diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:59 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:19:59 -0700 |
| commit | e208c6209294181e8e6fadf81c9bc5868d3e672c (patch) | |
| tree | f4ab0d1a4463d80454601f890afff3a2b13eda65 | |
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2867-0.txt | 6373 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2867-0.zip | bin | 0 -> 131181 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2867-h.zip | bin | 0 -> 137569 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2867-h/2867-h.htm | 7496 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2867.txt | 6372 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 2867.zip | bin | 0 -> 130650 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/asogs10.txt | 6654 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/asogs10.zip | bin | 0 -> 129581 bytes |
11 files changed, 26911 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/2867-0.txt b/2867-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..c4d7883 --- /dev/null +++ b/2867-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6373 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Sappho of Green Springs + +Author: Bret Harte + +Release Date: May 30, 2006 [EBook #2867] +Last Updated: March 5, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + + +By Bret Harte + + + + +CONTENTS + + +A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + +THE CHATELAINE OF BURNT RIDGE + +THROUGH THE SANTA CLARA WHEAT + +A MAECENAS OF THE PACIFIC SLOPE + + + + + +A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + + +CHAPTER I + + +“Come in,” said the editor. + +The door of the editorial room of the “Excelsior Magazine” began to +creak painfully under the hesitating pressure of an uncertain and +unfamiliar hand. This continued until with a start of irritation the +editor faced directly about, throwing his leg over the arm of his chair +with a certain youthful dexterity. With one hand gripping its back, +the other still grasping a proof-slip, and his pencil in his mouth, he +stared at the intruder. + +The stranger, despite his hesitating entrance, did not seem in the least +disconcerted. He was a tall man, looking even taller by reason of the +long formless overcoat he wore, known as a “duster,” and by a long +straight beard that depended from his chin, which he combed with two +reflective fingers as he contemplated the editor. The red dust which +still lay in the creases of his garment and in the curves of his soft +felt hat, and left a dusty circle like a precipitated halo around his +feet, proclaimed him, if not a countryman, a recent inland importation +by coach. “Busy?” he said, in a grave but pleasant voice. “I kin wait. +Don't mind ME. Go on.” + +The editor indicated a chair with his disengaged hand and plunged again +into his proof-slips. The stranger surveyed the scant furniture and +appointments of the office with a look of grave curiosity, and then, +taking a chair, fixed an earnest, penetrating gaze on the editor's +profile. The editor felt it, and, without looking up, said-- + +“Well, go on.” + +“But you're busy. I kin wait.” + +“I shall not be less busy this morning. I can listen.” + +“I want you to give me the name of a certain person who writes in your +magazine.” + +The editor's eye glanced at the second right-hand drawer of his desk. +It did not contain the names of his contributors, but what in the +traditions of his office was accepted as an equivalent,--a revolver. +He had never yet presented either to an inquirer. But he laid aside his +proofs, and, with a slight darkening of his youthful, discontented face, +said, “What do you want to know for?” + +The question was so evidently unexpected that the stranger's face +colored slightly, and he hesitated. The editor meanwhile, without +taking his eyes from the man, mentally ran over the contents of the last +magazine. They had been of a singularly peaceful character. There seemed +to be nothing to justify homicide on his part or the stranger's. Yet +there was no knowing, and his questioner's bucolic appearance by no +means precluded an assault. Indeed, it had been a legend of the office +that a predecessor had suffered vicariously from a geological hammer +covertly introduced into a scientific controversy by an irate professor. + +“As we make ourselves responsible for the conduct of the magazine,” + continued the young editor, with mature severity, “we do not give up the +names of our contributors. If you do not agree with their opinions”-- + +“But I DO,” said the stranger, with his former composure, “and I reckon +that's why I want to know who wrote those verses called 'Underbrush,' +signed 'White Violet,' in your last number. They're pow'ful pretty.” + +The editor flushed slightly, and glanced instinctively around for any +unexpected witness of his ludicrous mistake. The fear of ridicule was +uppermost in his mind, and he was more relieved at his mistake not being +overheard than at its groundlessness. + +“The verses ARE pretty,” he said, recovering himself, with a critical +air, “and I am glad you like them. But even then, you know, I could not +give you the lady's name without her permission. I will write to her and +ask it, if you like.” + +The actual fact was that the verses had been sent to him anonymously +from a remote village in the Coast Range,--the address being the +post-office and the signature initials. + +The stranger looked disturbed. “Then she ain't about here anywhere?” he +said, with a vague gesture. “She don't belong to the office?” + +The young editor beamed with tolerant superiority: “No, I am sorry to +say.” + +“I should like to have got to see her and kinder asked her a +few questions,” continued the stranger, with the same reflective +seriousness. “You see, it wasn't just the rhymin' o' them verses,--and +they kinder sing themselves to ye, don't they?--it wasn't the chyce o' +words,--and I reckon they allus hit the idee in the centre shot every +time,--it wasn't the idees and moral she sort o' drew out o' what she +was tellin',--but it was the straight thing itself,--the truth!” + +“The truth?” repeated the editor. + +“Yes, sir. I've bin there. I've seen all that she's seen in the +brush--the little flicks and checkers o' light and shadder down in +the brown dust that you wonder how it ever got through the dark of the +woods, and that allus seems to slip away like a snake or a lizard if you +grope. I've heard all that she's heard there--the creepin', the sighin', +and the whisperin' through the bracken and the ground-vines of all that +lives there.” + +“You seem to be a poet yourself,” said the editor, with a patronizing +smile. + +“I'm a lumberman, up in Mendocino,” returned the stranger, with sublime +naivete. “Got a mill there. You see, sightin' standin' timber and +selectin' from the gen'ral show of the trees in the ground and the lay +of roots hez sorter made me take notice.” He paused. “Then,” he added, +somewhat despondingly, “you don't know who she is?” + +“No,” said the editor, reflectively; “not even if it is really a WOMAN +who writes.” + +“Eh?” + +“Well, you see, 'White Violet' may as well be the nom de plume of a man +as of a woman, especially if adopted for the purpose of mystification. +The handwriting, I remember, WAS more boyish than feminine.” + +“No,” returned the stranger doggedly, “it wasn't no MAN. There's ideas +and words there that only come from a woman: baby-talk to the birds, you +know, and a kind of fearsome keer of bugs and creepin' things that don't +come to a man who wears boots and trousers. Well,” he added, with a +return to his previous air of resigned disappointment, “I suppose you +don't even know what she's like?” + +“No,” responded the editor, cheerfully. Then, following an idea +suggested by the odd mingling of sentiment and shrewd perception in +the man before him, he added: “Probably not at all like anything you +imagine. She may be a mother with three or four children; or an old maid +who keeps a boarding-house; or a wrinkled school-mistress; or a chit +of a school-girl. I've had some fair verses from a red-haired girl of +fourteen at the Seminary,” he concluded with professional coolness. + +The stranger regarded him with the naive wonder of an inexperienced +man. Having paid this tribute to his superior knowledge, he regained his +previous air of grave perception. “I reckon she ain't none of them. But +I'm keepin' you from your work. Good-by. My name's Bowers--Jim Bowers, +of Mendocino. If you're up my way, give me a call. And if you do write +to this yer 'White Violet,' and she's willin', send me her address.” + +He shook the editor's hand warmly--even in its literal significance +of imparting a good deal of his own earnest caloric to the editor's +fingers--and left the room. His footfall echoed along the passage and +died out, and with it, I fear, all impression of his visit from the +editor's mind, as he plunged again into the silent task before him. + +Presently he was conscious of a melodious humming and a light leisurely +step at the entrance of the hall. They continued on in an easy harmony +and unaffected as the passage of a bird. Both were pleasant and both +familiar to the editor. They belonged to Jack Hamlin, by vocation a +gambler, by taste a musician, on his way from his apartments on +the upper floor, where he had just risen, to drop into his friend's +editorial room and glance over the exchanges, as was his habit before +breakfast. + +The door opened lightly. The editor was conscious of a faint odor of +scented soap, a sensation of freshness and cleanliness, the impression +of a soft hand like a woman's on his shoulder and, like a woman's, +momentarily and playfully caressing, the passage of a graceful shadow +across his desk, and the next moment Jack Hamlin was ostentatiously +dusting a chair with an open newspaper preparatory to sitting down. + +“You ought to ship that office-boy of yours, if he can't keep things +cleaner,” he said, suspending his melody to eye grimly the dust which +Mr. Bowers had shaken from his departing feet. + +The editor did not look up until he had finished revising a difficult +paragraph. By that time Mr. Hamlin had comfortably settled himself on +a cane sofa, and, possibly out of deference to his surroundings, had +subdued his song to a peculiarly low, soft, and heartbreaking whistle as +he unfolded a newspaper. Clean and faultless in his appearance, he had +the rare gift of being able to get up at two in the afternoon with +much of the dewy freshness and all of the moral superiority of an early +riser. + +“You ought to have been here just now, Jack,” said the editor. + +“Not a row, old man, eh?” inquired Jack, with a faint accession of +interest. + +“No,” said the editor, smiling. Then he related the incidents of the +previous interview, with a certain humorous exaggeration which was part +of his nature. But Jack did not smile. + +“You ought to have booted him out of the ranch on sight,” he said. “What +right had he to come here prying into a lady's affairs?--at least a lady +as far as HE knows. Of course she's some old blowzy with frumpled hair +trying to rope in a greenhorn with a string of words and phrases,” + concluded Jack, carelessly, who had an equally cynical distrust of the +sex and of literature. + +“That's about what I told him,” said the editor. + +“That's just what you SHOULDN'T have told him,” returned Jack. “You +ought to have stuck up for that woman as if she'd been your own mother. +Lord! you fellows don't know how to run a magazine. You ought to let ME +sit on that chair and tackle your customers.” + +“What would you have done, Jack?” asked the editor, much amused to +find that his hitherto invincible hero was not above the ordinary human +weakness of offering advice as to editorial conduct. + +“Done?” reflected Jack. “Well, first, sonny, I shouldn't keep a revolver +in a drawer that I had to OPEN to get at.” + +“But what would you have said?” + +“I should simply have asked him what was the price of lumber at +Mendocino,” said Jack, sweetly, “and when he told me, I should have said +that the samples he was offering out of his own head wouldn't suit. You +see, you don't want any trifling in such matters. You write well enough, +my boy,” continued he, turning over his paper, “but what you're lacking +in is editorial dignity. But go on with your work. Don't mind me.” + +Thus admonished, the editor again bent over his desk, and his friend +softly took up his suspended song. The editor had not proceeded far in +his corrections when Jack's voice again broke the silence. + +“Where are those d----d verses, anyway?” + +Without looking up, the editor waved his pencil towards an uncut copy of +the “Excelsior Magazine” lying on the table. + +“You don't suppose I'm going to READ them, do you?” said Jack, +aggrievedly. “Why don't you say what they're about? That's your business +as editor.” + +But that functionary, now wholly lost and wandering in the non-sequitur +of an involved passage in the proof before him, only waved an impatient +remonstrance with his pencil and knit his brows. Jack, with a sigh, took +up the magazine. + +A long silence followed, broken only by the hurried rustling of sheets +of copy and an occasional exasperated start from the editor. The sun +was already beginning to slant a dusty beam across his desk; Jack's +whistling had long since ceased. Presently, with an exclamation of +relief, the editor laid aside the last proof-sheet and looked up. + +Jack Hamlin had closed the magazine, but with one hand thrown over the +back of the sofa he was still holding it, his slim forefinger between +its leaves to keep the place, and his handsome profile and dark +lashes lifted towards the window. The editor, smiling at this unwonted +abstraction, said quietly,-- + +“Well, what do you think of them?” + +Jack rose, laid the magazine down, settled his white waistcoat with both +hands, and lounged towards his friend with audacious but slightly +veiled and shining eyes. “They sort of sing themselves to you,” he said, +quietly, leaning beside the editor's desk, and looking down upon him. +After a pause he said, “Then you don't know what she's like?” + +“That's what Mr. Bowers asked me,” remarked the editor. + +“D--n Bowers!” + +“I suppose you also wish me to write and ask for permission to give you +her address?” said the editor, with great gravity. + +“No,” said Jack, coolly. “I propose to give it to YOU within a week, and +you will pay me with a breakfast. I should like to have it said that I +was once a paid contributor to literature. If I don't give it to you, +I'll stand you a dinner, that's all.” + +“Done!” said the editor. “And you know nothing of her now?” + +“No,” said Jack, promptly. “Nor you?” + +“No more than I have told you.” + +“That'll do. So long!” And Jack, carefully adjusting his glossy hat over +his curls at an ominously wicked angle, sauntered lightly from the room. +The editor, glancing after his handsome figure and hearing him take +up his pretermitted whistle as he passed out, began to think that the +contingent dinner was by no means an inevitable prospect. + +Howbeit, he plunged once more into his monotonous duties. But the +freshness of the day seemed to have departed with Jack, and the +later interruptions of foreman and publisher were of a more practical +character. It was not until the post arrived that the superscription on +one of the letters caught his eye, and revived his former interest. +It was the same hand as that of his unknown contributor's +manuscript--ill-formed and boyish. He opened the envelope. It contained +another poem with the same signature, but also a note--much longer than +the brief lines that accompanied the first contribution--was scrawled +upon a separate piece of paper. This the editor opened first, and read +the following, with an amazement that for the moment dominated all other +sense:-- + + +MR. EDITOR,--I see you have got my poetry in. But I don't see the +spondulix that oughter follow. Perhaps you don't know where to send it. +Then I'll tell you. Send the money to Lock Box 47, Green Springs P. +O., per Wells Fargo's Express, and I'll get it there, on account of my +parents not knowing. We're very high-toned, and they would think it's +low making poetry for papers. Send amount usually paid for poetry in +your papers. Or may be you think I make poetry for nothing? That's where +you slip up! + +Yours truly, + +WHITE VIOLET. + +P. S.--If you don't pay for poetry, send this back. It's as good as what +you did put in, and is just as hard to make. You hear me? that's me--all +the time. + +WHITE VIOLET. + + +The editor turned quickly to the new contribution for some corroboration +of what he felt must be an extraordinary blunder. But no! The few lines +that he hurriedly read breathed the same atmosphere of intellectual +repose, gentleness, and imagination as the first contribution. And yet +they were in the same handwriting as the singular missive, and both were +identical with the previous manuscript. + +Had he been the victim of a hoax, and were the verses not original? No; +they were distinctly original, local in color, and even local in the use +of certain old English words that were common in the Southwest. He had +before noticed the apparent incongruity of the handwriting and the text, +and it was possible that for the purposes of disguise the poet might +have employed an amanuensis. But how could he reconcile the incongruity +of the mercenary and slangy purport of the missive itself with the +mental habit of its author? Was it possible that these inconsistent +qualities existed in the one individual? He smiled grimly as he thought +of his visitor Bowers and his friend Jack. He was startled as he +remembered the purely imaginative picture he had himself given to the +seriously interested Bowers of the possible incongruous personality of +the poetess. + +Was he quite fair in keeping this from Jack? Was it really honorable, in +view of their wager? It is to be feared that a very human enjoyment of +Jack's possible discomfiture quite as much as any chivalrous friendship +impelled the editor to ring eventually for the office-boy. + +“See if Mr. Hamlin is in his rooms.” + +The editor then sat down, and wrote rapidly as follows:-- + + +DEAR MADAM,--You are as right as you are generous in supposing that +only ignorance of your address prevented the manager from previously +remitting the honorarium for your beautiful verses. He now begs to send +it to you in the manner you have indicated. As the verses have attracted +deserved attention, I have been applied to for your address. Should +you care to submit it to me to be used at my discretion, I shall feel +honored by your confidence. But this is a matter left entirely to your +own kindness and better judgment. Meantime, I take pleasure in accepting +“White Violet's” present contribution, and remain, dear madam, your +obedient servant, + +THE EDITOR. + + +The boy returned as he was folding the letter. Mr. Hamlin was not only +NOT in his rooms, but, according to his negro servant Pete, had left +town an hour ago for a few days in the country. + +“Did he say where?” asked the editor, quickly. + +“No, sir: he didn't know.” + +“Very well. Take this to the manager.” He addressed the letter, and, +scrawling a few hieroglyphics on a memorandum-tag, tore it off, and +handed it with the letter to the boy. + +An hour later he stood in the manager's office. “The next number is +pretty well made up,” he said, carelessly, “and I think of taking a day +or two off.” + +“Certainly,” said the manager. “It will do you good. Where do you think +you'll go?” + +“I haven't quite made up my mind.” + + +CHAPTER II + + +“Hullo!” said Jack Hamlin. + +He had halted his mare at the edge of an abrupt chasm. It did not appear +to be fifty feet across, yet its depth must have been nearly two +hundred to where the hidden mountain-stream, of which it was the banks, +alternately slipped, tumbled, and fell with murmuring and monotonous +regularity. One or two pine-trees growing on the opposite edge, loosened +at the roots, had tilted their straight shafts like spears over the +abyss, and the top of one, resting on the upper branches of a sycamore a +few yards from him, served as an aerial bridge for the passage of a boy +of fourteen to whom Mr. Hamlin's challenge was addressed. + +The boy stopped midway in his perilous transit, and, looking down upon +the horseman, responded, coolly, “Hullo, yourself!” + +“Is that the only way across this infernal hole, or the one you prefer +for exercise?” continued Hamlin, gravely. + +The boy sat down on a bough, allowing his bare feet to dangle over the +dizzy depths, and critically examined his questioner. Jack had on this +occasion modified his usual correct conventional attire by a tasteful +combination of a vaquero's costume, and, in loose white bullion-fringed +trousers, red sash, jacket, and sombrero, looked infinitely more dashing +and picturesque than his original. Nevertheless, the boy did not reply. +Mr. Hamlin's pride in his usual ascendency over women, children, horses, +and all unreasoning animals was deeply nettled. He smiled, however, and +said, quietly,-- + +“Come here, George Washington. I want to talk to you.” + +Without rejecting this august yet impossible title, the boy presently +lifted his feet, and carelessly resumed his passage across the +chasm until, reaching the sycamore, he began to let himself down +squirrel-wise, leap by leap, with an occasional trapeze swinging from +bough to bough, dropping at last easily to the ground. Here he appeared +to be rather good-looking, albeit the sun and air had worked a miracle +of brown tan and freckles on his exposed surfaces, until the mottling of +his oval cheeks looked like a polished bird's egg. Indeed, it struck Mr. +Hamlin that he was as intensely a part of that sylvan seclusion as +the hidden brook that murmured, the brown velvet shadows that lay like +trappings on the white flanks of his horse, the quivering heat, and the +stinging spice of bay. Mr. Hamlin had vague ideas of dryads and fauns, +but at that moment would have bet something on the chances of their +survival. + +“I did not hear what you said just now, general,” he remarked, with +great elegance of manner, “but I know from your reputation that it could +not be a lie. I therefore gather that there IS another way across.” + +The boy smiled; rather, his very short upper lip apparently vanished +completely over his white teeth, and his very black eyes, which showed a +great deal of the white around them, danced in their orbits. + +“But YOU couldn't find it,” he said, slyly. + +“No more could you find the half-dollar I dropped just now, unless I +helped you.” + +Mr. Hamlin, by way of illustration, leaned deeply over his left stirrup, +and pointed to the ground. At the same moment a bright half-dollar +absolutely appeared to glitter in the herbage at the point of his +finger. It was a trick that had always brought great pleasure and profit +to his young friends, and some loss and discomfiture of wager to his +older ones. + +The boy picked up the coin: “There's a dip and a level crossing about a +mile over yer,”--he pointed,--“but it's through the woods, and they're +that high with thick bresh.” + +“With what?” + +“Bresh,” repeated the boy; “THAT,”--pointing to a few fronds of bracken +growing in the shadow of the sycamore. + +“Oh! underbrush?” + +“Yes; I said 'bresh,'” returned the boy, doggedly. “YOU might get +through, ef you war spry, but not your hoss. Where do you want to go, +anyway?” + +“Do you know, George,” said Mr. Hamlin, lazily throwing his right +leg over the horn of his saddle for greater ease and deliberation in +replying, “it's very odd, but that's just what I'D like to know. Now, +what would YOU, in your broad statesmanlike views of things generally, +advise?” + +Quite convinced of the stranger's mental unsoundness, the boy glanced +again at his half-dollar, as if to make sure of its integrity, pocketed +it doubtfully, and turned away. + +“Where are you going?” said Hamlin, resuming his seat with the agility +of a circus-rider, and spurring forward. + +“To Green Springs, where I live, two miles over the ridge on the far +slope,”--indicating the direction. + +“Ah!” said Jack, with thoughtful gravity. “Well, kindly give my love to +your sister, will you?” + +“George Washington didn't have no sister,” said the boy, cunningly. + +“Can I have been mistaken?” said Hamlin, lifting his hand to his +forehead with grieved accents. “Then it seems YOU have. Kindly give her +my love.” + +“Which one?” asked the boy, with a swift glance of mischief. “I've got +four.” + +“The one that's like you,” returned Hamlin, with prompt exactitude. +“Now, where's the 'bresh' you spoke of?” + +“Keep along the edge until you come to the log-slide. Foller that, and +it'll lead you into the woods. But ye won't go far, I tell ye. When you +have to turn back, instead o' comin' back here, you kin take the trail +that goes round the woods, and that'll bring ye out into the stage road +ag'in near the post-office at the Green Springs crossin' and the new +hotel. That'll be war ye'll turn up, I reckon,” he added, reflectively. +“Fellers that come yer gunnin' and fishin' gin'rally do,” he concluded, +with a half-inquisitive air. + +“Ah?” said Mr. Hamlin, quietly shedding the inquiry. “Green Springs +Hotel is where the stage stops, eh?” + +“Yes, and at the post-office,” said the boy. “She'll be along here +soon,” he added. + +“If you mean the Santa Cruz stage,” said Hamlin, “she's here already. I +passed her on the ridge half an hour ago.” + +The boy gave a sudden start, and a quick uneasy expression passed over +his face. “Go 'long with ye!” he said, with a forced smile: “it ain't +her time yet.” + +“But I SAW her,” repeated Hamlin, much amused. “Are you expecting +company? Hullo! Where are you off to? Come back.” + +But his companion had already vanished in the thicket with the +undeliberate and impulsive act of an animal. There was a momentary +rustle in the alders fifty feet away, and then all was silent. The +hidden brook took up its monotonous murmur, the tapping of a distant +woodpecker became suddenly audible, and Mr. Hamlin was again alone. + +“Wonder whether he's got parents in the stage, and has been playing +truant here,” he mused, lazily. “Looked as if he'd been up to some +devilment, or more like as if he was primed for it. If he'd been a +little older, I'd have bet he was in league with some road-agents to +watch the coach. Just my luck to have him light out as I was beginning +to get some talk out of him.” He paused, looked at his watch, and +straightened himself in his stirrups. “Four o'clock. I reckon I might as +well try the woods and what that imp calls the 'bresh;' I may strike a +shanty or a native by the way.” + +With this determination, Mr. Hamlin urged his horse along the faint +trail by the brink of the watercourse which the boy had just indicated. +He had no definite end in view beyond the one that had brought him the +day before to that locality--his quest of the unknown poetess. His clue +would have seemed to ordinary humanity the faintest. He had merely +noted the provincial name of a certain plant mentioned in the poem, and +learned that its habitat was limited to the southern local range; while +its peculiar nomenclature was clearly of French Creole or Gulf State +origin. This gave him a large though sparsely-populated area +for locality, while it suggested a settlement of Louisianians or +Mississippians near the Summit, of whom, through their native gambling +proclivities, he was professionally cognizant. But he mainly trusted +Fortune. Secure in his faith in the feminine character of that goddess, +he relied a great deal on her well-known weakness for scamps of his +quality. + +It was not long before he came to the “slide”--a lightly-cut or shallow +ditch. It descended slightly in a course that was far from straight, at +times diverging to avoid the obstacles of trees or boulders, at times +shaving them so closely as to leave smooth abrasions along their sides +made by the grinding passage of long logs down the incline. The track +itself was slippery from this, and preoccupied all Hamlin's skill as a +horseman, even to the point of stopping his usual careless whistle. +At the end of half an hour the track became level again, and he was +confronted with a singular phenomenon. + +He had entered the wood, and the trail seemed to cleave through a +far-stretching, motionless sea of ferns that flowed on either side to +the height of his horse's flanks. The straight shafts of the trees rose +like columns from their hidden bases and were lost again in a roof +of impenetrable leafage, leaving a clear space of fifty feet between, +through which the surrounding horizon of sky was perfectly visible. +All the light that entered this vast sylvan hall came from the sides; +nothing permeated from above; nothing radiated from below; the height +of the crest on which the wood was placed gave it this lateral +illumination, but gave it also the profound isolation of some temple +raised by long-forgotten hands. In spite of the height of these clear +shafts, they seemed dwarfed by the expanse of the wood, and in the +farthest perspective the base of ferns and the capital of foliage +appeared almost to meet. As the boy had warned him, the slide had turned +aside, skirting the wood to follow the incline, and presently the little +trail he now followed vanished utterly, leaving him and his horse adrift +breast-high in this green and yellow sea of fronds. But Mr. Hamlin, +imperious of obstacles, and touched by some curiosity, continued to +advance lazily, taking the bearings of a larger red-wood in the centre +of the grove for his objective point. The elastic mass gave way before +him, brushing his knees or combing his horse's flanks with wide-spread +elfin fingers, and closing up behind him as he passed, as if to +obliterate any track by which he might return. Yet his usual luck did +not desert him here. Being on horseback, he found that he could detect +what had been invisible to the boy and probably to all pedestrians, +namely, that the growth was not equally dense, that there were certain +thinner and more open spaces that he could take advantage of by more +circuitous progression, always, however, keeping the bearings of the +central tree. This he at last reached, and halted his panting horse. +Here a new idea which had been haunting him since he entered the wood +took fuller possession of him. He had seen or known all this before! +There was a strange familiarity either in these objects or in the +impression or spell they left upon him. He remembered the verses! Yes, +this was the “underbrush” which the poetess had described: the gloom +above and below, the light that seemed blown through it like the wind, +the suggestion of hidden life beneath this tangled luxuriance, which she +alone had penetrated,--all this was here. But, more than that, here was +the atmosphere that she had breathed into the plaintive melody of her +verse. It did not necessarily follow that Mr. Hamlin's translation of +her sentiment was the correct one, or that the ideas her verses had +provoked in his mind were at all what had been hers: in his easy +susceptibility he was simply thrown into a corresponding mood of +emotion and relieved himself with song. One of the verses he had already +associated in his mind with the rhythm of an old plantation melody, and +it struck his fancy to take advantage of the solitude to try its effect. +Humming to himself, at first softly, he at last grew bolder, and let his +voice drift away through the stark pillars of the sylvan colonnade till +it seemed to suffuse and fill it with no more effort than the light +which strayed in on either side. Sitting thus, his hat thrown a little +back from his clustering curls, the white neck and shoulders of his +horse uplifting him above the crested mass of fern, his red sash the one +fleck of color in their olive depths, I am afraid he looked much +more like the real minstrel of the grove than the unknown poetess who +transfigured it. But this, as has been already indicated, was Jack +Hamlin's peculiar gift. Even as he had previously outshone the vaquero +in his borrowed dress, he now silenced and supplanted a few fluttering +blue-jays--rightful tenants of the wood--with a more graceful and airy +presence and a far sweeter voice. + +The open horizon towards the west had taken a warmer color from the +already slanting sun when Mr. Hamlin, having rested his horse, turned +to that direction. He had noticed that the wood was thinner there, +and, pushing forward, he was presently rewarded by the sound of far-off +wheels, and knew he must be near the high-road that the boy had spoken +of. Having given up his previous intention of crossing the stream, there +seemed nothing better for him to do than to follow the truant's advice +and take the road back to Green Springs. Yet he was loath to leave the +wood, halting on its verge, and turning to look back into its charmed +recesses. Once or twice--perhaps because he recalled the words of the +poem--that yellowish sea of ferns had seemed instinct with hidden life, +and he had even fancied, here and there, a swaying of its plumed crests. +Howbeit, he still lingered long enough for the open sunlight into which +he had obtruded to point out the bravery of his handsome figure. Then +he wheeled his horse, the light glanced from polished double bit and +bridle-fripperies, caught his red sash and bullion buttons, struck a +parting flash from his silver spurs, and he was gone! + +For a moment the light streamed unbrokenly through the wood. And then +it could be seen that the yellow mass of undergrowth HAD moved with the +passage of another figure than his own. For ever since he had entered +the shade, a woman, shawled in a vague, shapeless fashion, had watched +him wonderingly, eagerly, excitedly, gliding from tree to tree as he +advanced, or else dropping breathlessly below the fronds of fern whence +she gazed at him as between parted fingers. When he wheeled she had run +openly to the west, albeit with hidden face and still clinging shawl, +and taken a last look at his retreating figure. And then, with a faint +but lingering sigh, she drew back into the shadow of the wood again and +vanished also. + + +CHAPTER III + + +At the end of twenty minutes Mr. Hamlin reined in his mare. He had just +observed in the distant shadows of a by-lane that intersected his road +the vanishing flutter of two light print dresses. Without a moment's +hesitation he lightly swerved out of the high-road and followed the +retreating figures. + +As he neared them, they seemed to be two slim young girls, evidently +so preoccupied with the rustic amusement of edging each other off the +grassy border into the dust of the track that they did not perceive +his approach. Little shrieks, slight scufflings, and interjections of +“Cynthy! you limb!” “Quit that, Eunice, now!” and “I just call that +real mean!” apparently drowned the sound of his canter in the soft dust. +Checking his speed to a gentle trot, and pressing his horse close beside +the opposite fence, he passed them with gravely uplifted hat and a +serious, preoccupied air. But in that single, seemingly conventional +glance, Mr. Hamlin had seen that they were both pretty, and that one had +the short upper lip of his errant little guide. A hundred yards farther +on he halted, as if irresolutely, gazed doubtfully ahead of him, and +then turned back. An expression of innocent--almost childlike--concern +was clouding the rascal's face. It was well, as the two girls had drawn +closely together, having been apparently surprised in the midst of a +glowing eulogium of this glorious passing vision by its sudden return. +At his nearer approach, the one with the short upper lip hid that +piquant feature and the rest of her rosy face behind the other's +shoulder, which was suddenly and significantly opposed to the advance +of this handsome intruder, with a certain dignity, half real, half +affected, but wholly charming. The protectress appeared--possibly from +her defensive attitude--the superior of her companion. + +Audacious as Jack was to his own sex, he had early learned that +such rare but discomposing graces as he possessed required a certain +apologetic attitude when presented to women, and that it was only a +plain man who could be always complacently self-confident in their +presence. There was, consequently, a hesitating lowering of this +hypocrite's brown eyelashes as he said, in almost pained accents,-- + +“Excuse me, but I fear I've taken the wrong road. I'm going to Green +Springs.” + +“I reckon you've taken the wrong road, wherever you're going,” returned +the young lady, having apparently made up her mind to resent each of +Jack's perfections as a separate impertinence: “this is a PRIVATE road.” + She drew herself fairly up here, although gurgled at in the ear and +pinched in the arm by her companion. + +“I beg your pardon,” said Jack, meekly. “I see I'm trespassing on your +grounds. I'm very sorry. Thank you for telling me. I should have gone on +a mile or two farther, I suppose, until I came to your house,” he added, +innocently. + +“A mile or two! You'd have run chock ag'in' our gate in another minit,” + said the short-lipped one, eagerly. But a sharp nudge from her companion +sent her back again into cover, where she waited expectantly for another +crushing retort from her protector. + +But, alas! it did not come. One cannot be always witty, and Jack looked +distressed. Nevertheless, he took advantage of the pause. + +“It was so stupid in me, as I think your brother”--looking at +Short-lip--“very carefully told me the road.” + +The two girls darted quick glances at each other. “Oh, Bawb!” said the +first speaker, in wearied accents,--“THAT limb! He don't keer.” + +“But he DID care,” said Hamlin, quietly, “and gave me a good deal of +information. Thanks to him, I was able to see that ferny wood that's so +famous--about two miles up the road. You know--the one that there's a +poem written about!” + +The shot told! Short-lip burst into a display of dazzling little teeth +and caught the other girl convulsively by the shoulders. The superior +girl bent her pretty brows, and said, “Eunice, what's gone of ye? Quit +that!” but, as Hamlin thought, paled slightly. + +“Of course,” said Hamlin, quickly, “you know--the poem everybody's +talking about. Dear me! let me see! how does it go?” The rascal knit his +brows, said, “Ah, yes,” and then murmured the verse he had lately sung +quite as musically. + +Short-lip was shamelessly exalted and excited. Really she could scarcely +believe it! She already heard herself relating the whole occurrence. +Here was the most beautiful young man she had ever seen--an entire +stranger--talking to them in the most beautiful and natural way, +right in the lane, and reciting poetry to her sister! It was like a +novel--only more so. She thought that Cynthia, on the other hand, looked +distressed, and--she must say it--“silly.” + +All of which Jack noted, and was wise. He had got all he wanted--at +present. He gathered up his reins. + +“Thank you so much, and your brother, too, Miss Cynthia,” he said, +without looking up. Then, adding, with a parting glance and smile, “But +don't tell Bob how stupid I was,” he swiftly departed. + +In half an hour he was at the Green Springs Hotel. As he rode into the +stable yard, he noticed that the coach had only just arrived, having +been detained by a land-slip on the Summit road. With the recollection +of Bob fresh in his mind, he glanced at the loungers at the stage +office. The boy was not there, but a moment later Jack detected him +among the waiting crowd at the post-office opposite. With a view of +following up his inquiries, he crossed the road as the boy entered the +vestibule of the post-office. He arrived in time to see him unlock one +of a row of numbered letter-boxes rented by subscribers, which occupied +a partition by the window, and take out a small package and a letter. +But in that brief glance Mr. Hamlin detected the printed address of the +“Excelsior Magazine” on the wrapper. It was enough. Luck was certainly +with him. + +He had time to get rid of the wicked sparkle that had lit his dark eyes, +and to lounge carelessly towards the boy as the latter broke open the +package, and then hurriedly concealed it in his jacket-pocket, and +started for the door. Mr. Hamlin quickly followed him, unperceived, and, +as he stepped into the street, gently tapped him on the shoulder. The +boy turned and faced him quickly. But Mr. Hamlin's eyes showed nothing +but lazy good-humor. + +“Hullo, Bob. Where are you going?” + +The boy again looked up suspiciously at this revelation of his name. + +“Home,” he said, briefly. + +“Oh, over yonder,” said Hamlin, calmly. “I don't mind walking with you +as far as the lane.” + +He saw the boy's eyes glance furtively towards an alley that ran beside +the blacksmith's shop a few rods ahead, and was convinced that he +intended to evade him there. Slipping his arm carelessly in the youth's, +he concluded to open fire at once. + +“Bob,” he said, with irresistible gravity, “I did not know when I met +you this morning that I had the honor of addressing a poet--none other +than the famous author of 'Underbrush.'” + +The boy started back, and endeavored to withdraw his arm, but Mr. Hamlin +tightened his hold, without, however, changing his careless expression. + +“You see,” he continued, “the editor is a friend of mine, and, being +afraid this package might not get into the right hands--as you didn't +give your name--he deputized me to come here and see that it was all +square. As you're rather young, for all you're so gifted, I reckon I'd +better go home with you, and take a receipt from your parents. That's +about square, I think?” + +The consternation of the boy was so evident and so far beyond Mr. +Hamlin's expectation that he instantly halted him, gazed into his +shifting eyes, and gave a long whistle. + +“Who said it was for ME? Wot you talkin' about? Lemme go!” gasped the +boy, with the short intermittent breath of mingled fear and passion. + +“Bob,” said Mr. Hamlin, in a singularly colorless voice which was very +rare with him, and an expression quite unlike his own, “what is your +little game?” + +The boy looked down in dogged silence. + +“Out with it! Who are you playing this on?” + +“It's all among my own folks; it's nothin' to YOU,” said the boy, +suddenly beginning to struggle violently, as if inspired by this +extenuating fact. + +“Among your own folks, eh? White Violet and the rest, eh? But SHE'S not +in it?” + +No reply. + +“Hand me over that package. I'll give it back to you again.” + +The boy handed it to Mr. Hamlin. He read the letter, and found the +inclosure contained a twenty-dollar gold-piece. A half-supercilious +smile passed over his face at this revelation of the inadequate +emoluments of literature and the trifling inducements to crime. Indeed, +I fear the affair began to take a less serious moral complexion in his +eyes. + +“Then White Violet--your sister Cynthia, you know,” continued Mr. +Hamlin, in easy parenthesis--“wrote for this?” holding the coin +contemplatively in his fingers, “and you calculated to nab it yourself?” + +The quick searching glance with which Bob received the name of his +sister, Mr. Hamlin attributed only to his natural surprise that +this stranger should be on such familiar terms with her; but the boy +responded immediately and bluntly:-- + +“No! SHE didn't write for it. She didn't want nobody to know who she +was. Nobody wrote for it but me. Nobody KNEW FOLKS WAS PAID FOR PO'TRY +BUT ME. I found it out from a feller. I wrote for it. I wasn't goin' to +let that skunk of an editor have it himself!” + +“And you thought YOU would take it,” said Hamlin, his voice resuming +its old tone. “Well, George--I mean Bob, your conduct was praiseworthy, +although your intentions were bad. Still, twenty dollars is rather +too much for your trouble. Suppose we say five and call it square?” He +handed the astonished boy five dollars. “Now, George Washington,” he +continued, taking four other twenty-dollar pieces from his pocket, and +adding them to the inclosure, which he carefully refolded, “I'm going to +give you another chance to live up to your reputation. You'll take that +package, and hand it to White Violet, and say you found it, just as +it is, in the lock-box. I'll keep the letter, for it would knock you +endways if it was seen, and I'll make it all right with the editor. But, +as I've got to tell him that I've seen White Violet myself, and know +she's got it, I expect YOU to manage in some way to have me see her. +I'll manage the rest of it; and I won't blow on you, either. You'll +come back to the hotel, and tell me what you've done. And now, George,” + concluded Mr. Hamlin, succeeding at last in fixing the boy's evasive eye +with a peculiar look, “it may be just as well for you to understand +that I know every nook and corner of this place, that I've already been +through that underbrush you spoke of once this morning, and that I've +got a mare that can go wherever YOU can, and a d----d sight quicker!” + +“I'll give the package to White Violet,” said the boy, doggedly. + +“And you'll come back to the hotel?” + +The boy hesitated, and then said, “I'll come back.” + +“All right, then. Adios, general.” + +Bob disappeared around the corner of a cross-road at a rapid trot, and +Mr. Hamlin turned into the hotel. + +“Smart little chap that!” he said to the barkeeper. + +“You bet!” returned the man, who, having recognized Mr. Hamlin, was +delighted at the prospect of conversing with a gentleman of such +decidedly dangerous reputation. “But he's been allowed to run a little +wild since old man Delatour died, and the widder's got enough to do, I +reckon, lookin' arter her four gals, and takin' keer of old Delatour's +ranch over yonder. I guess it's pretty hard sleddin' for her sometimes +to get clo'es and grub for the famerly, without follerin' Bob around.” + +“Sharp girls, too, I reckon; one of them writes things for the +magazines, doesn't she?--Cynthia, eh?” said Mr. Hamlin, carelessly. + +Evidently this fact was not a notorious one to the barkeeper. He, +however, said, “Dunno; mabbee; her father was eddicated, and the widder +Delatour, too, though she's sorter queer, I've heard tell. Lord! +Mr. Hamlin, YOU oughter remember old man Delatour! From Opelousas, +Louisiany, you know! High old sport French style, frilled +bosom--open-handed, and us'ter buck ag'in' faro awful! Why, he dropped +a heap o' money to YOU over in San Jose two years ago at poker! You must +remember him!” + +The slightest possible flush passed over Mr. Hamlin's brow under the +shadow of his hat, but did not get lower than his eyes. He suddenly HAD +recalled the spendthrift Delatour perfectly, and as quickly regretted +now that he had not doubled the honorarium he had just sent to his +portionless daughter. But he only said, coolly, “No,” and then, raising +his pale face and audacious eyes, continued in his laziest and most +insulting manner, “no: the fact is, my mind is just now preoccupied in +wondering if the gas is leaking anywhere, and if anything is ever served +over this bar except elegant conversation. When the gentleman who mixes +drinks comes back, perhaps you'll be good enough to tell him to send a +whisky sour to Mr. Jack Hamlin in the parlor. Meantime, you can turn off +your soda fountain: I don't want any fizz in mine.” + +Having thus quite recovered himself, Mr. Hamlin lounged gracefully +across the hall into the parlor. As he did so, a darkish young man, with +a slim boyish figure, a thin face, and a discontented expression, +rose from an armchair, held out his hand, and, with a saturnine smile, +said:-- + +“Jack!” + +“Fred!” + +The two men remained gazing at each other with a half-amused, +half-guarded expression. Mr. Hamlin was first to begin. “I didn't think +YOU'D be such a fool as to try on this kind of thing, Fred,” he said, +half seriously. + +“Yes, but it was to keep you from being a much bigger one that I hunted +you up,” said the editor, mischievously. “Read that. I got it an hour +after you left.” And he placed a little triumphantly in Jack's hand the +letter he had received from White Violet. + +Mr. Hamlin read it with an unmoved face, and then laid his two hands +on the editor's shoulders. “Yes, my young friend, and you sat down and +wrote her a pretty letter and sent her twenty dollars--which, permit me +to say, was d----d poor pay! But that isn't your fault, I reckon: it's +the meanness of your proprietors.” + +“But it isn't the question, either, just now, Jack, however you have +been able to answer it. Do you mean to say seriously that you want to +know anything more of a woman who could write such a letter?” + +“I don't know,” said Jack, cheerfully. “She might be a devilish sight +funnier than if she hadn't written it--which is the fact.” + +“You mean to say SHE didn't write it?” + +“Yes.” + +“Who did, then?” + +“Her brother Bob.” + +After a moment's scrutiny of his friend's bewildered face, Mr. Hamlin +briefly related his adventures, from the moment of his meeting Bob at +the mountain-stream to the barkeeper's gossiping comment and sequel. +“Therefore,” he concluded, “the author of 'Underbrush' is Miss Cynthia +Delatour, one of four daughters of a widow who lives two miles from +here at the crossing. I shall see her this evening and make sure; +but to-morrow morning you will pay me the breakfast you owe me. She's +good-looking, but I can't say I fancy the poetic style: it's a little +too high-toned for me. However, I love my love with a C, because she is +your Contributor; I hate her with a C, because of her Connections; I met +her by Chance and treated her with Civility; her name is Cynthia, and +she lives on a Cross-road.” + +“But you surely don't expect you will ever see Bob, again!” said the +editor, impatiently. “You have trusted him with enough to start him for +the Sandwich Islands, to say nothing of the ruinous precedent you have +established in his mind of the value of poetry. I am surprised that +a man of your knowledge of the world would have faith in that imp the +second time.” + +“My knowledge of the world,” returned Mr. Hamlin, sententiously, “tells +me that's the only way you can trust anybody. ONCE doesn't make a habit, +nor show a character. I could see by his bungling that he had never +tried this on before. Just now the temptation to wipe out his punishment +by doing the square thing, and coming back a sort of hero, is stronger +than any other. 'Tisn't everybody that gets that chance,” he added, with +an odd laugh. + +Nevertheless, three hours passed without bringing Bob. The two men had +gone to the billiard-room, when a waiter brought a note, which he +handed to Mr. Hamlin with some apologetic hesitation. It bore no +superscription, but had been brought by a boy who described Mr. Hamlin +perfectly, and requested that the note should be handed to him with the +remark that “Bob had come back.” + +“And is he there now?” asked Mr. Hamlin, holding the letter unopened in +his hand. + +“No, sir; he run right off.” + +The editor laughed, but Mr. Hamlin, having perused the note, put away +his cue. “Come into my room,” he said. + +The editor followed, and Mr. Hamlin laid the note before him on the +table. “Bob's all right,” he said, “for I'll bet a thousand dollars that +note is genuine.” + +It was delicately written, in a cultivated feminine hand, utterly unlike +the scrawl that had first excited the editor's curiosity, and ran as +follows:-- + + +He who brought me the bounty of your friend--for I cannot call a +recompense so far above my deserts by any other name--gives me also to +understand that you wished for an interview. I cannot believe that this +is mere idle curiosity, or that you have any motive that is not kindly +and honorable, but I feel that I must beg and pray you not to seek to +remove the veil behind which I have chosen to hide myself and my +poor efforts from identification. I THINK I know you--I KNOW I +know myself--well enough to believe it would give neither of us any +happiness. You will say to your generous friend that he has already +given the Unknown more comfort and hope than could come from any +personal compliment or publicity, and you will yourself believe that you +have all unconsciously brightened a sad woman's fancy with a Dream and a +Vision that before today had been unknown to + +WHITE VIOLET. + + +“Have you read it?” asked Mr. Hamlin. + +“Yes.” + +“Then you don't want to see it any more, or even remember you ever saw +it,” said Mr. Hamlin, carefully tearing the note into small pieces and +letting them drift from the windows like blown blossoms. + +“But, I say, Jack! look here; I don't understand! You say you have +already seen this woman, and yet”-- + +“I HAVEN'T seen her,” said Jack, composedly, turning from the window. + +“What do you mean?” + +“I mean that you and I, Fred, are going to drop this fooling right here +and leave this place for Frisco by first stage to-morrow, and--that I +owe you that dinner.” + + +CHAPTER IV + + +When the stage for San Francisco rolled away the next morning with Mr. +Hamlin and the editor, the latter might have recognized in the occupant +of a dust-covered buggy that was coming leisurely towards them the tall +figure, long beard, and straight duster of his late visitor, Mr. James +Bowers. For Mr. Bowers was on the same quest that the others had just +abandoned. Like Mr. Hamlin, he had been left to his own resources, but +Mr. Bowers's resources were a life-long experience and technical skill; +he too had noted the topographical indications of the poem, and his +knowledge of the sylva of Upper California pointed as unerringly as Mr. +Hamlin's luck to the cryptogamous haunts of the Summit. Such abnormal +growths were indicative of certain localities only, but, as they were +not remunerative from a pecuniary point of view, were to be avoided by +the sagacious woodman. It was clear, therefore, that Mr. Bowers's +visit to Green Springs was not professional, and that he did not even +figuratively accept the omen. + +He baited and rested his horse at the hotel, where his bucolic exterior, +however, did not elicit that attention which had been accorded to Mr. +Hamlin's charming insolence or the editor's cultivated manner. But he +glanced over a township map on the walls of the reading-room, and took +note of the names of the owners of different lots, farms, and ranches, +passing that of Delatour with the others. Then he drove leisurely in the +direction of the woods, and, reaching them, tied his horse to a young +sapling in the shade, and entered their domain with a shambling but +familiar woodman's step. + +It is not the purpose of this brief chronicle to follow Mr. Bowers in +his professional diagnosis of the locality. He recognized Nature in one +of her moods of wasteful extravagance,--a waste that his experienced +eye could tell was also sapping the vitality of those outwardly robust +shafts that rose around him. He knew, without testing them, that half of +these fair-seeming columns were hollow and rotten at the core; he could +detect the chill odor of decay through the hot balsamic spices stirred +by the wind that streamed through their long aisles,--like incense +mingling with the exhalations of a crypt. He stopped now and then to +part the heavy fronds down to their roots in the dank moss, seeing +again, as he had told the editor, the weird SECOND twilight through +their miniature stems, and the microcosm of life that filled it. But, +even while paying this tribute to the accuracy of the unknown poetess, +he was, like his predecessor, haunted more strongly by the atmosphere +and melody of her verse. Its spell was upon him, too. Unlike Mr. Hamlin, +he did not sing. He only halted once or twice, silently combing his +straight narrow beard with his three fingers, until the action seemed +to draw down the lines of his face into limitless dejection, and an +inscrutable melancholy filled his small gray eyes. The few birds which +had hailed Mr. Hamlin as their successful rival fled away before the +grotesque and angular half-length of Mr. Bowers, as if the wind had +blown in a scarecrow from the distant farms. + +Suddenly he observed the figure of a woman, with her back towards him, +leaning motionless against a tree, and apparently gazing intently in the +direction of Green Springs. He had approached so near to her that it +was singular she had not heard him. Mr. Bowers was a bashful man in the +presence of the other sex. He felt exceedingly embarrassed; if he could +have gone away without attracting her attention he would have done so. +Neither could he remain silent, a tacit spy of her meditation. He had +recourse to a polite but singularly artificial cough. + +To his surprise, she gave a faint cry, turned quickly towards him, and +then shrank back and lapsed quite helpless against the tree. Her evident +distress overcame his bashfulness. He ran towards her. + +“I'm sorry I frighted ye, ma'am, but I was afraid I might skeer ye more +if I lay low, and said nothin'.” + +Even then, if she had been some fair young country girl, he would have +relapsed after this speech into his former bashfulness. But the face and +figure she turned towards him were neither young nor fair: a woman past +forty, with gray threads and splashes in her brushed-back hair, which +was turned over her ears in two curls like frayed strands of rope. Her +forehead was rather high than broad, her nose large but well-shaped, +and her eyes full but so singularly light in color as to seem almost +sightless. The short upper lip of her large mouth displayed her teeth +in an habitual smile, which was in turn so flatly contradicted by every +other line of her careworn face that it seemed gratuitously artificial. +Her figure was hidden by a shapeless garment that partook equally of the +shawl, cloak, and wrapper. + +“I am very foolish,” she began, in a voice and accent that at once +asserted a cultivated woman, “but I so seldom meet anybody here that a +voice quite startled me. That, and the heat,” she went on, wiping her +face, into which the color was returning violently--“for I seldom go out +as early as this--I suppose affected me.” + +Mr. Bowers had that innate Far-Western reverence for womanhood which +I fancy challenges the most polished politeness. He remained patient, +undemonstrative, self-effacing, and respectful before her, his angular +arm slightly but not obtrusively advanced, the offer of protection being +in the act rather than in any spoken word, and requiring no response. + +“Like as not, ma'am,” he said, cheerfully looking everywhere but in her +burning face. “The sun IS pow'ful hot at this time o' day; I felt it +myself comin' yer, and, though the damp of this timber kinder sets it +back, it's likely to come out ag'in. Ye can't check it no more than the +sap in that choked limb thar”--he pointed ostentatiously where a fallen +pine had been caught in the bent and twisted arm of another, but which +still put out a few green tassels beyond the point of impact. “Do you +live far from here, ma'am?” he added. + +“Only as far as the first turning below the hill.” + +“I've got my buggy here, and I'm goin' that way, and I can jist set ye +down thar cool and comfortable. Ef,” he continued, in the same assuring +tone, without waiting for a reply, “ye'll jist take a good grip of +my arm thar,” curving his wrist and hand behind him like a shepherd's +crook, “I'll go first, and break away the brush for ye.” + +She obeyed mechanically, and they fared on through the thick ferns in +this fashion for some moments, he looking ahead, occasionally dropping +a word of caution or encouragement, but never glancing at her face. +When they reached the buggy he lifted her into it carefully,--and +perpendicularly, it struck her afterwards, very much as if she had been +a transplanted sapling with bared and sensitive roots,--and then gravely +took his place beside her. + +“Bein' in the timber trade myself, ma'am,” he said, gathering up the +reins, “I chanced to sight these woods, and took a look around. My name +is Bowers, of Mendocino; I reckon there ain't much that grows in the +way o' standin' timber on the Pacific Slope that I don't know and can't +locate, though I DO say it. I've got ez big a mill, and ez big a run in +my district, ez there is anywhere. Ef you're ever up my way, you ask for +Bowers--Jim Bowers--and that's ME.” + +There is probably nothing more conducive to conversation between +strangers than a wholesome and early recognition of each other's +foibles. Mr. Bowers, believing his chance acquaintance a superior woman, +naively spoke of himself in a way that he hoped would reassure her +that she was not compromising herself in accepting his civility, and so +satisfy what must be her inevitable pride. On the other hand, the woman +regained her self-possession by this exhibition of Mr. Bowers's vanity, +and, revived by the refreshing breeze caused by the rapid motion of the +buggy along the road, thanked him graciously. + +“I suppose there are many strangers at the Green Springs Hotel,” she +said, after a pause. + +“I didn't get to see 'em, as I only put up my hoss there,” he replied. +“But I know the stage took some away this mornin': it seemed pretty well +loaded up when I passed it.” + +The woman drew a deep sigh. The act struck Mr. Bowers as a possible +return of her former nervous weakness. Her attention must at once be +distracted at any cost--even conversation. + +“Perhaps,” he began, with sudden and appalling lightness, “I'm a-talkin' +to Mrs. McFadden?” + +“No,” said the woman, abstractedly. + +“Then it must be Mrs. Delatour? There are only two township lots on that +crossroad.” + +“My name IS Delatour,” she said, somewhat wearily. + +Mr. Bowers was conversationally stranded. He was not at all anxious to +know her name, yet, knowing it now, it seemed to suggest that there was +nothing more to say. He would, of course, have preferred to ask her +if she had read the poetry about the Underbrush, and if she knew the +poetess, and what she thought of it; but the fact that she appeared +to be an “eddicated” woman made him sensitive of displaying technical +ignorance in his manner of talking about it. She might ask him if it was +“subjective” or “objective”--two words he had heard used at the Debating +Society at Mendocino on the question, “Is poetry morally beneficial?” + For a few moments he was silent. But presently she took the initiative +in conversation, at first slowly and abstractedly, and then, as if +appreciating his sympathetic reticence, or mayhap finding some relief +in monotonous expression, talked mechanically, deliberately, but +unostentatiously about herself. So colorless was her intonation that at +times it did not seem as if she was talking to him, but repeating some +conversation she had held with another. + +She had lived there ever since she had been in California. Her husband +had bought the Spanish title to the property when they first married. +The property at his death was found to be greatly involved; she had been +obliged to part with much of it to support her children--four girls and +a boy. She had been compelled to withdraw the girls from the convent at +Santa Clara to help about the house; the boy was too young--she feared, +too shiftless--to do anything. The farm did not pay; the land was poor; +she knew nothing about farming; she had been brought up in New Orleans, +where her father had been a judge, and she didn't understand country +life. Of course she had been married too young--as all girls were. +Lately she had thought of selling off and moving to San Francisco, where +she would open a boarding-house or a school for young ladies. He could +advise her, perhaps, of some good opportunity. Her own girls were far +enough advanced to assist her in teaching; one particularly, Cynthia, +was quite clever, and spoke French and Spanish fluently. + +As Mr. Bowers was familiar with many of these counts in the feminine +American indictment of life generally, he was not perhaps greatly moved. +But in the last sentence he thought he saw an opening to return to his +main object, and, looking up cautiously, said:-- + +“And mebbe write po'try now and then?” To his great discomfiture, the +only effect of this suggestion was to check his companion's speech for +some moments and apparently throw her back into her former abstraction. +Yet, after a long pause, as they were turning into the lane, she said, +as if continuing the subject:-- + +“I only hope that, whatever my daughters may do, they won't marry +young.” + +The yawning breaches in the Delatour gates and fences presently came +in view. They were supposed to be reinforced by half a dozen dogs, +who, however, did their duty with what would seem to be the prevailing +inefficiency, retiring after a single perfunctory yelp to shameless +stretching, scratching, and slumber. Their places were taken on the +veranda by two negro servants, two girls respectively of eight and +eleven, and a boy of fourteen, who remained silently staring. As Mr. +Bowers had accepted the widow's polite invitation to enter, she was +compelled, albeit in an equally dazed and helpless way, to issue some +preliminary orders:-- + +“Now, Chloe--I mean aunt Dinah--do take Eunice--I mean Victorine and +Una--away, and--you know--tidy them; and you, Sarah--it's Sarah, isn't +it?--lay some refreshment in the parlor for this gentleman. And, +Bob, tell your sister Cynthia to come here with Eunice.” As Bob still +remained staring at Mr. Bowers, she added, in weary explanation, “Mr. +Bowers brought me over from the Summit woods in his buggy--it was so +hot. There--shake hands and thank him, and run away--do!” + +They crossed a broad but scantily-furnished hall. Everywhere the same +look of hopeless incompleteness, temporary utility, and premature decay; +most of the furniture was mismatched and misplaced; many of the rooms +had changed their original functions or doubled them; a smell of cooking +came from the library, on whose shelves, mingled with books, were +dresses and household linen, and through the door of a room into which +Mrs. Delatour retired to remove her duster Mr. Bowers caught a glimpse +of a bed, and of a table covered with books and papers, at which a +tall, fair girl was writing. In a few moments Mrs. Delatour returned, +accompanied by this girl, and Eunice, her short-lipped sister. Bob, who +joined the party seated around Mr. Bowers and a table set with cake, a +decanter, and glasses, completed the group. Emboldened by the presence +of the tall Cynthia and his glimpse of her previous literary attitude, +Mr. Bowers resolved to make one more attempt. + +“I suppose these yer young ladies sometimes go to the wood, too?” As his +eye rested on Cynthia, she replied:-- + +“Oh, yes.” + +“I reckon on account of the purty shadows down in the brush, and the +soft light, eh? and all that?” he continued, with a playful manner but a +serious accession of color. + +“Why, the woods belong to us. It's mar's property!” broke in Eunice with +a flash of teeth. + +“Well, Lordy, I wanter know!” said Mr. Bowers, in some astonishment. +“Why, that's right in my line, too! I've been sightin' timber all along +here, and that's how I dropped in on yer mar.” Then, seeing a look of +eagerness light up the faces of Bob and Eunice, he was encouraged to +make the most of his opportunity. “Why, ma'am,” he went on, cheerfully, +“I reckon you're holdin' that wood at a pretty stiff figger, now.” + +“Why?” asked Mrs. Delatour, simply. + +Mr. Bowers delivered a wink at Bob and Eunice, who were still watching +him with anxiety. “Well, not on account of the actool timber, for the +best of it ain't sound,” he said, “but on account of its bein' famous! +Everybody that reads that pow'ful pretty poem about it in the 'Excelsior +Magazine' wants to see it. Why, it would pay the Green Springs +hotel-keeper to buy it up for his customers. But I s'pose you reckon to +keep it--along with the poetess--in your famerly?” + +Although Mr. Bowers long considered this speech as the happiest and most +brilliant effort of his life, its immediate effect was not, perhaps, +all that could be desired. The widow turned upon him a restrained and +darkening face. Cynthia half rose with an appealing “Oh, mar!” and Bob +and Eunice, having apparently pinched each other to the last stage of +endurance, retired precipitately from the room in a prolonged giggle. + +“I have not yet thought of disposing of the Summit woods, Mr. Bowers,” + said Mrs. Delatour, coldly, “but if I should do so, I will consult you. +You must excuse the children, who see so little company, they are quite +unmanageable when strangers are present. Cynthia, WILL you see if the +servants have looked after Mr. Bowers's horse? You know Bob is not to be +trusted.” + +There was clearly nothing else for Mr. Bowers to do but to take his +leave, which he did respectfully, if not altogether hopefully. But when +he had reached the lane, his horse shied from the unwonted spectacle of +Bob, swinging his hat, and apparently awaiting him, from the fork of a +wayside sapling. + +“Hol' up, mister. Look here!” + +Mr. Bowers pulled up. Bob dropped into the road, and, after a backward +glance over his shoulder, said:-- + +“Drive 'longside the fence in the shadder.” As Mr. Bowers obeyed, +Bob approached the wheels of the buggy in a manner half shy, half +mysterious. “You wanter buy them Summit woods, mister?” + +“Well, per'aps, sonny. Why?” smiled Mr. Bowers. + +“Coz I'll tell ye suthin'. Don't you be fooled into allowin' that +Cynthia wrote that po'try. She didn't--no more'n Eunice nor me. Mar +kinder let ye think it, 'cos she don't want folks to think SHE did it. +But mar wrote that po'try herself; wrote it out o' them thar woods--all +by herself. Thar's a heap more po'try thar, you bet, and jist as good. +And she's the one that kin write it--you hear me? That's my mar, every +time! You buy that thar wood, and get mar to run it for po'try, and +you'll make your pile, sure! I ain't lyin'. You'd better look spry: +thar's another feller snoopin' 'round yere--only he barked up the wrong +tree, and thought it was Cynthia, jist as you did.” + +“Another feller?” repeated the astonished Bowers. + +“Yes; a rig'lar sport. He was orful keen on that po'try, too, you bet. +So you'd better hump yourself afore somebody else cuts in. Mar got a +hundred dollars for that pome, from that editor feller and his pardner. +I reckon that's the rig'lar price, eh?” he added, with a sudden +suspicious caution. + +“I reckon so,” replied Mr. Bowers, blankly. “But--look here, Bob! Do you +mean to say it was your mother--your MOTHER, Bob, who wrote that poem? +Are you sure?” + +“D'ye think I'm lyin'?” said Bob, scornfully. “Don't I know? Don't I +copy 'em out plain for her, so as folks won't know her handwrite? Go +'way! you're loony!” Then, possibly doubting if this latter expression +were strictly diplomatic with the business in hand, he added, in +half-reproach, half-apology, “Don't ye see I don't want ye to be fooled +into losin' yer chance o' buying up that Summit wood? It's the cold +truth I'm tellin' ye.” + +Mr. Bowers no longer doubted it. Disappointed as he undoubtedly was at +first,--and even self-deceived,--he recognized in a flash the grim fact +that the boy had stated. He recalled the apparition of the sad-faced +woman in the wood--her distressed manner, that to his inexperienced +mind now took upon itself the agitated trembling of disturbed mystic +inspiration. A sense of sadness and remorse succeeded his first shock of +disappointment. + +“Well, are ye going to buy the woods?” said Bob, eying him grimly. “Ye'd +better say.” + +Mr. Bowers started. “I shouldn't wonder, Bob,” he said, with a smile, +gathering up his reins. “Anyhow, I'm comin' back to see your mother this +afternoon. And meantime, Bob, you keep the first chance for me.” + +He drove away, leaving the youthful diplomatist standing with his bare +feet in the dust. For a minute or two the young gentleman amused himself +by a few light saltatory steps in the road. Then a smile of scornful +superiority, mingled perhaps with a sense of previous slights and +unappreciation, drew back his little upper lip, and brightened his +mottled cheek. + +“I'd like ter know,” he said, darkly, “what this yer God-forsaken +famerly would do without ME!” + + +CHAPTER V + + +It is to be presumed that the editor and Mr. Hamlin mutually kept to +their tacit agreement to respect the impersonality of the poetess, +for during the next three months the subject was seldom alluded to +by either. Yet in that period White Violet had sent two other +contributions, and on each occasion Mr. Hamlin had insisted upon +increasing the honorarium to the amount of his former gift. In vain the +editor pointed out the danger of this form of munificence; Mr. Hamlin +retorted by saying that if he refused he would appeal to the proprietor, +who certainly would not object to taking the credit of this liberality. +“As to the risks,” concluded Jack, sententiously, “I'll take them; and +as far as you're concerned, you certainly get the worth of your money.” + +Indeed, if popularity was an indiction, this had become suddenly true. +For the poetess's third contribution, without changing its strong +local color and individuality, had been an unexpected outburst of human +passion--a love-song, that touched those to whom the subtler meditative +graces of the poetess had been unknown. Many people had listened to this +impassioned but despairing cry from some remote and charmed solitude, +who had never read poetry before, who translated it into their own +limited vocabulary and more limited experience, and were inexpressibly +affected to find that they, too, understood it; it was caught up and +echoed by the feverish, adventurous, and unsatisfied life that filled +that day and time. Even the editor was surprised and frightened. Like +most cultivated men, he distrusted popularity: like all men who believe +in their own individual judgment, he doubted collective wisdom. Yet +now that his protegee had been accepted by others, he questioned that +judgment and became her critic. It struck him that her sudden outburst +was strained; it seemed to him that in this mere contortion of passion +the sibyl's robe had become rudely disarranged. He spoke to Hamlin, and +even approached the tabooed subject. + +“Did you see anything that suggested this sort of business in--in--that +woman--I mean in--your pilgrimage, Jack?” + +“No,” responded Jack, gravely. “But it's easy to see she's got hold +of some hay-footed fellow up there in the mountains with straws in his +hair, and is playing him for all he's worth. You won't get much more +poetry out of her, I reckon.” + +Is was not long after this conversation that one afternoon, when the +editor was alone, Mr. James Bowers entered the editorial room with much +of the hesitation and irresolution of his previous visit. As the editor +had not only forgotten him, but even, dissociated him with the poetess, +Mr. Bowers was fain to meet his unresponsive eye and manner with some +explanation. + +“Ye disremember my comin' here, Mr. Editor, to ask you the name o' the +lady who called herself 'White Violet,' and how you allowed you couldn't +give it, but would write and ask for it?” + +Mr. Editor, leaning back in his chair, now remembered the occurrence, +but was distressed to add that the situation remained unchanged, and +that he had received no such permission. + +“Never mind THAT, my lad,” said Mr. Bowers, gravely, waving his hand. “I +understand all that; but, ez I've known the lady ever since, and am now +visiting her at her house on the Summit, I reckon it don't make much +matter.” + +It was quite characteristic of Mr. Bowers's smileless earnestness that +he made no ostentation of this dramatic retort, nor of the undisguised +stupefaction of the editor. + +“Do you mean to say that you have met White Violet, the author of these +poems?” repeated the editor. + +“Which her name is Delatour,--the widder Delatour,--ez she has herself +give me permission to tell you,” continued Mr. Bowers, with a certain +abstracted and automatic precision that dissipated any suggestion of +malice in the reversed situation. + +“Delatour!--a widow!” repeated the editor. + +“With five children,” continued Mr. Bowers. Then, with unalterable +gravity, he briefly gave an outline of her condition and the +circumstances of his acquaintance with her. + +“But I reckoned YOU might have known suthin' o' this; though she never +let on you did,” he concluded, eying the editor with troubled curiosity. + +The editor did not think it necessary to implicate Mr. Hamlin. He said, +briefly, “I? Oh, no!” + +“Of course, YOU might not have seen her?” said Mr. Bowers, keeping the +same grave, troubled gaze on the editor. + +“Of course not,” said the editor, somewhat impatient under the singular +scrutiny of Mr. Bowers; “and I'm very anxious to know how she looks. +Tell me, what is she like?” + +“She is a fine, pow'ful, eddicated woman,” said Mr. Bowers, with slow +deliberation. “Yes, sir,--a pow'ful woman, havin' grand ideas of her +own, and holdin' to 'em.” He had withdrawn his eyes from the editor, and +apparently addressed the ceiling in confidence. + +“But what does she look like, Mr. Bowers?” said the editor, smiling. + +“Well, sir, she looks--LIKE--IT! Yes,”--with deliberate caution,--“I +should say, just like it.” + +After a pause, apparently to allow the editor to materialize this +ravishing description, he said, gently, “Are you busy just now?” + +“Not very. What can I do for you?” + +“Well, not much for ME, I reckon,” he returned, with a deeper +respiration, that was his nearest approach to a sigh, “but suthin' +perhaps for yourself and--another. Are you married?” + +“No,” said the editor, promptly. + +“Nor engaged to any--young lady?”--with great politeness. + +“No.” + +“Well, mebbe you think it a queer thing for me to say,--mebbe you reckon +you KNOW it ez well ez anybody,--but it's my opinion that White Violet +is in love with you.” + +“With me?” ejaculated the editor, in a hopeless astonishment that at +last gave way to an incredulous and irresistible laugh. + +A slight touch of pain passed over Mr. Bowers's dejected face, but left +the deep outlines set with a rude dignity. “It's SO,” he said, slowly, +“though, as a young man and a gay feller, ye may think it's funny.” + +“No, not funny, but a terrible blunder, Mr. Bowers, for I give you my +word I know nothing of the lady and have never set eyes upon her.” + +“No, but she has on YOU. I can't say,” continued Mr. Bowers, with +sublime naivete, “that I'd ever recognize you from her description, but +a woman o' that kind don't see with her eyes like you and me, but with +all her senses to onct, and a heap more that ain't senses as we know +'em. The same eyes that seed down through the brush and ferns in the +Summit woods, the same ears that heerd the music of the wind trailin' +through the pines, don't see you with my eyes or hear you with my ears. +And when she paints you, it's nat'ril for a woman with that pow'ful mind +and grand idees to dip her brush into her heart's blood for warmth and +color. Yer smilin', young man. Well, go on and smile at me, my lad, but +not at her. For you don't know her. When you know her story as I do, +when you know she was made a wife afore she ever knew what it was to be +a young woman, when you know that the man she married never understood +the kind o' critter he was tied to no more than ef he'd been a steer +yoked to a Morgan colt, when ye know she had children growin' up around +her afore she had given over bein' a sort of child herself, when ye +know she worked and slaved for that man and those children about the +house--her heart, her soul, and all her pow'ful mind bein' all the time +in the woods along with the flickering leaves and the shadders,--when +ye mind she couldn't get the small ways o' the ranch because she had the +big ways o' Natur' that made it,--then you'll understand her.” + +Impressed by the sincerity of his visitor's manner, touched by the +unexpected poetry of his appeal, and yet keenly alive to the absurdity +of an incomprehensible blunder somewhere committed, the editor gasped +almost hysterically,-- + +“But why should all this make her in love with ME?” + +“Because ye are both gifted,” returned Mr. Bowers, with sad but +unconquerable conviction; “because ye're both, so to speak, in a line +o' idees and business that draws ye together,--to lean on each other and +trust each other ez pardners. Not that YE are ezakly her ekal,” he went +on, with a return to his previous exasperating naivete, “though I've +heerd promisin' things of ye, and ye're still young, but in matters +o' this kind there is allers one ez hez to be looked up to by +the other,--and gin'rally the wrong one. She looks up to you, Mr. +Editor,--it's part of her po'try,--ez she looks down inter the brush +and sees more than is plain to you and me. Not,” he continued, with a +courteously deprecating wave of the hand, “ez you hain't bin kind to +her--mebbe TOO kind. For thar's the purty letter you writ her, thar's +the perlite, easy, captivatin' way you had with her gals and +that boy--hold on!”--as the editor made a gesture of despairing +renunciation,--“I ain't sayin' you ain't right in keepin' it to +yourself,--and thar's the extry money you sent her every time. Stop! she +knows it was EXTRY, for she made a p'int o' gettin' me to find out the +market price o' po'try in papers and magazines, and she reckons you've +bin payin' her four hundred per cent. above them figgers--hold on! I +ain't sayin' it ain't free and liberal in you, and I'd have done the +same thing; yet SHE thinks”-- + +But the editor had risen hastily to his feet with flushing cheeks. + +“One moment, Mr. Bowers,” he said, hurriedly. “This is the most dreadful +blunder of all. The gift is not mine. It was the spontaneous offering +of another who really admired our friend's work,--a gentleman who”--He +stopped suddenly. + +The sound of a familiar voice, lightly humming, was borne along the +passage; the light tread of a familiar foot was approaching. The editor +turned quickly towards the open door,--so quickly that Mr. Bowers was +fain to turn also. + +For a charming instant the figure of Jack Hamlin, handsome, careless, +and confident, was framed in the doorway. His dark eyes, with their +habitual scorn of his average fellow-man, swept superciliously over +Mr. Bowers, and rested for an instant with caressing familiarity on the +editor. + +“Well, sonny, any news from the old girl at the Summit?” + +“No-o,” hastily stammered the editor, with a half-hysterical laugh. “No, +Jack. Excuse me a moment.” + +“All right; busy, I see. Hasta manana.” + +The picture vanished, the frame was empty. + +“You see,” continued the editor, turning to Mr. Bowers, “there has been +a mistake. I”--but he stopped suddenly at the ashen face of Mr. Bowers, +still fixed in the direction of the vanished figure. + +“Are you ill?” + +Mr. Bowers did not reply, but slowly withdrew his eyes, and turned them +heavily on the editor. Then, drawing a longer, deeper breath, he picked +up his soft felt hat, and, moulding it into shape in his hands as if +preparing to put it on, he moistened his dry, grayish lips, and said, +gently:-- + +“Friend o' yours?” + +“Yes,” said the editor--“Jack Hamlin. Of course, you know him?” + +“Yes.” + +Mr. Bowers here put his hat on his head, and, after a pause, turned +round slowly once or twice, as if he had forgotten it, and was still +seeking it. Finally he succeeded in finding the editor's hand, and shook +it, albeit his own trembled slightly. Then he said:-- + +“I reckon you're right. There's bin a mistake. I see it now. Good-by. +If you're ever up my way, drop in and see me.” He then walked to the +doorway, passed out, and seemed to melt into the afternoon shadows of +the hall. + +He never again entered the office of the “Excelsior Magazine,” neither +was any further contribution ever received from White Violet. To a +polite entreaty from the editor, addressed first to “White Violet” + and then to Mrs. Delatour, there was no response. The thought of Mr. +Hamlin's cynical prophecy disturbed him, but that gentleman, preoccupied +in filling some professional engagements in Sacramento, gave him no +chance to acquire further explanations as to the past or the future. The +youthful editor was at first in despair and filled with a vague remorse +of some unfulfilled duty. But, to his surprise, the readers of the +magazine seemed to survive their talented contributor, and the feverish +life that had been thrilled by her song, in two months had apparently +forgotten her. Nor was her voice lifted from any alien quarter; the +domestic and foreign press that had echoed her lays seemed to respond no +longer to her utterance. + +It is possible that some readers of these pages may remember a previous +chronicle by the same historian wherein it was recorded that the +volatile spirit of Mr. Hamlin, slightly assisted by circumstances, +passed beyond these voices at the Ranch of the Blessed Fisherman, some +two years later. As the editor stood beside the body of his friend on +the morning of the funeral, he noticed among the flowers laid upon his +bier by loving hands a wreath of white violets. Touched and disturbed +by a memory long since forgotten, he was further embarrassed, as the +cortege dispersed in the Mission graveyard, by the apparition of the +tall figure of Mr. James Bowers from behind a monumental column. The +editor turned to him quickly. + +“I am glad to see you here,” he said, awkwardly, and he knew not +why; then, after a pause, “I trust you can give me some news of Mrs. +Delatour. I wrote to her nearly two years ago, but had no response.” + +“Thar's bin no Mrs. Delatour for two years,” said Mr. Bowers, +contemplatively stroking his beard; “and mebbe that's why. She's bin for +two years Mrs. Bowers.” + +“I congratulate you,” said the editor; “but I hope there still remains +a White Violet, and that, for the sake of literature, she has not given +up”-- + +“Mrs. Bowers,” interrupted Mr. Bowers, with singular deliberation, +“found that makin' po'try and tendin' to the cares of a growin'-up +famerly was irritatin' to the narves. They didn't jibe, so to speak. +What Mrs. Bowers wanted--and what, po'try or no po'try, I've bin tryin' +to give her--was Rest! She's bin havin' it comfor'bly up at my ranch +at Mendocino, with her children and me. Yes, sir”--his eye wandered +accidentally to the new-made grave--“you'll excuse my sayin' it to a man +in your profession, but it's what most folks will find is a heap better +than readin' or writin' or actin' po'try--and that's Rest!” + + + + +THE CHATELAINE OF BURNT RIDGE + + +CHAPTER I + + +It had grown dark on Burnt Ridge. Seen from below, the whole serrated +crest that had glittered in the sunset as if its interstices were eaten +by consuming fires, now, closed up its ranks of blackened shafts and +became again harsh and sombre chevaux de frise against the sky. A faint +glow still lingered over the red valley road, as if it were its own +reflection, rather than any light from beyond the darkened ridge. Night +was already creeping up out of remote canyons and along the furrowed +flanks of the mountain, or settling on the nearer woods with the sound +of home-coming and innumerable wings. At a point where the road began to +encroach upon the mountain-side in its slow winding ascent the darkness +had become so real that a young girl cantering along the rising terrace +found difficulty in guiding her horse, with eyes still dazzled by the +sunset fires. + +In spite of her precautions, the animal suddenly shied at some object +in the obscured roadway, and nearly unseated her. The accident disclosed +not only the fact that she was riding in a man's saddle, but also a foot +and ankle that her ordinary walking-dress was too short to hide. It was +evident that her equestrian exercise was extempore, and that at that +hour and on that road she had not expected to meet company. But she was +apparently a good horsewoman, for the mischance which might have thrown +a less practical or more timid rider seemed of little moment to her. +With a strong hand and determined gesture she wheeled her frightened +horse back into the track, and rode him directly at the object. But here +she herself slightly recoiled, for it was the body of a man lying in the +road. + +As she leaned forward over her horse's shoulder, she could see by the +dim light that he was a miner, and that, though motionless, he was +breathing stertorously. Drunk, no doubt!--an accident of the locality +alarming only to her horse. But although she cantered impatiently +forward, she had not proceeded a hundred yards before she stopped +reflectively, and trotted back again. He had not moved. She could now +see that his head and shoulders were covered with broken clods of earth +and gravel, and smaller fragments lay at his side. A dozen feet above +him on the hillside there was a foot trail which ran parallel with the +bridle-road, and occasionally overhung it. It seemed possible that he +might have fallen from the trail and been stunned. + +Dismounting, she succeeded in dragging him to a safer position by the +bank. The act discovered his face, which was young, and unknown to her. +Wiping it with the silk handkerchief which was loosely slung around his +neck after the fashion of his class, she gave a quick feminine glance +around her and then approached her own and rather handsome face near his +lips. There was no odor of alcohol in the thick and heavy respiration. +Mounting again, she rode forward at an accelerated pace, and in twenty +minutes had reached a higher tableland of the mountain, a cleared +opening in the forest that showed signs of careful cultivation, and +a large, rambling, yet picturesque-looking dwelling, whose unpainted +red-wood walls were hidden in roses and creepers. Pushing open a +swinging gate, she entered the inclosure as a brown-faced man, dressed +as a vaquero, came towards her as if to assist her to alight. But she +had already leaped to the ground and thrown him the reins. + +“Miguel,” she said, with a mistress's quiet authority in her boyish +contralto voice, “put Glory in the covered wagon, and drive down the +road as far as the valley turning. There's a man lying near the right +bank, drunk, or sick, may be, or perhaps crippled by a fall. Bring him +up here, unless somebody has found him already, or you happen to know +who he is and where to take him.” + +The vaquero raised his shoulders, half in disappointed expectation +of some other command. “And your brother, senora, he has not himself +arrived.” + +A light shadow of impatience crossed her face. “No,” she said, bluntly. +“Come, be quick.” + +She turned towards the house as the man moved away. Already a +gaunt-looking old man had appeared in the porch, and was awaiting her +with his hand shadowing his angry, suspicious eyes, and his lips moving +querulously. + +“Of course, you've got to stand out there and give orders and 'tend +to your own business afore you think o' speaking to your own flesh and +blood,” he said aggrievedly. “That's all YOU care!” + +“There was a sick man lying in the road, and I've sent Miguel to look +after him,” returned the girl, with a certain contemptuous resignation. + +“Oh, yes!” struck in another voice, which seemed to belong to the female +of the first speaker's species, and to be its equal in age and temper, +“and I reckon you saw a jay bird on a tree, or a squirrel on the fence, +and either of 'em was more important to you than your own brother.” + +“Steve didn't come by the stage, and didn't send any message,” continued +the young girl, with the same coldly resigned manner. “No one had any +news of him, and, as I told you before, I didn't expect any.” + +“Why don't you say right out you didn't WANT any?” said the old man, +sneeringly. “Much you inquired! No; I orter hev gone myself, and I would +if I was master here, instead of me and your mother bein' the dust of +the yearth beneath your feet.” + +The young girl entered the house, followed by the old man, passing an +old woman seated by the window, who seemed to be nursing her resentment +and a large Bible which she held clasped against her shawled bosom +at the same moment. Going to the wall, she hung up her large hat +and slightly shook the red dust from her skirts as she continued her +explanation, in the same deep voice, with a certain monotony of logic +and possibly of purpose and practice also. + +“You and mother know as well as I do, father, that Stephen is no more to +be depended upon than the wind that blows. It's three years since he has +been promising to come, and even getting money to come, and yet he has +never showed his face, though he has been a dozen times within five +miles of this house. He doesn't come because he doesn't want to come. As +to YOUR going over to the stage-office, I went there myself at the last +moment to save you the mortification of asking questions of strangers +that they know have been a dozen times answered already.” + +There was such a ring of absolute truthfulness, albeit worn by +repetition, in the young girl's deep honest voice that for one instant +her two more emotional relatives quailed before it; but only for a +moment. + +“That's right!” shrilled the old woman. “Go on and abuse your own +brother. It's only the fear you have that he'll make his fortune yet and +shame you before the father and mother you despise.” + +The young girl remained standing by the window, motionless and +apparently passive, as if receiving an accepted and usual punishment. +But here the elder woman gave way to sobs and some incoherent snuffling, +at which the younger went away. Whether she recognized in her mother's +tears the ordinary deliquescence of emotion, or whether, as a woman +herself, she knew that this mere feminine conventionality could not +possibly be directed at her, and that the actual conflict between them +had ceased, she passed slowly on to an inner hall, leaving the male +victim, her unfortunate father, to succumb, as he always did sooner or +later, to their influence. Crossing the hall, which was decorated with a +few elk horns, Indian trophies, and mountain pelts, she entered another +room, and closed the door behind her with a gesture of relief. + +The room, which looked upon a porch, presented a singular combination of +masculine business occupations and feminine taste and adornment. A desk +covered with papers, a shelf displaying a ledger and account-books, +another containing works of reference, a table with a vase of flowers +and a lady's riding-whip upon it, a map of California flanked on either +side by an embroidered silken workbag and an oval mirror decked with +grasses, a calendar and interest-table hanging below two school-girl +crayons of classic heads with the legend, “Josephine Forsyth +fecit,”--were part of its incongruous accessories. The young girl +went to her desk, but presently moved and turned towards the window +thoughtfully. The last gleam had died from the steel-blue sky; a +few lights like star points began to prick out the lower valley. The +expression of monotonous restraint and endurance had not yet faded from +her face. + +Yet she had been accustomed to scenes like the one she had just passed +though since her girlhood. Five years ago, Alexander Forsyth, her uncle, +had brought her to this spot--then a mere log cabin on the hillside--as +a refuge from the impoverished and shiftless home of his elder brother +Thomas and his ill-tempered wife. Here Alexander Forsyth, by reason of +his more dominant character and business capacity, had prospered until +he became a rich and influential ranch owner. Notwithstanding her +father's jealousy of Alexander's fortune, and the open rupture that +followed between the brothers, Josephine retained her position in the +heart and home of her uncle without espousing the cause of either; and +her father was too prudent not to recognize the near and prospective +advantages of such a mediator. Accustomed to her parents' extravagant +denunciations, and her uncle's more repressed but practical contempt of +them, the unfortunate girl early developed a cynical disbelief in the +virtues of kinship in the abstract, and a philosophical resignation to +its effects upon her personally. Believing that her father and uncle +fairly represented the fraternal principle, she was quite prepared for +the early defection and distrust of her vagabond and dissipated brother +Stephen, and accepted it calmly. True to an odd standard of justice, +which she had erected from the crumbling ruins of her own domestic +life, she was tolerant of everything but human perfection. This quality, +however fatal to her higher growth, had given her a peculiar capacity +for business which endeared her to her uncle. Familiar with the +strong passions and prejudices of men, she had none of those feminine +meannesses, a wholesome distrust of which had kept her uncle a bachelor. +It was not strange, therefore, that when he died two years ago it was +found that he had left her his entire property, real and personal, +limited only by a single condition. She was to undertake the vocation +of a “sole trader,” and carry on the business under the name of “J. +Forsyth.” If she married, the estate and property was to be held +distinct from her husband's, inalienable under the “Married Woman's +Property Act,” and subject during her life only to her own control and +personal responsibilities as a trader. + +The intense disgust and discomfiture of her parents, who had expected to +more actively participate in their brother's fortune, may be imagined. +But it was not equal to their fury when Josephine, instead of providing +for them a separate maintenance out of her abundance, simply offered to +transfer them and her brother to her own house on a domestic but not +a business equality. There being no alternative but their former +precarious shiftless life in their “played-out” claim in the valley, +they wisely consented, reserving the sacred right of daily protest and +objurgation. In the economy of Burnt Ridge Ranch they alone took it upon +themselves to represent the shattered domestic altar and its outraged +Lares and Penates. And so conscientiously did they perform their task +as even occasionally to impede the business visitor to the ranch, and to +cause some of the more practical neighbors seriously to doubt the young +girl's commercial wisdom. But she was firm. Whether she thought her +parents a necessity of respectable domesticity, or whether she regarded +their presence in the light of a penitential atonement for some previous +disregard of them, no one knew. Public opinion inclined to the latter. + +The black line of ridge faded out with her abstraction, and she +turned from the window and lit the lamp on her desk. The yellow light +illuminated her face and figure. In their womanly graces there was no +trace of what some people believed to be a masculine character, except +a singularly frank look of critical inquiry and patient attention in her +dark eyes. Her long brown hair was somewhat rigidly twisted into a knot +on the top of her head, as if more for security than ornament. Brown +was also the prevailing tint of her eyebrows, thickly-set eyelashes, and +eyes, and was even suggested in the slight sallowness of her complexion. +But her lips were well-cut and fresh-colored and her hands and feet +small and finely formed. She would have passed for a pretty girl, had +she not suggested something more. + +She sat down, and began to examine a pile of papers before her with that +concentration and attention to detail which was characteristic of her +eyes, pausing at times with prettily knit brows, and her penholder +between her lips, in the semblance of a pout that was pleasant enough to +see. Suddenly the rattle of hoofs and wheels struck her with the sense +of something forgotten, and she put down her work quickly and stood up +listening. The sound of rough voices and her father's querulous accents +was broken upon by a cultivated and more familiar utterance: “All right; +I'll speak to her at once. Wait there,” and the door opened to the +well-known physician of Burnt Ridge, Dr. Duchesne. + +“Look here,” he said, with an abruptness that was only saved from being +brusque by a softer intonation and a reassuring smile, “I met Miguel +helping an accident into your buggy. Your orders, eh?” + +“Oh, yes,” said Josephine, quietly. “A man I saw on the road.” + +“Well, it's a bad case, and wants prompt attention. And as your house is +the nearest I came with him here.” + +“Certainly,” she said gravely. “Take him to the second room +beyond--Steve's room--it's ready,” she explained to two dusky shadows in +the hall behind the doctor. + +“And look here,” said the doctor, partly closing the door behind him +and regarding her with critical eyes, “you always said you'd like to see +some of my queer cases. Well, this is one--a serious one, too; in fact, +it's just touch and go with him. There's a piece of the bone pressing +on the brain no bigger than that, but as much as if all Burnt Ridge was +atop of him! I'm going to lift it. I want somebody here to stand by, +some one who can lend a hand with a sponge, eh?--some one who isn't +going to faint or scream, or even shake a hair's-breadth, eh?” + +The color rose quickly to the girl's cheek, and her eyes kindled. “I'll +come,” she said thoughtfully. “Who is he?” + +The doctor stared slightly at the unessential query. “Don't know,--one +of the river miners, I reckon. It's an urgent case. I'll go and get +everything ready. You'd better,” he added, with an ominous glance at +her gray frock, “put something over your dress.” The suggestion made her +grave, but did not alter her color. + +A moment later she entered the room. It was the one that had always been +set apart for her brother: the very bed on which the unconscious man +lay had been arranged that morning with her own hands. Something of +this passed through her mind as she saw that the doctor had wheeled it +beneath the strong light in the centre of the room, stripped its +outer coverings with professional thoughtfulness, and rearranged the +mattresses. But it did not seem like the same room. There was a pungent +odor in the air from some freshly-opened phial; an almost feminine +neatness and luxury in an open morocco case like a jewel box on the +table, shining with spotless steel. At the head of the bed one of her +own servants, the powerful mill foreman, was assisting with the +mingled curiosity and blase experience of one accustomed to smashed and +lacerated digits. At first she did not look at the central unconscious +figure on the bed, whose sufferings seemed to her to have been +vicariously transferred to the concerned, eager, and drawn faces that +looked down upon its immunity. Then she femininely recoiled before the +bared white neck and shoulders displayed above the quilt, until, forcing +herself to look upon the face half-concealed by bandages and the head +from which the dark tangles of hair had been ruthlessly sheared, she +began to share the doctor's unconcern in his personality. What mattered +who or what HE was? It was--a case! + +The operation began. With the same earnest intelligence that she had +previously shown, she quickly and noiselessly obeyed the doctor's +whispered orders, and even half anticipated them. She was conscious of a +singular curiosity that, far from being mean or ignoble, seemed to lift +her not only above the ordinary weaknesses of her own sex, but made her +superior to the men around her. Almost before she knew it, the operation +was over, and she regarded with equal curiosity the ostentatious +solicitude with which the doctor seemed to be wiping his fateful +instrument that bore an odd resemblance to a silver-handled centre-bit. +The stertorous breathing below the bandages had given way to a fainter +but more natural respiration. There was a moment of suspense. The +doctor's hand left the pulse and lifted the closed eyelid of the +sufferer. A slight movement passed over the figure. The sluggish face +had cleared; life seemed to struggle back into it before even the dull +eyes participated in the glow. Dr. Duchesne with a sudden gesture waved +aside his companions, but not before Josephine had bent her head eagerly +forward. + +“He is coming to,” she said. + +At the sound of that deep clear voice--the first to break the hush of +the room--the dull eyes leaped up, and the head turned in its direction. +The lips moved and uttered a single rapid sentence. The girl recoiled. + +“You're all right now,” said the doctor, cheerfully, intent only upon +the form before him. + +The lips moved again, but this time feebly and vacantly; the eyes were +staring vaguely around. + +“What's matter? What's all about?” said the man, thickly. + +“You've had a fall. Think a moment. Where do you live?” + +Again the lips moved, but this time only to emit a confused, incoherent +murmur. Dr. Duchesne looked grave, but recovered himself quickly. + +“That will do. Leave him alone now,” he said brusquely to the others. + +But Josephine lingered. + +“He spoke well enough just now,” she said eagerly. “Did you hear what he +said?” + +“Not exactly,” said the doctor, abstractedly, gazing at the man. + +“He said, 'You'll have to kill me first,'” said Josephine, slowly. + +“Humph;” said the doctor, passing his hand backwards and forwards before +the man's eyes to note any change in the staring pupils. + +“Yes,” continued Josephine, gravely. “I suppose,” she added, cautiously, +“he was thinking of the operation--of what you had just done to him?” + +“What I had done to him? Oh, yes!” + + +CHAPTER II + + +Before noon the next day it was known throughout Burnt Ridge Valley that +Dr. Duchesne had performed a difficult operation upon an unknown man, +who had been picked up unconscious from a fall, and carried to Burnt +Ridge Ranch. But although the unfortunate man's life was saved by the +operation, he had only momentarily recovered consciousness--relapsing +into a semi-idiotic state, which effectively stopped the discovery +of any clue to his friends or his identity. As it was evidently an +ACCIDENT, which, in that rude community--and even in some more civilized +ones--conveyed a vague impression of some contributary incapacity on the +part of the victim, or some Providential interference of a retributive +character, Burnt Ridge gave itself little trouble about it. It is +unnecessary to say that Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth gave themselves and +Josephine much more. They had a theory and a grievance. Satisfied from +the first that the alleged victim was a drunken tramp, who submitted to +have a hole bored in his head in order to foist himself upon the ranch, +they were loud in their protests, even hinting at a conspiracy between +Josephine and the stranger to supplant her brother in the property, as +he had already in the spare bedroom. “Didn't all that yer happen THE +VERY NIGHT she pretended to go for Stephen--eh?” said Mrs. Forsyth. +“Tell me that! And didn't she have it all arranged with the buggy +to bring him here, as that sneaking doctor let out--eh? Looks mighty +curious, don't it?” she muttered darkly to the old man. But although +that gentleman, even from his own selfish view, would scarcely have +submitted to a surgical operation and later idiocy as the price of +insuring comfortable dependency, he had no doubt others were base enough +to do it; and lent a willing ear to his wife's suspicions. + +Josephine's personal knowledge of the stranger went little further. +Doctor Duchesne had confessed to her his professional disappointment at +the incomplete results of the operation. He had saved the man's life, +but as yet not his reason. There was still hope, however, for the +diagnosis revealed nothing that might prejudice a favorable progress. It +was a most interesting case. He would watch it carefully, and as soon +as the patient could be removed would take him to the county hospital, +where, under his own eyes, the poor fellow would have the benefit of +the latest science and the highest specialists. Physically, he was doing +remarkably well; indeed, he must have been a fine young chap, free from +blood taint or vicious complication, whose flesh had healed like an +infant's. It should be recorded that it was at this juncture that Mrs. +Forsyth first learnt that a SILVER PLATE let into the artful stranger's +skull was an adjunct of the healing process! Convinced that this +infamous extravagance was part and parcel of the conspiracy, and was +only the beginning of other assimilations of the Forsyths' metallic +substance; that the plate was probably polished and burnished with +a fulsome inscription to the doctor's skill, and would pass into the +possession and adornment of a perfect stranger, her rage knew no bounds. +He or his friends ought to be made to pay for it or work it out! In vain +it was declared that a few dollars were all that was found in the man's +pocket, and that no memoranda gave any indication of his name, friends, +or history beyond the suggestion that he came from a distance. This was +clearly a part of the conspiracy! Even Josephine's practical good +sense was obliged to take note of this singular absence of all record +regarding him, and the apparent obliteration of everything that might be +responsible for his ultimate fate. + +Homeless, friendless, helpless, and even nameless, the unfortunate man +of twenty-five was thus left to the tender mercies of the mistress of +Burnt Ridge Ranch, as if he had been a new-born foundling laid at her +door. But this mere claim of weakness was not all; it was supplemented +by a singular personal appeal to Josephine's nature. From the time that +he turned his head towards her voice on that fateful night, his eyes had +always followed her around the room with a wondering, yearning, canine +half-intelligence. Without being able to convince herself that he +understood her better than his regular attendant furnished by the +doctor, she could not fail to see that he obeyed her implicitly, and +that whenever any difficulty arose between him and his nurse she was +always appealed to. Her pride in this proof of her practical sovereignty +WAS flattered; and when Doctor Duchesne finally admitted that although +the patient was now physically able to be removed to the hospital, yet +he would lose in the change that very strong factor which Josephine had +become in his mental recovery, the young girl as frankly suggested that +he should stay as long as there was any hope of restoring his reason. +Doctor Duchesne was delighted. With all his enthusiasm for science, he +had a professional distrust of some of its disciples, and perhaps was +not sorry to keep this most interesting case in his own hands. To +him her suggestion was only a womanly kindness, tempered with womanly +curiosity. But the astonishment and stupefaction of her parents at this +evident corroboration of suspicions they had as yet only half believed +was tinged with superstitious dread. Had she fallen in love with this +helpless stranger? or, more awful to contemplate, was he really no +stranger, but a surreptitious lover thus strategically brought under her +roof? For once they refrained from open criticism. The very magnitude of +their suspicions left them dumb. + +It was thus that the virgin Chatelaine of Burnt Ridge Ranch was left to +gaze untrammeled upon her pale and handsome guest, whose silken, +bearded lips and sad, childlike eyes might have suggested a more Exalted +Sufferer in their absence of any suggestion of a grosser material +manhood. But even this imaginative appeal did not enter into her +feelings. She felt for her good-looking, helpless patient a profound +and honest pity. I do not know whether she had ever heard that “pity was +akin to love.” She would probably have resented that utterly untenable +and atrocious commonplace. There was no suggestion, real or illusive, +of any previous masterful quality in the man which might have made his +present dependent condition picturesque by contrast. He had come to her +handicapped by an unromantic accident and a practical want of energy and +intellect. He would have to touch her interest anew if, indeed, he +would ever succeed in dispelling the old impression. His beauty, in a +community of picturesquely handsome men, had little weight with her, +except to accent the contrast with their fuller manhood. + +Her life had given her no illusions in regard to the other sex. She had +found them, however, more congenial and safer companions than women, and +more accessible to her own sense of justice and honor. In return, they +had respected and admired rather than loved her, in spite of her womanly +graces. If she had at times contemplated eventual marriage, it was only +as a possible practical partnership in her business; but as she lived in +a country where men thought it dishonorable and a proof of incompetency +to rise by their wives' superior fortune, she had been free from that +kind of mercenary persecution, even from men who might have worshiped +her in hopeless and silent honor. + +For this reason, there was nothing in the situation that suggested +a single compromising speculation in the minds of the neighbors, or +disturbed her own tranquillity. There seemed to be nothing in the future +except a possible relief to her curiosity. Some day the unfortunate +man's reason would be restored, and he would tell his simple history. +Perhaps he might explain what was in his mind when he turned to her +the first evening with that singular sentence which had often recurred +strangely to her, she knew not why. It did not strike her until later +that it was because it had been the solitary indication of an energy and +capacity that seemed unlike him. Nevertheless, after that explanation, +she would have been quite willing to have shaken hands with him and +parted. + +And yet--for there was an unexpressed remainder in her thought--she +was never entirely free or uninfluenced in his presence. The flickering +vacancy of his sad eyes sometimes became fixed with a resolute +immobility under the gentle questioning with which she had sought to +draw out his faculties, that both piqued and exasperated her. He could +say “Yes” and “No,” as she thought intelligently, but he could not utter +a coherent sentence nor write a word, except like a child in imitation +of his copy. She taught him to repeat after her the names of the +inanimate objects in the room, then the names of the doctor, his +attendant, the servant, and, finally, her own under her Christian +prenomen, with frontier familiarity; but when she pointed to himself he +waited for HER to name him! In vain she tried him with all the masculine +names she knew; his was not one of them, or he would not or could not +speak it. For at times she rejected the professional dictum of the +doctor that the faculty of memory was wholly paralyzed or held in +abeyance, even to the half-automatic recollection of his letters, yet +she inconsistently began to teach him the alphabet with the same method, +and--in her sublime unconsciousness of his manhood--with the +same discipline as if he were a very child. When he had recovered +sufficiently to leave his room, she would lead him to the porch before +her window, and make him contented and happy by allowing him to watch +her at work at her desk, occasionally answering his wondering eyes with +a word, or stirring his faculties with a question. I grieve to say +that her parents had taken advantage of this publicity and his supposed +helpless condition to show their disgust of his assumption, to the +extreme of making faces at him--an act which he resented with such a +furious glare that they retreated hurriedly to their own veranda. A +fresh though somewhat inconsistent grievance was added to their previous +indictment of him: “If we ain't found dead in our bed with our throats +cut by that woman's crazy husband” (they had settled by this time that +there had been a clandestine marriage), “we'll be lucky,” groaned Mrs. +Forsyth. + +Meantime, the mountain summer waxed to its fullness of fire and +fruition. There were days when the crowded forest seemed choked and +impeded with its own foliage, and pungent and stifling with its own +rank maturity; when the long hillside ranks of wild oats, thickset and +impassable, filled the air with the heated dust of germination. In this +quickening irritation of life it would be strange if the unfortunate +man's torpid intellect was not helped in its awakening, and he was +allowed to ramble at will over the ranch; but with the instinct of a +domestic animal he always returned to the house, and sat in the porch, +where Josephine usually found him awaiting her when she herself returned +from a visit to the mill. Coming thence one day she espied him on the +mountain-side leaning against a projecting ledge in an attitude so rapt +and immovable that she felt compelled to approach him. He appeared to +be dumbly absorbed in the prospect, which might have intoxicated a saner +mind. + +Half veiled by the heat that rose quiveringly from the fiery canyon +below, the domain of Burnt Ridge stretched away before him, until, +lifted in successive terraces hearsed and plumed with pines, it was at +last lost in the ghostly snow-peaks. But the practical Josephine seized +the opportunity to try once more to awaken the slumbering memory of her +pupil. Following his gaze with signs and questions, she sought to draw +from him some indication of familiar recollection of certain points of +the map thus unrolled behind him. But in vain. She even pointed out the +fateful shadow of the overhanging ledge on the road where she had picked +him up--there was no response in his abstracted eyes. She bit her lips; +she was becoming irritated again. Then it occurred to her that, instead +of appealing to his hopeless memory, she had better trust to some +unreflective automatic instinct independent of it, and she put the +question a little forward: “When you leave us, where will you go from +here?” He stirred slightly, and turned towards her. She repeated her +query slowly and patiently, with signs and gestures recognized between +them. A faint glow of intelligence struggled into his eyes: he lifted +his arm slowly, and pointed. + +“Ah! those white peaks--the Sierras?” she asked, eagerly. No reply. +“Beyond them?” + +“Yes.” + +“The States?” No reply. “Further still?” + +He remained so patiently quiet and still pointing that she leaned +forward, and, following with her eyes the direction of his hand, saw +that he was pointing to the sky! + +Then a great quiet fell upon them. The whole mountain-side seemed to her +to be hushed, as if to allow her to grasp and realize for the first time +the pathos of the ruined life at her side, which IT had known so long, +but which she had never felt till now. The tears came to her eyes; in +her swift revulsion of feeling she caught the thin uplifted hand between +her own. It seemed to her that he was about to raise them to his lips, +but she withdrew them hastily, and moved away. She had a strange fear +that if he had kissed them, it might seem as if some dumb animal had +touched them--or--IT MIGHT NOT. The next day she felt a consciousness +of this in his presence, and a wish that he was well-cured and away. She +determined to consult Dr. Duchesne on the subject when he next called. + +But the doctor, secure in the welfare of his patient, had not visited +him lately, and she found herself presently absorbed in the business of +the ranch, which at this season was particularly trying. There had also +been a quarrel between Dick Shipley, her mill foreman, and Miguel, her +ablest and most trusted vaquero, and in her strict sense of impartial +justice she was obliged to side on the merits of the case with Shipley +against her oldest retainer. This troubled her, as she knew that with +the Mexican nature, fidelity and loyalty were not unmixed with quick and +unreasoning jealousy. For this reason she was somewhat watchful of the +two men when work was over, and there was a chance of their being +thrown together. Once or twice she had remained up late to meet Miguel +returning from the posada at San Ramon, filled with aguardiente and a +recollection of his wrongs, and to see him safely bestowed before she +herself retired. It was on one of those occasions, however, that she +learned that Dick Shipley, hearing that Miguel had disparaged him freely +at the posada, had broken the discipline of the ranch, and absented +himself the same night that Miguel “had leave,” with a view of facing +his antagonist on his own ground. To prevent this, the fearless girl at +once secretly set out alone to overtake and bring back the delinquent. + +For two or three hours the house was thus left to the sole occupancy of +Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth and the invalid--a fact only dimly suspected by the +latter, who had become vaguely conscious of Josephine's anxiety, and had +noticed the absence of light and movement in her room. For this reason, +therefore, having risen again and mechanically taken his seat in the +porch to await her return, he was startled by hearing HER voice in the +shadow of the lower porch, accompanied by a hurried tapping against the +door of the old couple. The half-reasoning man arose, and would have +moved towards it, but suddenly he stopped rigidly, with white and parted +lips and vacantly distended eyeballs. + +Meantime the voice and muffled tapping had brought the tremulous fingers +of old Forsyth to the door-latch. He opened the door partly; a slight +figure that had been lurking in the shadow of the porch pushed rapidly +through the opening. There was a faint outcry quickly hushed, and the +door closed again. The rays of a single candle showed the two old people +hysterically clasping in their arms the figure that had entered--a +slight but vicious-looking young fellow of five-and-twenty. + +“There, d--n it!” he said impatiently, in a voice whose rich depth was +like Josephine's, but whose querulous action was that of the two old +people before him, “let me go, and quit that, I didn't come here to be +strangled! I want some money--money, you hear! Devilish quick, too, for +I've got to be off again before daylight. So look sharp, will you?” + +“But, Stevy dear, when you didn't come that time three months ago, but +wrote from Los Angeles, you said you'd made a strike at last, and”-- + +“What are you talking about?” he interrupted violently. “That was just +my lyin' to keep you from worryin' me. Three months ago--three months +ago! Why, you must have been crazy to have swallowed it; I hadn't a +cent.” + +“Nor have we,” said the old woman, shrilly. “That hellish sister of +yours still keeps us like beggars. Our only hope was you, our own boy. +And now you only come to--to go again.” + +“But SHE has money; SHE'S doing well, and SHE shall give it to me,” + he went on, angrily. “She can't bully me with her business airs and +morality. Who else has got a right to share, if it is not her own +brother?” + +Alas for the fatuousness of human malevolence! Had the unhappy couple +related only the simple facts they knew about the new guest of Burnt +Ridge Ranch, and the manner of his introduction, they might have spared +what followed. + +But the old woman broke into a vindictive cry: “Who else, Steve--who +else? Why, the slut has brought a MAN here--a sneaking, deceitful, +underhanded, crazy lover!” + +“Oh, has she?” said the young man, fiercely, yet secretly pleased at +this promising evidence of his sister's human weakness. “Where is she? +I'll go to her. She's in her room, I suppose,” and before they could +restrain him, he had thrown off their impeding embraces and darted +across the hall. + +The two old people stared doubtfully at each other. For even this +powerful ally, whose strength, however, they were by no means sure +of, might succumb before the determined Josephine! Prudence demanded a +middle course. “Ain't they brother and sister?” said the old man, with +an air of virtuous toleration. “Let 'em fight it out.” + +The young man impatiently entered the room he remembered to have been +his sister's. By the light of the moon that streamed upon the window +he could see she was not there. He passed hurriedly to the door of her +bedroom; it was open; the room was empty, the bed unturned. She was not +in the house--she had gone to the mill. Ah! What was that they had said? +An infamous thought passed through the scoundrel's mind. Then, in what +he half believed was an access of virtuous fury, he began by the dim +light to rummage in the drawers of the desk for such loose coin or +valuables as, in the perfect security of the ranch, were often left +unguarded. Suddenly he heard a heavy footstep on the threshold, and +turned. + +An awful vision--a recollection, so unexpected, so ghostlike in that +weird light that he thought he was losing his senses--stood before him. +It moved forwards with staring eyeballs and white and open lips from +which a horrible inarticulate sound issued that was the speech of no +living man! With a single desperate, almost superhuman effort Stephen +Forsyth bounded aside, leaped from the window, and ran like a madman +from the house. Then the apparition trembled, collapsed, and sank in an +undistinguishable heap to the ground. + +When Josephine Forsyth returned an hour later with her mill foreman, she +was startled to find her helpless patient in a fit on the floor of her +room. With the assistance of her now converted and penitent employee, +she had the unfortunate man conveyed to his room--but not until she had +thoughtfully rearranged the disorder of her desk and closed the open +drawers without attracting Dick Shipley's attention. In the morning, +hearing that the patient was still in the semiconscious exhaustion of +his late attack, but without seeing him, she sent for Dr. Duchesne. The +doctor arrived while she was absent at the mill, where, after a careful +examination of his patient, he sought her with some little excitement. + +“Well?” she said, with eager gravity. + +“Well, it looks as if your wish would be gratified. Your friend has +had an epileptic fit, but the physical shock has started his mental +machinery again. He has recovered his faculties; his memory is +returning: he thinks and speaks coherently; he is as sane as you and I.” + +“And”--said Josephine, questioning the doctor's knitted eyebrows. + +“I am not yet sure whether it was the result of some shock he doesn't +remember; or an irritation of the brain, which would indicate that the +operation had not been successful and that there was still some physical +pressure or obstruction there--in which case he would be subject to +these attacks all his life.” + +“Do you think his reason came before the fit or after?” asked the girl, +anxiously. + +“I couldn't say. Had anything happened?” + +“I was away, and found him on the floor on my return,” she answered, +half uneasily. After a pause she said, “Then he has told you his name +and all about himself?” + +“Yes, it's nothing at all! He was a stranger just arrived from the +States, going to the mines--the old story; had no near relations, of +course; wasn't missed or asked after; remembers walking along the ridge +and falling over; name, John Baxter, of Maine.” He paused, and relaxing +into a slight smile, added, “I haven't spoiled your romance, have I?” + +“No,” she said, with an answering smile. Then as the doctor walked +briskly away she slightly knitted her pretty brows, hung her head, +patted the ground with her little foot beyond the hem of her gown, and +said to herself, “The man was lying to him.” + + +CHAPTER III + + +On her return to the house, Josephine apparently contented herself with +receiving the bulletin of the stranger's condition from the servant, for +she did not enter his room. She had obtained no theory of last night's +incident from her parents, who, beyond a querulous agitation that was +quickened by the news of his return to reason, refrained from even that +insidious comment which she half feared would follow. When another +day passed without her seeing him, she nevertheless was conscious of a +little embarrassment when his attendant brought her the request that +she would give him a moment's speech in the porch, whither he had been +removed. + +She found him physically weaker; indeed, so much so that she was fain, +even in her embarrassment, to assist him back to the bench from which +he had ceremoniously risen. But she was so struck with the change in +his face and manner, a change so virile and masterful, in spite of its +gentle sadness of manner, that she recoiled with a slight timidity as if +he had been a stranger, although she was also conscious that he seemed +to be more at his ease than she was. He began in a low exhausted voice, +but before he had finished his first sentence, she felt herself in the +presence of a superior. + +“My thanks come very late, Miss Forsyth,” he said, with a faint smile, +“but no one knows better than yourself the reason why, or can better +understand that they mean that the burden you have so generously taken +on yourself is about to be lifted. I know all, Miss Forsyth. Since +yesterday I have learned how much I owe you, even my life I believe, +though I am afraid I must tell you in the same breath that THAT is of +little worth to any one. You have kindly helped and interested yourself +in a poor stranger who turns out to be a nobody, without friends, +without romance, and without even mystery. You found me lying in the +road down yonder, after a stupid accident that might have happened to +any other careless tramp, and which scarcely gave me a claim to a bed +in the county hospital, much less under this kindly roof. It was not my +fault, as you know, that all this did not come out sooner; but while it +doesn't lessen your generosity, it doesn't lessen my debt, and although +I cannot hope to ever repay you, I can at least keep the score from +running on. Pardon my speaking so bluntly, but my excuse for speaking at +all was to say 'Good-by' and 'God bless you.' Dr. Duchesne has promised +to give me a lift on my way in his buggy when he goes.” + +There was a slight touch of consciousness in his voice in spite of its +sadness, which struck the young girl as a weak and even ungentlemanly +note in his otherwise self-abnegating and undemonstrative attitude. If +he was a common tramp, he wouldn't talk in that way, and if he wasn't, +why did he lie? Her practical good sense here asserted itself. + +“But you are far from strong yet; in fact, the doctor says you might +have a relapse at any moment, and you have--that is, you SEEM to have no +money,” she said gravely. + +“That's true,” he said, quickly. “I remember I was quite played out when +I entered the settlement, and I think I had parted from even some little +trifles I carried with me. I am afraid I was a poor find to those who +picked me up, and you ought to have taken warning. But the doctor has +offered to lend me enough to take me to San Francisco, if only to give a +fair trial to the machine he has set once more a-going.” + +“Then you have friends in San Francisco?” said the young girl quickly. +“Those who know you? Why not write to them first, and tell them you are +here?” + +“I don't think your postmaster here would be preoccupied with letters +for John Baxter, if I did,” he said, quietly. “But here is the doctor +waiting. Good-by.” + +He stood looking at her in a peculiar, yet half-resigned way, and held +out his hand. For a moment she hesitated. Had he been less independent +and strong, she would have refused to let him go--have offered him +some slight employment at the ranch; for oddly enough, in spite of the +suspicion that he was concealing something, she felt that she would have +trusted him, and he would have been a help to her. But he was not only +determined, but SHE was all the time conscious that he was a totally +different man from the one she had taken care of, and merely ordinary +prudence demanded that she should know something more of him first. She +gave him her hand constrainedly; he pressed it warmly. + +Dr. Duchesne drove up, helped him into the buggy, smiled a good-natured +but half-perfunctory assurance that he would look after “her patient,” + and drove away. + +The whole thing was over, but so unexpectedly, so suddenly, so +unromantically, so unsatisfactorily, that, although her common sense +told her that it was perfectly natural, proper, business-like, and +reasonable, and, above all, final and complete, she did not know whether +to laugh or be angry. Yet this was her parting from the man who had but +a few days ago moved her to tears with a single hopeless gesture. +Well, this would teach her what to expect. Well, what had she expected? +Nothing! + +Yet for the rest of the day she was unreasonably irritable, and, if the +conjointure be not paradoxical, severely practical, and inhumanly +just. Falling foul of some presumption of Miguel's, based upon his +prescriptive rights through long service on the estate, with the +recollection of her severity towards his antagonist in her mind, she +rated that trusted retainer with such pitiless equity and unfeminine +logic that his hot Latin blood chilled in his veins, and he stood livid +on the road. Then, informing Dick Shipley with equally relentless calm +that she might feel it necessary to change ALL her foremen unless +they could agree in harmony, she sought the dignified seclusion of +her castle. But her respected parents, whose triumphant relief at the +stranger's departure had emboldened them to await her return in their +porch with bended bows of invective and lifted javelins of aggression, +recoiled before the resistless helm of this cold-browed Minerva, who +galloped contemptuously past them. + +Nevertheless, she sat late that night at her desk. The cold moon looked +down upon her window, and lit up the empty porch where her silent guest +had mutely watched her. For a moment she regretted that he had recovered +his reason, excusing herself on the practical ground that he would never +have known his dependence, and he would have been better cared for +by her. She felt restless and uneasy. This slight divergence from the +practical groove in which her life had been set had disturbed her in +many other things, and given her the first views of the narrowness of +it. + +Suddenly she heard a step in the porch. The lateness of the hour, +perhaps some other reason, seemed to startle her, and she half rose. +The next moment the figure of Miguel appeared at the doorway, and with +a quick, hurried look around him, and at the open window, he approached +her. He was evidently under great excitement, his hollow shaven +cheek looked like a waxen effigy in the mission church; his yellow, +tobacco-stained eye glittered like phosphorescent amber, his lank +gray hair was damp and perspiring; but more striking than this was the +evident restraint he had put upon himself, pressing his broad-brimmed +sombrero with both of his trembling yellow hands against his breast. The +young girl cast a hurried glance at the open window and at the gun which +stood in the corner, and then confronted him with clear and steady eyes, +but a paler cheek. + +Ah, he began in Spanish, which he himself had taught her as a child, +it was a strange thing, his coming there to-night; but, then, mother of +God! it was a strange, a terrible thing that she had done to him--old +Miguel, her uncle's servant: he that had known her as a muchacha; he +that had lived all his life at the ranch--ay, and whose fathers before +him had lived there all THEIR lives and driven the cattle over the very +spot where she now stood, before the thieving Americans came here! But +he would be calm; yes, the senora should find him calm, even as she +was when she told him to go. He would not speak. No, he--Miguel--would +contain himself; yes, he HAD mastered himself, but could he restrain +others? Ah, yes, OTHERS--that was it. Could he keep Manuel and Pepe and +Dominguez from talking to the milkman--that leaking sieve, that gabbling +brute of a Shipley, for whose sake she had cast off her old servant that +very day? + +She looked at him with cold astonishment, but without fear. Was he drunk +with aguardiente, or had his jealousy turned his brain? He continued +gasping, but still pressing his hat against his breast. + +Ah, he saw it all! Yes, it was to-day, the day he left. Yes, she had +thought it safe to cast Miguel off now--now that HE was gone! + +Without in the least understanding him, the color had leaped to her +cheek, and the consciousness of it made her furious. + +“How dare you?” she said, passionately. “What has that stranger to do +with my affairs or your insolence?” + +He stopped and gazed at her with a certain admiring loyalty. “Ah! so,” + he said, with a deep breath, “the senora is the niece of her uncle. She +does well not to fear HIM--a dog,”--with a slight shrug,--“who is more +than repaid by the senora's condescension. HE dare not speak!” + +“Who dare not speak? Are you mad?” She stopped with a sudden terrible +instinct of apprehension. “Miguel,” she said in her deepest voice, +“answer me, I command you! Do you know anything of this man?” + +It was Miguel's turn to recoil from his mistress. “Ah, my God! is it +possible the senora has not suspect?” + +“Suspect!” said Josephine, haughtily, albeit her proud heart was beating +quickly. “I SUSPECT nothing. I command you to tell me what you KNOW.” + +Miguel turned with a rapid gesture and closed the door. Then, drawing +her away from the window, he said in a hurried whisper,-- + +“I know that that man has not the name of Baxter! I know that he has +the name of Randolph, a young gambler, who have won a large sum at +Sacramento, and, fearing to be robbed by those he won of, have walk +to himself through the road in disguise of a miner. I know that your +brother Esteban have decoyed him here, and have fallen on him.” + +“Stop!” said the young girl, her eyes, which had been fixed with the +agony of conviction, suddenly flashing with the energy of despair. “And +you call yourself the servant of my uncle, and dare say this of his +nephew?” + +“Yes, senora,” broke out the old man, passionately. “It is because I am +the servant of your uncle that I, and I ALONE, dare say it to you! It +is because I perjured my soul, and have perjured my soul to deny it +elsewhere, that I now dare to say it! It is because I, your servant, +knew it from one of my countrymen, who was of the gang,--because I, +Miguel, knew that your brother was not far away that night, and because +I, whom you would dismiss, have picked up this pocket-book of Randolph's +and your brother's ring which he have dropped, and I have found beneath +the body of the man you sent me to fetch.” + +He drew a packet from his bosom, and tossed it on the desk before her. + +“And why have you not told me this before?” said Josephine, +passionately. + +Miguel shrugged his shoulders. + +“What good? Possibly this dog Randolph would die. Possibly he would +live--as a lunatic. Possibly would happen what has happened! The senora +is beautiful. The American has eyes. If the Dona Josephine's beauty +shall finish what the silly Don Esteban's arm have begun--what matter?” + +“Stop!” cried Josephine, pressing her hands across her shuddering eyes. +Then, uncovering her white and set face, she said rapidly, “Saddle my +horse and your own at once. Then take your choice! Come with me and +repeat all that you have said in the presence of that man, or leave this +ranch forever. For if I live I shall go to him tonight, and tell the +whole story.” + +The old man cast a single glance at his mistress, shrugged his +shoulders, and, without a word, left the room. But in ten minutes they +were on their way to the county town. + +Day was breaking over the distant Burnt Ridge--a faint, ghostly level, +like a funeral pall, in the dim horizon--as they drew up before the +gaunt, white-painted pile of the hospital building. Josephine uttered +a cry. Dr. Duchesne's buggy was before the door. On its very threshold +they met the doctor, dark and irritated. “Then you heard the news?” he +said, quickly. + +Josephine turned her white face to the doctor's. “What news?” she asked, +in a voice that seemed strangely deep and resonant. + +“The poor fellow had another attack last night, and died of exhaustion +about an hour ago. I was too late to save him.” + +“Did he say anything? Was he conscious?” asked the girl, hoarsely. + +“No; incoherent! Now I think of it, he harped on the same string as he +did the night of the operation. What was it he said? you remember.” + +“'You'll have to kill me first,'” repeated Josephine, in a choking +voice. + +“Yes; something about his dying before he'd tell. Well, he came back to +it before he went off--they often do. You seem a little hoarse with your +morning ride. You should take care of that voice of yours. By the way, +it's a good deal like your brother's.” + +***** + +The Chatelaine of Burnt Ridge never married. + + + + +THROUGH THE SANTA CLARA WHEAT + + +CHAPTER I + + +It was an enormous wheat-field in the Santa Clara valley, stretching to +the horizon line unbroken. The meridian sun shone upon it without glint +or shadow; but at times, when a stronger gust of the trade winds passed +over it, there was a quick slanting impression of the whole surface that +was, however, as unlike a billow as itself was unlike a sea. Even when +a lighter zephyr played down its long level, the agitation was +superficial, and seemed only to momentarily lift a veil of greenish +mist that hung above its immovable depths. Occasional puffs of dust +alternately rose and fell along an imaginary line across the field, +as if a current of air were passing through it, but were otherwise +inexplicable. + +Suddenly a faint shout, apparently somewhere in the vicinity of the +line, brought out a perfectly clear response, followed by the audible +murmur of voices, which it was impossible to localize. Yet the whole +field was so devoid of any suggestion of human life or motion that +it seemed rather as if the vast expanse itself had become suddenly +articulate and intelligible. + +“Wot say?” + +“Wheel off.” + +“Whare?” + +“In the road.” + +One of the voices here indicated itself in the direction of the line of +dust, and said, “Comin',” and a man stepped out from the wheat into a +broad and dusty avenue. + +With his presence three things became apparent. + +First, that the puffs of dust indicated the existence of the invisible +avenue through the unlimited and unfenced field of grain; secondly, that +the stalks of wheat on either side of it were so tall as to actually +hide a passing vehicle; and thirdly, that a vehicle had just passed, had +lost a wheel, and been dragged partly into the grain by its frightened +horse, which a dusty man was trying to restrain and pacify. + +The horse, given up to equine hysterics, and evidently convinced that +the ordinary buggy behind him had been changed into some dangerous and +appalling creation, still plunged and kicked violently to rid himself +of it. The man who had stepped out of the depths of the wheat quickly +crossed the road, unhitched the traces, drew back the vehicle, and, +glancing at the traveler's dusty and disordered clothes, said, with curt +sympathy:-- + +“Spilt, too; but not hurt, eh?” + +“No, neither of us. I went over with the buggy when the wheel cramped, +but SHE jumped clear.” + +He made a gesture indicating the presence of another. The man turned +quickly. There was a second figure, a young girl standing beside the +grain from which he had emerged, embracing a few stalks of wheat with +one arm and a hand in which she still held her parasol, while she +grasped her gathered skirts with the other, and trying to find a secure +foothold for her two neat narrow slippers on a crumbling cake of adobe +above the fathomless dust of the roadway. Her face, although annoyed +and discontented, was pretty, and her light dress and slim figure were +suggestive of a certain superior condition. + +The man's manner at once softened with Western courtesy. He swung +his broad-brimmed hat from his head, and bent his body with the +ceremoniousness of the country ball-room. “I reckon the lady had better +come up to the shanty out o' the dust and sun till we kin help you get +these things fixed,” he said to the driver. “I'll send round by the road +for your hoss, and have one of mine fetch up your wagon.” + +“Is it far?” asked the girl, slightly acknowledging his salutation, +without waiting for her companion to reply. + +“Only a step this way,” he answered, motioning to the field of wheat +beside her. + +“What in THERE? I never could go in there,” she said, decidedly. + +“It's a heap shorter than by the road, and not so dusty. I'll go with +you, and pilot you.” + +The young girl cast a vexed look at her companion as the probable cause +of all this trouble, and shook her head. But at the same moment one +little foot slipped from the adobe into the dust again. She instantly +clambered back with a little feminine shriek, and ejaculated: “Well, +of all things!” and then, fixing her blue annoyed eyes on the stranger, +asked impatiently, “Why couldn't I go there by the road 'n the wagon? I +could manage to hold on and keep in.” + +“Because I reckon you'd find it too pow'ful hot waitin' here till we got +round to ye.” + +There was no doubt it was very hot; the radiation from the baking +roadway beating up under her parasol, and pricking her cheekbones and +eyeballs like needles. She gave a fastidious little shudder, furled her +parasol, gathered her skirts still tighter, faced about, and said, “Go +on, then.” The man slipped backwards into the ranks of stalks, parting +them with one hand, and holding out the other as if to lead her. But +she evaded the invitation by holding her tightly-drawn skirt with both +hands, and bending her head forward as if she had not noticed it. The +next moment the road, and even the whole outer world, disappeared behind +them, and they seemed floating in a choking green translucent mist. + +But the effect was only momentary; a few steps further she found that +she could walk with little difficulty between the ranks of stalks, which +were regularly spaced, and the resemblance now changed to that of a long +pillared conservatory of greenish glass, that touched all objects with +its pervading hue. She also found that the close air above her head +was continually freshened by the interchange of currents of lower +temperature from below,--as if the whole vast field had a circulation of +its own,--and that the adobe beneath her feet was gratefully cool to +her tread. There was no dust, as he had said; what had at first half +suffocated her seemed to be some stimulating aroma of creation that +filled the narrow green aisles, and now imparted a strange vigor and +excitement to her as she walked along. Meantime her guide was not +conversationally idle. Now, no doubt, she had never seen anything like +this before? It was ordinary wheat, only it was grown on adobe soil--the +richest in the valley. These stalks, she could see herself, were ten and +twelve feet high. That was the trouble, they all ran too much to stalk, +though the grain yield was “suthen' pow'ful.” She could tell that to +her friends, for he reckoned she was the only young lady that had ever +walked under such a growth. Perhaps she was new to Californy? He thought +so from the start. Well, this was Californy, and this was not the least +of the ways it could “lay over” every other country on God's yearth. +Many folks thought it was the gold and the climate, but she could see +for herself what it could do with wheat. He wondered if her brother had +ever told, her of it? No, the stranger wasn't her brother. Nor cousin, +nor company? No; only the hired driver from a San Jose hotel, who was +takin' her over to Major Randolph's. Yes, he knew the old major; the +ranch was a pretty place, nigh unto three miles further on. Now that he +knew the driver was no relation of hers he didn't mind telling her that +the buggy was a “rather old consarn,” and the driver didn't know his +business. Yes, it might be fixed up so as to take her over to the +major's; there was one of their own men--a young fellow--who could do +anything that COULD be done with wood and iron,--a reg'lar genius!--and +HE'D tackle it. It might take an hour, but she'd find it quite cool +waiting in the shanty. It was a rough place, for they only camped out +there during the season to look after the crop, and lived at their own +homes the rest of the time. Was she going to stay long at the major's? +He noticed she had not brought her trunk with her. Had she known the +major's wife long? Perhaps she thought of settling in the neighborhood? + +All this naive, good-humored questioning--so often cruelly misunderstood +as mere vulgar curiosity, but as often the courteous instinct of simple +unaffected people to entertain the stranger by inviting him to talk of +what concerns himself rather than their own selves--was nevertheless, +I fear, met only by monosyllables from the young lady or an impatient +question in return. She scarcely raised her eyes to the broad +jean-shirted back that preceded her through the grain until the +man abruptly ceased talking, and his manner, without losing its +half-paternal courtesy, became graver. She was beginning to be conscious +of her incivility, and was trying to think of something to say, when +he exclaimed with a slight air of relief, “Here we are!” and the shanty +suddenly appeared before them. + +It certainly was very rough--a mere shell of unpainted boards that +scarcely rose above the level of the surrounding grain, and a few yards +distant was invisible. Its slightly sloping roof, already warped and +shrunken into long fissures that permitted glimpses of the steel-blue +sky above, was evidently intended only as a shelter from the cloudless +sun in those two months of rainless days and dewless nights when it was +inhabited. Through the open doors and windows she could see a row of +“bunks,” or rude sleeping berths against the walls, furnished with +coarse mattresses and blankets. As the young girl halted, the man +with an instinct of delicacy hurried forward, entered the shanty, and +dragging a rude bench to the doorway, placed it so that she could sit +beneath the shade of the roof, yet with her back to these domestic +revelations. Two or three men, who had been apparently lounging there, +rose quietly, and unobtrusively withdrew. Her guide brought her a tin +cup of deliciously cool water, exchanged a few hurried words with his +companions, and then disappeared with them, leaving her alone. + +Her first sense of relief from their company was, I fear, stronger than +any other feeling. After a hurried glance around the deserted apartment, +she arose, shook out her dress and mantle, and then going into the +darkest corner supported herself with one hand against the wall while +with the other she drew off, one by one, her slippers from her slim, +striped-stockinged feet, shook and blew out the dust that had penetrated +within, and put them on again. Then, perceiving a triangular fragment +of looking-glass nailed against the wall, she settled the strings of her +bonnet by the aid of its reflection, patted the fringe of brown hair on +her forehead with her separated five fingers as if playing an imaginary +tune on her brow, and came back with maidenly abstraction to the +doorway. + +Everything was quiet, and her seclusion seemed unbroken. A smile played +for an instant in the soft shadows of her eyes and mouth as she recalled +the abrupt withdrawal of the men. Then her mouth straightened and her +brows slightly bent. It was certainly very unmannerly in them to go off +in that way. “Good heavens! couldn't they have stayed around without +talking? Surely it didn't require four men to go and bring up that +wagon!” She picked up her parasol from the bench with an impatient +little jerk. Then she held out her ungloved hand into the hot sunshine +beyond the door with the gesture she would have used had it been +raining, and withdrew it as quickly--her hand quite scorched in +the burning rays. Nevertheless, after another impatient pause she +desperately put up her parasol and stepped from the shanty. + +Presently she was conscious of a faint sound of hammering not far away. +Perhaps there was another shed, but hidden, like everything else, in +this monotonous, ridiculous grain. Some stalks, however, were trodden +down and broken around the shanty; she could move more easily and see +where she was going. To her delight, a few steps further brought her +into a current of the trade-wind and a cooler atmosphere. And a short +distance beyond them, certainly, was the shed from which the hammering +proceeded. She approached it boldly. + +It was simply a roof upheld by rude uprights and crossbeams, and open +to the breeze that swept through it. At one end was a small blacksmith's +forge, some machinery, and what appeared to be part of a small +steam-engine. Midway of the shed was a closet or cupboard fastened with +a large padlock. Occupying its whole length on the other side was a +work-bench, and at the further end stood the workman she had heard. + +He was apparently only a year or two older than herself, and clad in +blue jean overalls, blackened and smeared with oil and coal-dust. Even +his youthful face, which he turned towards her, had a black smudge +running across it and almost obliterating a small auburn moustache. The +look of surprise that he gave her, however, quickly passed; he remained +patiently and in a half-preoccupied way, holding his hammer in his +hand, as she advanced. This was evidently the young fellow who could “do +anything that could be done with wood and iron.” + +She was very sorry to disturb him, but could he tell her how long it +would be before the wagon could be brought up and mended? He could not +say that until he himself saw what was to be done; if it was only a +matter of the wheel he could fix it up in a few moments; if, as he had +been told, it was a case of twisted or bent axle, it would take longer, +but it would be here very soon. Ah, then, would he let her wait here, as +she was very anxious to know at once, and it was much cooler than in the +shed? Certainly; he would go over and bring her a bench. But here she +begged he wouldn't trouble himself, she could sit anywhere comfortably. + +The lower end of the work-bench was covered with clean and odorous +shavings; she lightly brushed them aside and, with a youthful movement, +swung herself to a seat upon it, supporting herself on one hand as +she leaned towards him. She could thus see that his eyes were of a +light-yellowish brown, like clarified honey, with a singular look of +clear concentration in them, which, however, was the same whether turned +upon his work, the surrounding grain, or upon her. This, and his sublime +unconsciousness of the smudge across his face and his blackened hands, +made her wonder if the man who could do everything with wood and iron +was above doing anything with water. She had half a mind to tell him of +it, particularly as she noticed also that his throat below the line +of sunburn disclosed by his open collar was quite white, and his grimy +hands well made. She was wondering whether he would be affronted if she +said in her politest way, “I beg your pardon, but do you know you +have quite accidentally got something on your face,” and offer her +handkerchief, which, of course, he would decline, when her eye fell on +the steam-engine. + +“How odd! Do you use that on the farm?” + +“No,”--he smiled here, the smudge accenting it and setting off his white +teeth in a Christy Minstrel fashion that exasperated her--no, although +it COULD be used, and had been. But it was his first effort, made two +years ago, when he was younger and more inexperienced. It was a rather +rough thing, she could see--but he had to make it at odd times with +what iron he could pick up or pay for, and at different forges where he +worked. + +She begged his pardon--where-- + +WHERE HE WORKED. + +Ah, then he was the machinist or engineer here? + +No, he worked here just like the others, only he was allowed to put up a +forge while the grain was green, and have his bench in consideration of +the odd jobs he could do in the way of mending tools, etc. There was +a heap of mending and welding to do--she had no idea how quickly +agricultural machines got out of order! He had done much of his work on +the steam-engine on moonlit nights. Yes; she had no idea how perfectly +clear and light it was here in the valley on such nights; although of +course the shadows were very dark, and when he dropped a screw or a nut +it was difficult to find. He had worked there because it saved time +and because it didn't cost anything, and he had nobody to look on or +interfere with him. No, it was not lonely; the coyotes and wild cats +sometimes came very near, but were always more surprised and frightened +than he was; and once a horseman who had strayed off the distant road +yonder mistook him for an animal and shot at him twice. + +He told all this with such freedom from embarrassment and with such +apparent unconsciousness of the blue eyes that were following him, and +the light, graceful figure,--which was so near his own that in some +of his gestures his grimy hands almost touched its delicate +garments,--that, accustomed as she was to a certain masculine aberration +in her presence, she was greatly amused by his naive acceptance of her +as an equal. Suddenly, looking frankly in her face, he said: + +“I'll show you a secret, if you care to see it.” + +Nothing would please her more. + +He glanced hurriedly around, took a key from his pocket, and unlocked +the padlock that secured the closet she had noticed. Then, reaching +within, with infinite care he brought out a small mechanical model. + +“There's an invention of my own. A reaper and thresher combined. I'm +going to have it patented and have a big one made from this model. This +will work, as you see.” + +He then explained to her with great precision how as it moved over the +field the double operation was performed by the same motive power. That +it would be a saving of a certain amount of labor and time which she +could not remember. She did not understand a word of his explanations; +she saw only a clean and pretty but complicated toy that under the +manipulation of his grimy fingers rattled a number of frail-like staves +and worked a number of wheels and drums, yet there was no indication of +her ignorance in her sparkling eyes and smiling, breathless attitude. +Perhaps she was interested in his own absorption; the revelation of +his preoccupation with this model struck her as if he had made her +a confidante of some boyish passion for one of her own sex, and she +regarded him with the same sympathizing superiority. + +“You will make a fortune out of it,” she said pleasantly. + +Well, he might make enough to be able to go on with some other +inventions he had in his mind. They cost money and time, no matter how +careful one was. + +This was another interesting revelation to the young girl. He not only +did not seem to care for the profit his devotion brought him, but even +his one beloved ideal might be displaced by another. So like a man, +after all! + +Her reflections were broken upon by the sound of voices. The young man +carefully replaced the model in its closet with a parting glance as if +he was closing a shrine, and said, “There comes the wagon.” The young +girl turned to face the men who were dragging it from the road, with +the half-complacent air of having been victorious over their late rude +abandonment, but they did not seem to notice it or to be surprised +at her companion, who quickly stepped forward and examined the broken +vehicle with workmanlike deliberation. + +“I hope you will be able to do something with it,” she said sweetly, +appealing directly to him. “I should thank you SO MUCH.” + +He did not reply. Presently he looked up to the man who had brought her +to the shanty, and said, “The axle's strained, but it's safe for five or +six miles more of this road. I'll put the wheel on easily.” He paused, +and without glancing at her, continued, “You might send her on by the +cart.” + +“Pray don't trouble yourselves,” interrupted the young girl, with a pink +uprising in her cheeks; “I shall be quite satisfied with the buggy as +it stands. Send her on in the cart, indeed! Really, they were a rude +set--ALL of them.” + +Without taking the slightest notice of her remark, the man replied +gravely to the young mechanic, “Yes, but we'll be wanting the cart +before it can get back from taking her.” + +“Her” again. “I assure you the buggy will serve perfectly well--if +this--gentleman--will only be kind enough to put on the wheel again,” + she returned hotly. + +The young mechanic at once set to work. The young girl walked apart +silently until the wheel was restored to its axle. But to her surprise a +different horse was led forward to be harnessed. + +“We thought your horse wasn't safe in case of another accident,” said +the first man, with the same smileless consideration. “This one wouldn't +cut up if he was harnessed to an earthquake or a worse driver than +you've got.” + +It occurred to her instantly that the more obvious remedy of sending +another driver had been already discussed and rejected by them. Yet, +when her own driver appeared a moment afterwards, she ascended to her +seat with some dignity and a slight increase of color. + +“I am very much obliged to you all,” she said, without glancing at the +young inventor. + +“Don't mention it, miss.” + +“Good afternoon.” + +“Good afternoon.” They all took off their hats with the same formal +gravity as the horse moved forward, but turned back to their work again +before she was out of the field. + + +CHAPTER II + + +The ranch of Major Randolph lay on a rich falda of the Coast Range, and +overlooked the great wheat plains that the young girl had just left. +The house of wood and adobe, buried to its first story in rose-trees +and passion vines, was large and commodious. Yet it contained only the +major, his wife, her son and daughter, and the few occasional visitors +from San Francisco whom he entertained, and she tolerated. + +For the major's household was not entirely harmonious. While a young +infantry subaltern at a Gulf station, he had been attracted by the +piquant foreign accent and dramatic gestures of a French Creole widow, +and--believing them, in the first flush of his youthful passion more +than an offset to the encumbrance of her two children who, with the +memory of various marital infidelities were all her late husband had +left her--had proposed, been accepted, and promptly married to her. +Before he obtained his captaincy, she had partly lost her accent, and +those dramatic gestures, which had accented the passion of their brief +courtship, began to intensify domestic altercation and the bursts +of idle jealousy to which she was subject. Whether she was revenging +herself on her second husband for the faults of her first is not known, +but it was certain that she brought an unhallowed knowledge of the +weaknesses, cheap cynicism, and vanity of a foreign predecessor, to sit +in judgment upon the simple-minded and chivalrous American soldier who +had succeeded him, and who was, in fact, the most loyal of husbands. The +natural result of her skepticism was an espionage and criticism of the +wives of the major's brother officers that compelled a frequent change +of quarters. When to this was finally added a racial divergence and +antipathy, the public disparagement of the customs and education of her +female colleagues, and the sudden insistence of a foreign and French +dominance in her household beyond any ordinary Creole justification, +Randolph, presumably to avoid later international complications, +resigned while he was as yet a major. Luckily his latest banishment to +an extreme Western outpost had placed him in California during the flood +of a speculation epoch. He purchased a valuable Spanish grant to three +leagues of land for little over a three months' pay. Following that +yearning which compels retired ship-captains and rovers of all degrees +to buy a farm in their old days, the major, professionally and socially +inured to border strife, sought surcease and Arcadian repose in +ranching. + +It was here that Mrs. Randolph, late relict of the late Scipion +L'Hommadieu, devoted herself to bringing up her children after the +extremest of French methods, and in resurrecting a “de” from her own +family to give a distinct and aristocratic character to their name. The +“de Fontanges l'Hommadieu” were, however, only known to their neighbors, +after the Western fashion, by their stepfather's name,--when they were +known at all--which was seldom. For the boy was unpleasantly conceited +as a precocious worldling, and the girl as unpleasantly complacent in +her role of ingenue. The household was completely dominated by Mrs. +Randolph. A punctilious Catholic, she attended all the functions of the +adjacent mission, and the shadow of a black soutane at twilight gliding +through the wild oat-fields behind the ranch had often been mistaken for +a coyote. The peace-loving major did not object to a piety which, while +it left his own conscience free, imparted a respectable religious air to +his household, and kept him from the equally distasteful approaches of +the Puritanism of his neighbors, and was blissfully unconscious that he +was strengthening the antagonistic foreign element in his family with an +alien church. + +Meantime, as the repaired buggy was slowly making its way towards his +house, Major Randolph entered his wife's boudoir with a letter which the +San Francisco post had just brought him. A look of embarrassment on his +good-humored face strengthened the hard lines of hers; she felt some +momentary weakness of her natural enemy, and prepared to give battle. + +“I'm afraid here's something of a muddle, Josephine,” he began with a +deprecating smile. “Mallory, who was coming down here with his daughter, +you know”-- + +“This is the first intimation I have had that anything has been settled +upon,” interrupted the lady, with appalling deliberation. + +“However, my dear, you know I told you last week that he thought of +bringing her here while he went South on business. You know, being a +widower, he has no one to leave her with.” + +“And I suppose it is the American fashion to intrust one's daughters to +any old boon companions?” + +“Mallory is an old friend,” interrupted the major, impatiently. “He +knows I'm married, and although he has never seen YOU, he is quite +willing to leave his daughter here.” + +“Thank you!” + +“Come, you know what I mean. The man naturally believes that my wife +will be a proper chaperone for his daughter. But that is not the present +question. He intended to call here; I expected to take you over to San +Jose to see her and all that, you know; but the fact of it is--that +is--it seems from this letter that--he's been called away sooner than he +expected, and that--well--hang it! the girl is actually on her way here +now.” + +“Alone?” + +“I suppose so. You know one thinks nothing of that here.” + +“Or any other propriety, for that matter.” + +“For heaven's sake, Josephine, don't be ridiculous! Of course it's +stupid her coming in this way, and Mallory ought to have brought +her--but she's coming, and we must receive her. By Jove! Here she is +now!” he added, starting up after a hurried glance through the window. +“But what kind of a d----d turn-out is that, anyhow?” + +It certainly was an odd-looking conveyance that had entered the gates, +and was now slowly coming up the drive towards the house. A large +draught horse harnessed to a dust-covered buggy, whose strained +fore-axle, bent by the last mile of heavy road, had slanted the tops +of the fore-wheels towards each other at an alarming angle. The light, +graceful dress and elegant parasol of the young girl, who occupied half +of its single seat, looked ludicrously pronounced by the side of the +slouching figure and grimy duster of the driver, who occupied the other +half. + +Mrs. Randolph gave a gritty laugh. “I thought you said she was alone. Is +that an escort she has picked up, American fashion, on the road?” + +“That's her hired driver, no doubt. Hang it! she can't drive here by +herself,” retorted the major, impatiently, hurrying to the door and down +the staircase. But he was instantly followed by his wife. She had no +idea of permitting a possible understanding to be exchanged in their +first greeting. The late M. l'Hommadieu had been able to impart a whole +plan of intrigue in a single word and glance. + +Happily, Rose Mallory, already in the hall, in a few words detailed the +accident that had befallen her, to the honest sympathy of the major and +the coldly-polite concern of Mrs. Randolph, who, in deliberately chosen +sentences, managed to convey to the young girl the conviction that +accidents of any kind to young ladies were to be regarded as only +a shade removed from indiscretions. Rose was impressed, and even +flattered, by the fastidiousness of this foreign-appearing woman, and +after the fashion of youthful natures, accorded to her the respect due +to recognized authority. When to this authority, which was evident, she +added a depreciation of the major, I fear that some common instinct +of feminine tyranny responded in Rose's breast, and that on the very +threshold of the honest soldier's home she tacitly agreed with the wife +to look down upon him. Mrs. Randolph departed to inform her son and +daughter of their guest's arrival. As a matter of fact, however, they +had already observed her approach to the house through the slits of +their drawn window-blinds, and those even narrower prejudices and +limited comprehensions which their education had fostered. The girl, +Adele, had only grasped the fact that Rose had come to their house in +fine clothes, alone with a man, in a broken-down vehicle, and was moved +to easy mirth and righteous wonder. The young man, Emile, had agreed +with her, with the mental reservation that the guest was pretty, and +must eventually fall in love with him. They both, however, welcomed her +with a trained politeness and a superficial attention that, while the +indifference of her own countrymen in the wheat-field was still fresh in +her recollection, struck her with grateful contrast; the major's quiet +and unobtrusive kindliness naturally made less impression, or was +accepted as a matter of course. + +“Well,” said the major, cheerfully but tentatively, to his wife when +they were alone again, “she seems a nice girl, after all; and a good +deal of pluck and character, by Jove! to push on in that broken buggy +rather than linger or come in a farm cart, eh?” + +“She was alone in that wheat-field,” said Mrs. Randolph, with grim +deliberation, “for half an hour; she confesses it herself--TALKING WITH +A YOUNG MAN!” + +“Yes, but the others had gone for the buggy. And, in the name of Heaven, +what would you have her do--hide herself in the grain?” said the major, +desperately. “Besides,” he added, with a recklessness he afterwards +regretted, “that mechanical chap they've got there is really intelligent +and worth talking to.” + +“I have no doubt SHE thought so,” said Mrs. Randolph, with a mirthless +smile. “In fact, I have observed that the American freedom generally +means doing what you WANT to do. Indeed, I wonder she didn't bring him +with her! Only I beg, major, that you will not again, in the presence +of my daughter,--and I may even say, of my son,--talk lightly of the +solitary meetings of young ladies with mechanics, even though their +faces were smutty, and their clothes covered with oil.” + +The major here muttered something about there being less danger in a +young lady listening to the intelligence of a coarsely-dressed laborer +than to the compliments of a rose-scented fop, but Mrs. Randolph walked +out of the room before he finished the evident platitude. + +That night Rose Mallory retired to her room in a state of +sell-satisfaction that she even felt was to a certain extent a virtue. +She was delighted with her reception and with her hostess and family. +It was strange her father had not spoken more of MRS. Randolph, who was +clearly the superior of his old friend. What fine manners they all had, +so different from other people she had known! There was quite an Old +World civilization about them; really, it was like going abroad! She +would make the most of her opportunity and profit by her visit. She +would begin by improving her French; they spoke it perfectly, and with +such a pure accent. She would correct certain errors she was conscious +of in her own manners, and copy Mrs. Randolph as much as possible. +Certainly, there was a great deal to be said of Mrs. Randolph's way +of looking at things. Now she thought of it calmly, there WAS too much +informality and freedom in American ways! There was not enough respect +due to position and circumstances. Take those men in the wheat-field, +for example. Yet here she found it difficult to formulate an indictment +against them for “freedom.” She would like to go there some day with the +Randolphs and let them see what company manners were! She was thoroughly +convinced now that her father had done wrong in sending her alone; it +certainly was most disrespectful to them and careless of him (she had +quite forgotten that she had herself proposed to her father to go alone +rather than wait at the hotel), and she must have looked very ridiculous +in her fine clothes and the broken-down buggy. When her trunk came by +express to-morrow she would look out something more sober. She must +remember that she was in a Catholic and religious household now. Ah, +yes! how very fine it was to see that priest at dinner in his soutane, +sitting down like one of the family, and making them all seem like a +picture of some historical and aristocratic romance! And then they were +actually “de Fontanges l'Hommadieu.” How different he was from that +shabby Methodist minister who used to come to see her father in a black +cravat with a hideous bow! Really there was something to say for a +religion that contained so much picturesque refinement; and for her +part--but that will do. I beg to say that I am not writing of any +particular snob or feminine monstrosity, but of a very charming +creature, who was quite able to say her prayers afterwards like a good +girl, and lay her pretty cheek upon her pillow without a blush. + +She opened her window and looked out. The moon, a great silver dome, +was uplifting itself from a bluish-gray level, which she knew was the +distant plain of wheat. Somewhere in its midst appeared a dull star, +at times brightening as if blown upon or drawn upwards in a comet-like +trail. By some odd instinct she felt that it was the solitary forge +of the young inventor, and pictured him standing before it with his +abstracted hazel eyes and a face more begrimed in the moonlight than +ever. When DID he wash himself? Perhaps not until Sunday. How lonely it +must be out there! She slightly shivered and turned from the window. +As she did so, it seemed to her that something knocked against her door +from without. Opening it quickly, she was almost certain that the sound +of a rustling skirt retreated along the passage. It was very late; +perhaps she had disturbed the house by shutting her window. No doubt +it was the motherly interest of Mrs. Randolph that impelled her to +come softly and look after her; and for once her simple surmises were +correct. For not only the inspecting eyes of her hostess, but the +amatory glances of the youthful Emile, had been fastened upon her window +until the light disappeared, and even the Holy Mission Church of San +Jose had assured itself of the dear child's safety with a large and +supple ear at her keyhole. + +The next morning Major Randolph took her with Adele in a light cariole +over the ranch. Although his domain was nearly as large as the adjoining +wheat plain, it was not, like that, monopolized by one enormous +characteristic yield, but embraced a more diversified product. There +were acres and acres of potatoes in rows of endless and varying +succession; there were miles of wild oats and barley, which overtopped +them as they drove in narrow lanes of dry and dusty monotony; there were +orchards of pears, apricots, peaches, and nectarines, and vineyards of +grapes, so comparatively dwarfed in height that they scarcely reached +to the level of their eyes, yet laden and breaking beneath the weight of +their ludicrously disproportionate fruit. What seemed to be a vast green +plateau covered with tiny patches, that headed the northern edge of +the prospect, was an enormous bed of strawberry plants. But everywhere, +crossing the track, bounding the fields, orchards, and vineyards, +intersecting the paths of the whole domain, were narrow irrigating ducts +and channels of running water. + +“Those,” said the major, poetically, “are the veins and arteries of +the ranch. Come with me now, and I'll show you its pulsating heart.” + Descending from the wagon into pedestrian prose again, he led Rose a +hundred yards further to a shed that covered a wonderful artesian well. +In the centre of a basin a column of water rose regularly with the even +flow and volume of a brook. “It is one of the largest in the State,” + said the major, “and is the life of all that grows here during six +months of the year.” + +Pleased as the young girl was with those evidences of the prosperity and +position of her host, she was struck, however, with the fact that the +farm-laborers, wine-growers, nurserymen, and all field hands scattered +on the vast estate were apparently of the same independent, unpastoral, +and unprofessional character as the men of the wheat-field. There were +no cottages or farm buildings that she could see, nor any apparent +connection between the household and the estate; far from suggesting +tenantry or retainers, the men who were working in the fields glanced +at them as they passed with the indifference of strangers, or replied to +the major's greetings or questionings with perfect equality of manner, +or even businesslike reserve and caution. Her host explained that the +ranch was worked by a company “on shares;” that those laborers were, in +fact, the bulk of the company; and that he, the major, only furnished +the land, the seed, and the implements. “That man who was driving the +long roller, and with whom you were indignant because he wouldn't get +out of our way, is the president of the company.” + +“That needn't make him so uncivil,” said Rose, poutingly, “for if it +comes to that you're the LANDLORD,” she added triumphantly. + +“No,” said the major, good-humoredly. “I am simply the man driving the +lighter and more easily-managed team for pleasure, and he's the man +driving the heavier and more difficult machine for work. It's for me to +get out of his way; and looked at in the light of my being THE LANDLORD +it is still worse, for as we're working 'on shares' I'm interrupting HIS +work, and reducing HIS profits merely because I choose to sacrifice my +own.” + +I need not say that those atrociously leveling sentiments were received +by the young ladies with that feminine scorn which is only qualified +by misconception. Rose, who, under the influence of her hostess, had a +vague impression that they sounded something like the French Revolution, +and that Adele must feel like the Princess Elizabeth, rushed to her +relief like a good girl. “But, major, now, YOU'RE a gentleman, and if +YOU had been driving that roller, you know you would have turned out for +us.” + +“I don't know about that,” said the major, mischievously; “but if I +had, I should have known that the other fellow who accepted it wasn't a +gentleman.” + +But Rose, having sufficiently shown her partisanship in the discussion, +after the feminine fashion, did not care particularly for the logical +result. After a moment's silence she resumed: “And the wheat ranch +below--is that carried on in the same way?” + +“Yes. But their landlord is a bank, who advances not only the land, but +the money to work it, and doesn't ride around in a buggy with a couple +of charmingly distracting young ladies.” + +“And do they all share alike?” continued Rose, ignoring the pleasantry, +“big and little--that young inventor with the rest?” + +She stopped. She felt the ingenue's usually complacent eyes suddenly +fixed upon her with an unhallowed precocity, and as quickly withdrawn. +Without knowing why, she felt embarrassed, and changed the subject. + +The next day they drove to the Convent of Santa Clara and the Mission +College of San Jose. Their welcome at both places seemed to Rose to be a +mingling of caste greeting and spiritual zeal, and the austere seclusion +and reserve of those cloisters repeated that suggestion of an Old World +civilization that had already fascinated the young Western girl. They +made other excursions in the vicinity, but did not extend it to a visit +to their few neighbors. With their reserved and exclusive ideas this +fact did not strike Rose as peculiar, but on a later shopping +expedition to the town of San Jose, a certain reticence and aggressive +sensitiveness on the part of the shopkeepers and tradespeople towards +the Randolphs produced an unpleasant impression on her mind. She could +not help noticing, too, that after the first stare of astonishment which +greeted her appearance with her hostess, she herself was included in +the antagonism. With her youthful prepossession for her friends, this +distinction she regarded as flattering and aristocratic, and I fear she +accented it still more by discussing with Mrs. Randolph the merits +of the shopkeepers' wares in schoolgirl French before them. She was +unfortunate enough, however, to do this in the shop of a polyglot +German. + +“Oxcoos me, mees,” he said gravely,--“but dot lady speeks Engeleesh so +goot mit yourselluf, and ven you dells to her dot silk is hallf gotton +in English, she onderstand you mooch better, and it don't make nodings +to me.” The laugh which would have followed from her own countrywomen +did not, however, break upon the trained faces of the “de Fontanges +l'Hommadieus,” yet while Rose would have joined in it, albeit a +little ruefully, she felt for the first time mortified at their civil +insincerity. + +At the end of two weeks, Major Randolph received a letter from Mr. +Mallory. When he had read it, he turned to his wife: “He thanks you,” he +said, “for your kindness to his daughter, and explains that his sudden +departure was owing to the necessity of his taking advantage of a great +opportunity for speculation that had offered.” As Mrs. Randolph turned +away with a slight shrug of the shoulders, the major continued: “But you +haven't heard all! That opportunity was the securing of a half interest +in a cinnabar lode in Sonora, which has already gone up a hundred +thousand dollars in his hands! By Jove! a man can afford to drop a +little social ceremony on those terms--eh, Josephine?” he concluded with +a triumphant chuckle. + +“He's as likely to lose his hundred thousand to-morrow, while his +manners will remain,” said Mrs. Randolph. “I've no faith in these sudden +California fortunes!” + +“You're wrong as regards Mallory, for he's as careful as he is lucky. He +don't throw money away for appearance sake, or he'd have a rich home for +that daughter. He could afford it.” + +Mrs. Randolph was silent. “She is his only daughter, I believe,” she +continued presently. + +“Yes--he has no other kith or kin,” returned the major. + +“She seems to be very much impressed by Emile,” said Mrs. Randolph. + +Major Randolph faced his wife quickly. + +“In the name of all that's ridiculous, my dear, you are not already +thinking of”--he gasped. + +“I should be very loth to give MY sanction to anything of the kind, +knowing the difference of her birth, education, and religion,--although +the latter I believe she would readily change,” said Mrs. Randolph, +severely. “But when you speak of MY already thinking of 'such things,' +do you suppose that your friend, Mr. Mallory, didn't consider all that +when he sent that girl here?” + +“Never,” said the major, vehemently, “and if it entered his head now, by +Jove, he'd take her away to-morrow--always supposing I didn't anticipate +him by sending her off myself.” + +Mrs. Randolph uttered her mirthless laugh. “And you suppose the girl +would go? Really, major, you don't seem to understand this boasted +liberty of your own countrywoman. What does she care for her father's +control? Why, she'd make him do just what SHE wanted. But,” she added +with an expression of dignity, “perhaps we had better not discuss this +until we know something of Emile's feelings in the matter. That is the +only question that concerns us.” With this she swept out of the room, +leaving the major at first speechless with honest indignation, and +then after the fashion of all guileless natures, a little uneasy and +suspicious of his own guilelessness. For a day or two after, he found +himself, not without a sensation of meanness, watching Rose when in +Emile's presence, but he could distinguish nothing more than the frank +satisfaction she showed equally to the others. Yet he found himself +regretting even that, so subtle was the contagion of his wife's +suspicions. + + +CHAPTER III + + +It had been a warm morning; an unusual mist, which the sun had not +dissipated, had crept on from the great grain-fields beyond, and hung +around the house charged with a dry, dusty closeness that seemed to be +quite independent of the sun's rays, and more like a heated exhalation +or emanation of the soil itself. In its acrid irritation Rose thought +she could detect the breath of the wheat as on the day she had +plunged into its pale, green shadows. By the afternoon this mist had +disappeared, apparently in the same mysterious manner, but not scattered +by the usual trade-wind, which--another unusual circumstance--that day +was not forthcoming. There was a breathlessness in the air like the +hush of listening expectancy, which filled the young girl with a vague +restlessness, and seemed to even affect a scattered company of crows +in the field beyond the house, which rose suddenly with startled but +aimless wings, and then dropped vacantly among the grain again. + +Major Randolph was inspecting a distant part of the ranch, Mrs. Randolph +was presumably engaged in her boudoir, and Rose was sitting between +Adele and Emile before the piano in the drawing-room, listlessly +turning over the leaves of some music. There had been an odd mingling of +eagerness and abstraction in the usual attentions of the young man that +morning, and a certain nervous affectation in his manner of twisting the +ends of a small black moustache, which resembled his mother's eyebrows, +that had affected Rose with a half-amused, half-uneasy consciousness, +but which she had, however, referred to the restlessness produced by the +weather. It occurred to her also that the vacuously amiable Adele had +once or twice regarded her with the same precocious, childlike curiosity +and infantine cunning she had once before exhibited. All this did not, +however, abate her admiration for both--perhaps particularly for this +picturesquely gentlemanly young fellow, with his gentle audacities +of compliment, his caressing attentions, and his unfailing and equal +address. And when, discovering that she had mislaid her fan for the +fifth time that morning, he started up with equal and undiminished fire +to go again and fetch it, the look of grateful pleasure and pleading +perplexity in her pretty eyes might have turned a less conceited brain +than his. + +“But you don't know where it is!” + +“I shall find it by instinct.” + +“You are spoiling me--you two.” The parenthesis was a hesitating +addition, but she continued, with fresh sincerity, “I shall be quite +helpless when I leave here--if I am ever able to go by myself.” + +“Don't ever go, then.” + +“But just now I want my fan; it is so close everywhere to-day.” + +“I fly, mademoiselle.” + +He started to the door. + +She called after him:-- + +“Let me help your instinct, then; I had it last in the major's study.” + +“That was where I was going.” + +He disappeared. Rose got up and moved uneasily towards the window. “How +queer and quiet it looks outside. It's really too bad that he should be +sent after that fan again. He'll never find it.” She resumed her place +at the piano, Adele following her with round, expectant eyes. After a +pause she started up again. “I'll go and fetch it myself,” she said, +with a half-embarrassed laugh, and ran to the door. + +Scarcely understanding her own nervousness, but finding relief in rapid +movement, Rose flew lightly up the staircase. The major's study, where +she had been writing letters, during his absence, that morning, was at +the further end of a long passage, and near her own bedroom, the door of +which, as she passed, she noticed, half-abstractedly, was open, but she +continued on and hurriedly entered the study. At the same moment Emile, +with a smile on his face, turned towards her with the fan in his hand. + +“Oh, you've found it,” she said, with nervous eagerness. “I was so +afraid you'd have all your trouble for nothing.” + +She extended her hand, with a half-breathless smile, for the fan, but he +caught her outstretched little palm in his own, and held it. + +“Ah! but you are not going to leave us, are you?” + +In a flash of consciousness she understood him, and, as it seemed to +her, her own nervousness, and all, and everything. And with it came a +swift appreciation of all it meant to her and her future. To be +always with him and like him, a part of this refined and restful +seclusion--akin to all that had so attracted her in this house; not to +be obliged to educate herself up to it, but to be in it on equal terms +at once; to know that it was no wild, foolish youthful fancy, but a +wise, thoughtful, and prudent resolve, that her father would understand +and her friends respect: these were the thoughts that crowded quickly +upon her, more like an explanation of her feelings than a revelation, in +the brief second that he held her hand. It was not, perhaps, love as +she had dreamed it, and even BELIEVED it, before. She was not ashamed +or embarrassed; she even felt, with a slight pride, that she was not +blushing. She raised her eyes frankly. What she WOULD have said she did +not know, for the door, which he had closed behind her, began to shake +violently. + +It was not the fear of some angry intrusion or interference surely that +made him drop her hand instantly. It was not--her second thought--the +idea that some one had fallen in a fit against it that blanched his face +with abject and unreasoning terror! It must have been something else +that caused him to utter an inarticulate cry and dash out of the room +and down the stairs like a madman! What had happened? + +In her own self-possession she knew that all this was passing rapidly, +that it was not the door now that was still shaking, for it had swung +almost shut again--but it was the windows, the book-shelves, the floor +beneath her feet, that were all shaking. She heard a hurried scrambling, +the trampling of feet below, and the quick rustling of a skirt in the +passage, as if some one had precipitately fled from her room. Yet no one +had called to her--even HE had said nothing. Whatever had happened they +clearly had not cared for her to know. + +The jarring and rattling ceased as suddenly, but the house seemed silent +and empty. She moved to the door, which had now swung open a few inches, +but to her astonishment it was fixed in that position, and she could not +pass. As yet she had been free from any personal fear, and even now it +was with a half smile at her imprisonment in the major's study, that she +rang the bell and turned to the window. A man, whom she recognized +as one of the ranch laborers, was standing a hundred feet away in the +garden, looking curiously at the house. He saw her face as she tried to +raise the sash, uttered an exclamation, and ran forward. But before she +could understand what he said, the sash began to rattle in her hand, the +jarring recommenced, the floor shook beneath her feet, a hideous sound +of grinding seemed to come from the walls, a thin seam of dust-like +smoke broke from the ceiling, and with the noise of falling plaster a +dozen books followed each other from the shelves, in what in the frantic +hurry of that moment seemed a grimly deliberate succession; a picture +hanging against the wall, to her dazed wonder, swung forward, and +appeared to stand at right angles from it; she felt herself reeling +against the furniture; a deadly nausea overtook her; as she glanced +despairingly towards the window, the outlying fields beyond the garden +seemed to be undulating like a sea. For the first time she raised her +voice, not in fear, but in a pathetic little cry of apology for her +awkwardness in tumbling about and not being able to grapple this new +experience, and then she found herself near the door, which had once +more swung free. She grasped it eagerly, and darted out of the study +into the deserted passage. Here some instinct made her follow the line +of the wall, rather than the shaking balusters of the corridor and +staircase, but before she reached the bottom she heard a shout, and +the farm laborer she had seen coming towards her seized her by the arm, +dragged her to the open doorway of the drawing-room, and halted beneath +its arch in the wall. Another thrill, but lighter than before, passed +through the building, then all was still again. + +“It's over; I reckon that's all just now,” said the man, coolly. “It's +quite safe to cut and run for the garden now, through this window.” He +half led, half lifted her through the French window to the veranda and +the ground, and locking her arm in his, ran quickly forward a hundred +feet from the house, stopping at last beneath a large post oak where +there was a rustic seat into which she sank. “You're safe now, I +reckon,” he said grimly. + +She looked towards the house; the sun was shining brightly; a cool +breeze seemed to have sprung up as they ran. She could see a quantity of +rubbish lying on the roof from which a dozen yards of zinc gutter +were perilously hanging; the broken shafts of the further cluster of +chimneys, a pile of bricks scattered upon the ground and among the +battered down beams of the end of the veranda--but that was all. She +lifted her now whitened face to the man, and with the apologetic smile +still lingering on her lips, asked:-- + +“What does it all mean? What has happened?” + +The man stared at her. “D'ye mean to say ye don't know?” + +“How could I? They must have all left the house as soon as it began. I +was talking to--to M. l'Hommadieu, and he suddenly left.” + +The man brought his face angrily down within an inch of her own. “D'ye +mean to say that them d----d French half-breeds stampeded and left yer +there alone?” + +She was still too much stupefied by the reaction to fully comprehend +his meaning, and repeated feebly with her smile still faintly lingering: +“But you don't tell me WHAT it was?” + +“An earthquake,” said the man, roughly, “and if it had lasted ten +seconds longer it would have shook the whole shanty down and left you +under it. Yer kin tell that to them, if they don't know it, but from the +way they made tracks to the fields, I reckon they did. They're coming +now.” + +Without another word he turned away half surlily, half defiantly, +passing scarce fifty yards away Mrs. Randolph and her daughter, who were +hastening towards their guest. + +“Oh, here you are!” said Mrs. Randolph, with the nearest approach to +effusion that Rose had yet seen in her manner. “We were wondering where +you had run to, and were getting quite concerned. Emile was looking for +you everywhere.” + +The recollection of his blank and abject face, his vague outcry and +blind fright, came back to Rose with a shock that sent a flash of +sympathetic shame to her face. The ingenious Adele noticed it, and +dutifully pinched her mother's arm. + +“Emile?” echoed Rose faintly--“looking for ME?” + +Mother and daughter exchanged glances. + +“Yes,” said Mrs. Randolph, cheerfully, “he says he started to run with +you, but you got ahead and slipped out of the garden door--or something +of the kind,” she added, with the air of making light of Rose's girlish +fears. “You know one scarcely knows what one does at such times, and +it must have been frightfully strange to YOU--and he's been quite +distracted, lest you should have wandered away. Adele, run and tell him +Miss Mallory has been here under the oak all the time.” + +Rose started--and then fell hopelessly back in her seat. Perhaps it WAS +true! Perhaps he had not rushed off with that awful face and without a +word. Perhaps she herself had been half-frightened out of her reason. +In the simple, weak kindness of her nature it seemed less dreadful to +believe that the fault was partly her own. + +“And you went back into the house to look for us when all was over,” + said Mrs. Randolph, fixing her black, beady, magnetic eyes on Rose, “and +that stupid yokel Zake brought you out again. He needn't have clutched +your arm so closely, my dear,--I must speak to the major about his +excessive familiarity--but I suppose I shall be told that that is +American freedom. I call it 'a liberty.'” + +It struck Rose that she had not even thanked the man--in the same flash +that she remembered something dreadful that he had said. She covered her +face with her hands and tried to recall herself. + +Mrs. Randolph gently tapped her shoulder with a mixture of maternal +philosophy and discipline, and continued: “Of course, it's an upset--and +you're confused still. That's nothing. They say, dear, it's perfectly +well known that no two people's recollections of these things ever are +the same. It's really ridiculous the contradictory stories one hears. +Isn't it, Emile?” + +Rose felt that the young man had joined them and was looking at her. In +the fear that she should still see some trace of the startled, selfish +animal in his face, she did not dare to raise her eyes to his, but +looked at his mother. Mrs. Randolph was standing then, collected but +impatient. + +“It's all over now,” said Emile, in his usual voice, “and except the +chimneys and some fallen plaster there's really no damage done. But +I'm afraid they have caught it pretty badly at the mission, and at San +Francisco in those tall, flashy, rattle-trap buildings they're putting +up. I've just sent off one of the men for news.” + +Her father was in San Francisco by that time; and she had never thought +of him! In her quick remorse she now forgot all else and rose to her +feet. + +“I must telegraph to my father at once,” she said hurriedly; “he is +there.” + +“You had better wait until the messenger returns and hear his news,” + said Emile. “If the shock was only a slight one in San Francisco, your +father might not understand you, and would be alarmed.” + +She could see his face now--there was no record of the past expression +upon it, but he was watching her eagerly. Mrs. Randolph and Adele had +moved away to speak to the servants. Emile drew nearer. + +“You surely will not desert us now?” he said in a low voice. + +“Please don't,” she said vaguely. “I'm so worried,” and, pushing quickly +past him, she hurriedly rejoined the two women. + +They were superintending the erection of a long tent or marquee in the +garden, hastily extemporized from the awnings of the veranda and other +cloth. Mrs. Randolph explained that, although all danger was over, there +was the possibility of the recurrence of lighter shocks during the day +and night, and that they would all feel much more secure and comfortable +to camp out for the next twenty-four hours in the open air. + +“Only imagine you're picnicking, and you'll enjoy it as most people +usually enjoy those horrid al fresco entertainments. I don't believe +there's the slightest real necessity for it, but,” she added in a lower +voice, “the Irish and Chinese servants are so demoralized now, they +wouldn't stay indoors with us. It's a common practice here, I believe, +for a day or two after the shock, and it gives time to put things right +again and clear up. The old, one-storied, Spanish houses with walls +three feet thick, and built round a courtyard or patio, were much safer. +It's only when the Americans try to improve upon the old order of things +with their pinchbeck shams and stucco that Providence interferes like +this to punish them.” + +It was the fact, however, that Rose was more impressed by what seemed to +her the absolute indifference of Providence in the matter, and the cool +resumption by Nature of her ordinary conditions. The sky above their +heads was as rigidly blue as ever, and as smilingly monotonous; the +distant prospect, with its clear, well-known silhouettes, had not +changed; the crows swung on lazy, deliberate wings over the grain as +before; and the trade-wind was again blowing in its quiet persistency. +And yet she knew that something had happened that would never again make +her enjoyment of the prospect the same--that nothing would ever be as +it was yesterday. I think at first she referred only to the material and +larger phenomena, and did not confound this revelation of the insecurity +of the universe with her experience of man. Yet the fact also remained +that to the conservative, correct, and, as she believed, secure +condition to which she had been approximating, all her relations were +rudely shaken and upset. It really seemed to this simple-minded young +woman that the revolutionary disturbance of settled conditions might +have as Providential an origin as the “Divine Right” of which she had +heard so much. + + +CHAPTER IV + + +In her desire to be alone and to evade the now significant attentions +of Emile, she took advantage of the bustle that followed the hurried +transfer of furniture and articles from the house to escape through the +garden to the outlying fields. Striking into one of the dusty lanes that +she remembered, she wandered on for half an hour until her progress and +meditation were suddenly arrested. She had come upon a long chasm or +crack in the soil, full twenty feet wide and as many in depth, crossing +her path at right angles. She did not remember having seen it before; +the track of wheels went up to its precipitous edge; she could see +the track on the other side, but the hiatus remained, unbridged and +uncovered. It was not there yesterday. She glanced right and left; the +fissure seemed to extend, like a moat or ditch, from the distant road to +the upland between her and the great wheat valley below, from which she +was shut off. An odd sense of being in some way a prisoner confronted +her. She drew back with an impatient start, and perhaps her first real +sense of indignation. A voice behind her, which she at once recognized, +scarcely restored her calmness. + +“You can't get across there, miss.” + +She turned. It was the young inventor from the wheat ranch, on horseback +and with a clean face. He had just ridden out of the grain on the same +side of the chasm as herself. + +“But you seem to have got over,” she said bluntly. + +“Yes, but it was further up the field. I reckoned that the split might +be deeper but not so broad in the rock outcrop over there than in the +adobe here. I found it so and jumped it.” + +He looked as if he might--alert, intelligent, and self-contained. He +lingered a moment, and then continued:-- + +“I'm afraid you must have been badly shaken and a little frightened up +there before the chimneys came down?” + +“No,” she was glad to say briefly, and she believed truthfully, “I wasn't +frightened. I didn't even know it was an earthquake.” + +“Ah!” he reflected, “that was because you were a stranger. It's +odd--they're all like that. I suppose it's because nobody really expects +or believes in the unlooked-for thing, and yet that's the thing that +always happens. And then, of course, that other affair, which really is +serious, startled you the more.” + +She felt herself ridiculously and angrily blushing. “I don't know what +you mean,” she said icily. “What other affair?” + +“Why, the well.” + +“The well?” she repeated vacantly. + +“Yes; the artesian well has stopped. Didn't the major tell you?” + +“No,” said the girl. “He was away; I haven't seen him yet.” + +“Well, the flow of water has ceased completely. That's what I'm here +for. The major sent for me, and I've been to examine it.” + +“And is that stoppage so very important?” she said dubiously. + +It was his turn to look at her wonderingly. + +“If it's LOST entirely, it means ruin for the ranch,” he said sharply. +He wheeled his horse, nodded gravely, and trotted off. + +Major Randolph's figure of the “life-blood of the ranch” flashed across +her suddenly. She knew nothing of irrigation or the costly appliances +by which the Californian agriculturist opposed the long summer droughts. +She only vaguely guessed that the dreadful earthquake had struck at the +prosperity of those people whom only a few hours ago she had been proud +to call her friends. The underlying goodness of her nature was touched. +Should she let a momentary fault--if it were not really, after all, +only a misunderstanding--rise between her and them at such a moment? She +turned and hurried quickly towards the house. + +Hastening onward, she found time, however, to wonder also why +these common men--she now included even the young inventor in that +category--were all so rude and uncivil to HER! She had never before +been treated in this way; she had always been rather embarrassed by the +admiring attentions of young men (clerks and collegians) in her Atlantic +home, and, of professional men (merchants and stockbrokers) in San +Francisco. It was true that they were not as continually devoted to her +and to the nice art and etiquette of pleasing as Emile,--they had other +things to think about, being in business and not being GENTLEMEN,--but +then they were greatly superior to these clowns, who took no notice of +her, and rode off without lingering or formal leave-taking when their +selfish affairs were concluded. It must be the contact of the vulgar +earth--this wretched, cracking, material, and yet ungovernable and +lawless earth--that so depraved them. She felt she would like to say +this to some one--not her father, for he wouldn't listen to her, nor to +the major, who would laughingly argue with her, but to Mrs. Randolph, +who would understand her, and perhaps say it some day in her own +sharp, sneering way to these very clowns. With those gentle sentiments +irradiating her blue eyes, and putting a pink flush upon her fair +cheeks, Rose reached the garden with the intention of rushing +sympathetically into Mrs. Randolph's arms. But it suddenly occurred +to her that she would be obliged to state how she became aware of this +misfortune, and with it came an instinctive aversion to speak of her +meeting with the inventor. She would wait until Mrs. Randolph told her. +But although that lady was engaged in a low-voiced discussion in French +with Emile and Adele, which instantly ceased at her approach, there was +no allusion made to the new calamity. “You need not telegraph to your +father,” she said as Rose approached, “he has already telegraphed to you +for news; as you were out, and the messenger was waiting an answer, we +opened the dispatch, and sent one, telling him that you were all right, +and that he need not hurry here on your account. So you are satisfied, +I hope.” A few hours ago this would have been true, and Rose would have +probably seen in the action of her hostess only a flattering motherly +supervision; there was, in fact, still a lingering trace of trust in her +mind yet she was conscious that she would have preferred to answer the +dispatch herself, and to have let her father come. To a girl brought +up with a belief in the right of individual independence of thought and +action, there was something in Mrs. Randolph's practical ignoring of +that right which startled her in spite of her new conservatism, while, +as the daughter of a business man, her instincts revolted against Mrs. +Randolph's unbusiness-like action with the telegram, however vulgar and +unrefined she may have begun to consider a life of business. The +result was a certain constraint and embarrassment in her manner, which, +however, had the laudable effect of limiting Emile's attention to +significant glances, and was no doubt variously interpreted by the +others. But she satisfied her conscience by determining to make a +confidence of her sympathy to the major on the first opportunity. + +This she presently found when the others were preoccupied; the major +greeting her with a somewhat careworn face, but a voice whose habitual +kindness was unchanged. When he had condoled with her on the terrifying +phenomenon that had marred her visit to the ranch,--and she could not +help impatiently noticing that he too seemed to have accepted his wife's +theory that she had been half deliriously frightened,--he regretted that +her father had not concluded to come down to the ranch, as his practical +advice would have been invaluable in this emergency. She was about to +eagerly explain why, when it occurred to her that Mrs. Randolph had only +given him a suppressed version of the telegram, and that she would be +betraying her, or again taking sides in this partisan divided home. +With some hesitation she at last alluded to the accident to the artesian +well. The major did not ask her how she had heard of it; it was a bad +business, he thought, but it might not be a total loss. The water may +have been only diverted by the shock and might be found again at the +lower level, or in some lateral fissure. He had sent hurriedly for Tom +Bent--that clever young engineer at the wheat ranch, who was always +studying up these things with his inventions--and that was his opinion. +No, Tom was not a well-digger, but it was generally known that he had +“located” one or two, and had long ago advised the tapping of that flow +by a second boring, in case of just such an emergency. He was coming +again to-morrow. By the way, he had asked how the young lady visitor +was, and hoped she had not been alarmed by the earthquake! + +Rose felt herself again blushing, and, what was more singular, with an +unexpected and it seemed to her ridiculous pleasure, although outwardly +she appeared to ignore the civility completely. And she had no +intention of being so easily placated. If this young man thought by mere +perfunctory civilities to her HOST to make up for his clownishness to +HER, he was mistaken. She would let him see it when he called to-morrow. +She quickly turned the subject by assuring the major of her sympathy and +her intention of sending for her father. For the rest of the afternoon +and during their al fresco dinner she solved the difficulty of her +strained relations with Mrs. Randolph and Emile by conversing chiefly +with the major, tacitly avoiding, however, any allusion to this Mr. +Bent. But Mrs. Randolph was less careful. + +“You don't really mean to say, major,” she began in her dryest, +grittiest manner, “that instead of sending to San Francisco for some +skilled master-mechanic, you are going to listen to the vagaries of a +conceited, half-educated farm-laborer, and employ him? You might as well +call in some of those wizards or water-witches at once.” But the major, +like many other well-managed husbands who are good-humoredly content +to suffer in the sunshine of prosperity, had no idea of doing so in +adversity, and the prospect of being obliged to go back to youthful +struggles had recalled some of the independence of that period. He +looked up quietly, and said:-- + +“If his conclusions are as clear and satisfactory to-morrow as they were +to-day, I shall certainly try to secure his services.” + +“Then I can only say I would prefer the water-witch. He at least +would not represent a class of neighbors who have made themselves +systematically uncivil and disagreeable to us.” + +“I am afraid, Josephine, we have not tried to make ourselves +particularly agreeable to THEM,” said the major. + +“If that can only be done by admitting their equality, I prefer they +should remain uncivil. Only let it be understood, major, that if you +choose to take this Tom-the-ploughboy to mend your well, you will at +least keep him there while he is on the property.” + +With what retort the major would have kept up this conjugal discussion, +already beginning to be awkward to the discreet visitor, is not known, +as it was suddenly stopped by a bullet from the rosebud lips of the +ingenuous Adele. + +“Why, he's very handsome when his face is clean, and his hands are small +and not at all hard. And he doesn't talk the least bit queer or common.” + +There was a dead silence. “And pray where did YOU see him, and what do +you know about his hands?” asked Mrs. Randolph, in her most desiccated +voice. “Or has the major already presented you to him? I shouldn't be +surprised.” + +“No, but”--hesitated the young girl, with a certain mouse-like +audacity,--“when you sent me to look after Miss Mallory, I came up to +him just after he had spoken to her, and he stopped to ask me how we all +were, and if Miss Mallory was really frightened by the earthquake, and +he shook hands for good afternoon--that's all.” + +“And who taught you to converse with common strangers and shake hands +with them?” continued Mrs. Randolph, with narrowing lips. + +“Nobody, mamma; but I thought if Miss Mallory, who is a young lady, +could speak to him, so could I, who am not out yet.” + +“We won't discuss this any further at present,” said Mrs. Randolph, +stiffly, as the major smiled grimly at Rose. “The earthquake seems to +have shaken down in this house more than the chimneys.” + +It certainly had shaken all power of sleep from the eyes of Rose when +the household at last dispersed to lie down in their clothes on +the mattresses which had been arranged under the awnings. She was +continually starting up from confused dreams of the ground shaking under +her, or she seemed to be standing on the brink of some dreadful abyss +like the great chasm on the grain-field, when it began to tremble and +crumble beneath her feet. It was near morning when, unable to endure +it any longer, she managed without disturbing the sleeping Adele, +who occupied the same curtained recess with her, to slip out from +the awning. Wrapped in a thick shawl, she made her way through the +encompassing trees and bushes of the garden that had seemed to imprison +and suffocate her, to the edge of the grain-field, where she could +breathe the fresh air beneath an open, starlit sky. There was no moon +and the darkness favored her; she had no fears that weighed against the +horror of seclusion with her own fancies. Besides, they were camping +OUT of the house, and if she chose to sit up or walk about, no one could +think it strange. She wished her father were here that she might have +some one of her own kin to talk to, yet she knew not what to say to him +if he had come. She wanted somebody to sympathize with her feelings,--or +rather, perhaps, some one to combat and even ridicule the uneasiness +that had lately come over her. She knew what her father would say,--“Do +you want to go, or do you want to stay here? Do you like these people, +or do you not?” She remembered the one or two glowing and enthusiastic +accounts she had written him of her visit here, and felt herself +blushing again. What would he think of Mrs. Randolph's opening and +answering the telegram? Wouldn't he find out from the major if she had +garbled the sense of his dispatch? + +Away to the right, in the midst of the distant and invisible +wheat-field, there was the same intermittent star, which like a living, +breathing thing seemed to dilate in glowing respiration, as she had seen +it the first night of her visit. Mr. Bent's forge! It must be nearly +daylight now; the poor fellow had been up all night, or else was +stealing this early march on the day. She recalled Adele's sudden +eulogium of him. The first natural smile that had come to her lips since +the earthquake broke up her nervous restraint, and sent her back more +like her old self to her couch. + +But she had not proceeded far towards the tent, when she heard the sound +of low voices approaching her. It was the major and his wife, who, like +herself, had evidently been unable to sleep, and were up betimes. A new +instinct of secretiveness, which she felt was partly the effect of her +artificial surrounding, checked her first natural instinct to call to +them, and she drew back deeper in the shadow to let them pass. But to +her great discomfiture the major in a conversational emphasis stopped +directly in front of her. + +“You are wrong, I tell you, a thousand times wrong. The girl is simply +upset by this earthquake. It's a great pity her father didn't come +instead of telegraphing. And by Jove, rather than hear any more of +this, I'll send for him myself,” said the major, in an energetic but +suppressed voice. + +“And the girl won't thank you, and you'll be a fool for your pains,” + returned Mrs. Randolph, with dry persistency. + +“But according to your own ideas of propriety, Mallory ought to be the +first one to be consulted--and by me, too.” + +“Not in this case. Of course, before any actual engagement is on, you +can speak of Emile's attentions.” + +“But suppose Mallory has other views. Suppose he declines the honor. The +man is no fool.” + +“Thank you. But for that very reason he must. Listen to me, major; if he +doesn't care to please his daughter for her own sake, he will have to +do so for the sake of decency. Yes, I tell you, she has thoroughly +compromised herself--quite enough, if it is ever known, to spoil any +other engagement her father may make. Why, ask Adele! The day of the +earthquake she ABSOLUTELY had the audacity to send him out of the room +upstairs into your study for her fan, and then follow him up there +alone. The servants knew it. I knew it, for I was in her room at the +time with Father Antonio. The earthquake made it plain to everybody. +Decline it! No. Mr. Mallory will think twice about it before he does +that. What's that? Who's there?” + +There was a sudden rustle in the bushes like the passage of some +frightened animal--and then all was still again. + + +CHAPTER V + + +The sun, an hour high, but only just topping the greenish crests of the +wheat, was streaming like the morning breeze through the open length of +Tom Bent's workshed. An exaggerated and prolonged shadow of the young +inventor himself at work beside his bench was stretching itself far into +the broken-down ranks of stalks towards the invisible road, and falling +at the very feet of Rose Mallory as she emerged from them. + +She was very pale, very quiet, and very determined. The traveling mantle +thrown over her shoulders was dusty, the ribbons that tied her hat under +her round chin had become unloosed. She advanced, walking down the line +of shadow directly towards him. + +“I am afraid I will have to trouble you once more,” she said with a +faint smile, which did not, however, reach her perplexed eyes. “Could +you give me any kind of a conveyance that would take me to San Jose at +once?” + +The young man had started at the rustling of her dress in the shavings, +and turned eagerly. The faintest indication of a loss of interest was +visible for an instant in his face, but it quickly passed into a smile +of recognition. Yet she felt that he had neither noticed any change in +her appearance, nor experienced any wonder at seeing her there at that +hour. + +“I did not take a buggy from the house,” she went on quickly, “for I +left early, and did not want to disturb them. In fact, they don't know +that I am gone. I was worried at not hearing news from my father in San +Francisco since the earthquake, and I thought I would run down to San +Jose to inquire without putting them to any trouble. Anything will do +that you have ready, if I can take it at once.” + +Still without exhibiting the least surprise, Bent nodded affirmatively, +put down his tools, begged her to wait a moment, and ran off in the +direction of the cabin. As he disappeared behind the wheat, she lapsed +quite suddenly against the work bench, but recovered herself a moment +later, leaning with her back against it, her hands grasping it on either +side, and her knit brows and determined little face turned towards the +road. Then she stood erect again, shook the dust out of her skirts, +lifted her veil, wiped her cheeks and brow with the corner of a small +handkerchief, and began walking up and down the length of the shed as +Bent reappeared. + +He was accompanied by the man who had first led her through the wheat. +He gazed upon her with apparently all the curiosity and concern that the +other had lacked. + +“You want to get to San Jose as quick as you can?” he said +interrogatively. + +“Yes,” she said quickly, “if you can help me.” + +“You walked all the way from the major's here?” he continued, without +taking his eyes from her face. + +“Yes,” she answered with an affectation of carelessness she had not +shown to Bent. “But I started very early, it was cool and pleasant, and +didn't seem far.” + +“I'll put you down in San Jose inside the hour. You shall have my horse +and trotting sulky, and I'll drive you myself. Will that do?” + +She looked at him wonderingly. She had not forgotten his previous +restraint and gravity, but now his face seemed to have relaxed with some +humorous satisfaction. She felt herself coloring slightly, but whether +with shame or relief she could not tell. + +“I shall be so much obliged to you,” she replied hesitatingly, “and so +will my father, I know.” + +“I reckon,” said the man with the same look of amused conjecture; then, +with a quick, assuring nod, he turned away, and dived into the wheat +again. + +“You're all right now, Miss Mallory,” said Bent, complacently. “Dawson +will fix it. He's got a good horse, and he's a good driver, too.” He +paused, and then added pleasantly, “I suppose they're all well up at the +house?” + +It was so evident that his remark carried no personal meaning to herself +that she was obliged to answer carelessly, “Oh, yes.” + +“I suppose you see a good deal of Miss Randolph--Miss Adele, I think +you call her?” he remarked tentatively, and with a certain boyish +enthusiasm, which she had never conceived possible to his nature. + +“Yes,” she replied a little dryly, “she is the only young lady there.” + She stopped, remembering Adele's naive description of the man before +her, and said abruptly, “You know her, then?” + +“A little,” replied the young man, modestly. “I see her pretty often +when I am passing the upper end of the ranch. She's very well brought +up, and her manners are very refined--don't you think so?--and yet she's +just as simple and natural as a country girl. There's a great deal +in education after all, isn't there?” he went on confidentially, “and +although”--he lowered his voice and looked cautiously around him--“I +believe that some of us here don't fancy her mother much, there's no +doubt that Mrs. Randolph knows how to bring up her children. Some people +think that kind of education is all artificial, and don't believe in it, +but I do!” + +With the consciousness that she was running away from these people and +the shameful disclosure she had heard last night--with the recollection +of Adele's scandalous interpretation of her most innocent actions and +her sudden and complete revulsion against all that she had previously +admired in that household, to hear this man who had seemed to her a +living protest against their ideas and principles, now expressing them +and holding them up for emulation, almost took her breath away. + +“I suppose that means you intend to fix Major Randolph's well for him?” + she said dryly. + +“Yes,” he returned without noticing her manner; “and I think I can find +that water again. I've been studying it up all night, and do you know +what I'm going to do? I am going to make the earthquake that lost it +help me to find it again.” He paused, and looked at her with a smile +and a return of his former enthusiasm. “Do you remember the crack in the +adobe field that stopped you yesterday?” + +“Yes,” said the girl, with a slight shiver. + +“I told you then that the same crack was a split in the rock outcrop +further up the plain, and was deeper. I am satisfied now, from what I +have seen, that it is really a rupture of the whole strata all the way +down. That's the one weak point that the imprisoned water is sure to +find, and that's where the borer will tap it--in the new well that the +earthquake itself has sunk.” + +It seemed to her now that she understood his explanation perfectly, and +she wondered the more that he had been so mistaken in his estimate of +Adele. She turned away a little impatiently and looked anxiously towards +the point where Dawson had disappeared. Bent followed her eyes. + +“He'll be here in a moment, Miss Mallory. He has to drive slowly through +the grain, but I hear the wheels.” He stopped, and his voice took up its +previous note of boyish hesitation. “By the way--I'll--I'll be going up +to the Rancho this afternoon to see the major. Have you any message for +Mrs. Randolph--or for--for Miss Adele?” + +“No”--said Rose, hesitatingly, “and--and”-- + +“I see,” interrupted Bent, carelessly. “You don't want anything said +about your coming here. I won't.” + +It struck her that he seemed to have no ulterior meaning in the +suggestion. But before she could make any reply, Dawson reappeared, +driving a handsome mare harnessed to a light, spider-like vehicle. He +had also assumed, evidently in great haste, a black frock coat buttoned +over his waistcoatless and cravatless shirt, and a tall black hat that +already seemed to be cracking in the sunlight. He drove up, at once +assisted her to the narrow perch beside him, and with a nod to Bent +drove off. His breathless expedition relieved the leave-taking of these +young people of any ceremony. + +“I suppose,” said Mr. Dawson, giving a half glance over his shoulder as +they struck into the dusty highway,--“I suppose you don't care to see +anybody before you get to San Jose?” + +“No-o-o,” said Rose, timidly. + +“And I reckon you wouldn't mind my racin' a bit if anybody kem up?” + +“No.” + +“The mare's sort o' fastidious about takin' anybody's dust.” + +“Is she?” said Rose, with a faint smile. + +“Awful,” responded her companion; “and the queerest thing of all is, she +can't bear to have any one behind her, either.” + +He leaned forward with his expression of humorous enjoyment of some +latent joke and did something with the reins--Rose never could clearly +understand what, though it seemed to her that he simply lifted them with +ostentatious lightness; but the mare suddenly seemed to LENGTHEN herself +and lose her height, and the stalks of wheat on either side of the dusty +track began to melt into each other, and then slipped like a flash into +one long, continuous, shimmering green hedge. So perfect was the mare's +action that the girl was scarcely conscious of any increased effort; so +harmonious the whole movement that the light skeleton wagon seemed only +a prolonged process of that long, slim body and free, collarless neck, +both straight as the thin shafts on each side and straighter than the +delicate ribbon-like traces which, in what seemed a mere affectation of +conscious power, hung at times almost limp between the whiffle-tree and +the narrow breast band which was all that confined the animal's powerful +fore-quarters. So superb was the reach of its long easy stride that Rose +could scarcely see any undulations in the brown shining back on which +she could have placed her foot, nor felt the soft beat of the delicate +hoofs that took the dust so firmly and yet so lightly. + +The rapidity of motion which kept them both with heads bent forward and +seemed to force back any utterance that rose to their lips spared Rose +the obligation of conversation, and her companion was equally reticent. +But it was evident to her that he half suspected she was running away +from the Randolphs, and that she wished to avoid the embarrassment of +being overtaken even in persuasive pursuit. It was not possible that +he knew the cause of her flight, and yet she could not account for +his evident desire to befriend her, nor, above all, for his apparently +humorous enjoyment of the situation. Had he taken it gravely, she might +have been tempted to partly confide in him and ask his advice. Was she +doing right, after all? Ought she not to have stayed long enough to +speak her mind to Mrs. Randolph and demand to be sent home? No! She had +not only shrunk from repeating the infamous slander she had overheard, +but she had a terrible fear that if she had done so, Mrs. Randolph was +capable of denying it, or even charging her of being still under the +influence of the earthquake shock and of walking in her sleep. No! She +could not trust her--she could trust no one there. Had not even the +major listened to those infamous lies? Had she not seen that he was +helpless in the hands of this cabal in his own household?--a cabal that +she herself had thoughtlessly joined against him. + +They had reached the first slight ascent. Her companion drew out his +watch, looked at it with satisfaction, and changed the position of his +hands on the reins. Without being able to detect the difference, she +felt they were slackening speed. She turned inquiringly towards him; he +nodded his head, with a half smile and a gesture to her to look ahead. +The spires of San Jose were already faintly uplifting from the distant +fringe of oaks. + +So soon! In fifteen minutes she would be there--and THEN! She remembered +suddenly she had not yet determined what to do. Should she go on at once +to San Francisco, or telegraph to her father and await him at San Jose? +In either case a new fear of the precipitancy of her action and the +inadequacy of her reasons had sprung up in her mind. Would her father +understand her? Would he underrate the cause and be mortified at the +insult she had given the family of his old friend, or, more dreadful +still, would he exaggerate her wrongs and seek a personal quarrel with +the major. He was a man of quick temper, and had the Western ideas of +redress. Perhaps even now she was precipitating a duel between them. Her +cheeks grew wan again, her breath came quickly, tears gathered in her +eyes. Oh, she was a dreadful girl, she knew it; she was an utterly +miserable one, and she knew that too! + +The reins were tightened. The pace lessened and at last fell to a walk. +Conscious of her telltale eyes and troubled face, she dared not turn to +her companion to ask him why, but glanced across the fields. + +“When you first came I didn't get to know your name, Miss Mallory, but I +reckon I know your father.” + +Her father! What made him say that? She wanted to speak, but she +felt she could not. In another moment, if he went on, she must do +SOMETHING--she would cry! + +“I reckon you'll be wanting to go to the hotel first, anyway?” + +There!--she knew it! He WOULD keep on! And now she had burst into tears. + +The mare was still walking slowly; the man was lazily bending forward +over the shafts as if nothing had occurred. Then suddenly, illogically, +and without a moment's warning, the pride that had sustained her +crumbled and became as the dust of the road. + +She burst out and told him--this stranger!--this man she had +disliked!--all and EVERYTHING. How she had felt, how she had been +deceived, and what she had overheard! + +“I thought as much,” said her companion, quietly, “and that's why I sent +for your father.” + +“You sent for my father!--when?--where?” echoed Rose, in astonishment. + +“Yesterday. He was to come to-day, and if we don't find him at the hotel +it will be because he has already started to come here by the upper and +longer road. But you leave it to ME, and don't you say anything to him +of this now. If he's at the hotel, I'll say I drove you down there to +show off the mare. Sabe? If he isn't, I'll leave you there and come back +here to find him. I've got something to tell him that will set YOU all +right.” He smiled grimly, lifted the reins, the mare started forward +again, and the vehicle and its occupants disappeared in a vanishing dust +cloud. + + +CHAPTER VI + + +It was nearly noon when Mr. Dawson finished rubbing down his sweating +mare in the little stable shed among the wheat. He had left Rose at the +hotel, for they found Mr. Mallory had previously started by a circuitous +route for the wheat ranch. He had resumed not only his working clothes +but his working expression. He was now superintending the unloading of +a wain of stores and implements when the light carryall of the Randolphs +rolled into the field. It contained only Mrs. Randolph and the driver. +A slight look of intelligence passed between the latter and the nearest +one of Dawson's companions, succeeded, however, by a dull look of stupid +vacancy on the faces of all the others, including Dawson. Mrs. Randolph +noticed it, and was forewarned. She reflected that no human beings ever +looked NATURALLY as stupid as that and were able to work. She smiled +sarcastically, and then began with dry distinctness and narrowing lips. + +“Miss Mallory, a young lady visiting us, went out for an early walk this +morning and has not returned. It is possible she may have lost her way +among your wheat. Have you seen anything of her?” + +Dawson raised his eyes from his work and glanced slowly around at his +companions, as if taking the heavy sense of the assembly. One or two +shook their heads mechanically, and returned to their suspended labor. +He said, coolly:-- + +“Nobody here seems to.” + +She felt that they were lying. She was only a woman against five men. +She was only a petty domestic tyrant; she might have been a larger one. +But she had all the courage of that possibility. + +“Major Randolph and my son are away,” she went on, drawing herself +erect. “But I know that the major will pay liberally if these men will +search the field, besides making it all right with your--EMPLOYERS--for +the loss of time.” + +Dawson uttered a single word in a low voice to the man nearest him, +who apparently communicated it to the others, for the four men stopped +unloading, and moved away one after the other--even the driver joining +in the exodus. Mrs. Randolph smiled sarcastically; it was plain that +these people, with all their boasted independence, were quite amenable +to pecuniary considerations. Nevertheless, as Dawson remained looking +quietly at her, she said:-- + +“Then I suppose they've concluded to go and see?” + +“No; I've sent them away so that they couldn't HEAR.” + +“Hear what?” + +“What I've got to say to you.” + +She looked at him suddenly. Then she said, with a disdainful +glance around her: “I see I am helpless here, and--thanks to your +trickery--alone. Have a care, sir; I warn you that you will have to +answer to Major Randolph for any insolence.” + +“I reckon you won't tell Major Randolph what I have to say to you,” he +returned coolly. + +Her lips were nearly a grayish hue, but she said scornfully: “And why +not? Do you know who you are talking to?” + +The man came lazily forward to the carryall, carelessly brushed aside +the slack reins, and resting his elbows on the horse's back, laid his +chin on his hands, as he looked up in the woman's face. + +“Yes; I know who I'm talking to,” he said coolly. “But as the major +don't, I reckon you won't tell him.” + +“Stand away from that horse!” she said, her whole face taking the +grayish color of her lips, but her black eyes growing smaller and +brighter. “Hand me those reins, and let me pass! What canaille are you +to stop me?” + +“I thought so,” returned the man, without altering his position; “you +don't know ME. You never saw ME before. Well, I'm Jim Dawson, the nephew +of L'Hommadieu, YOUR OLD MASTER!” + +She gripped the iron rail of the seat as if to leap from it, but checked +herself suddenly and leaned back, with a set smile on her mouth that +seemed stamped there. It was remarkable that with that smile she flung +away her old affectation of superciliousness for an older and ruder +audacity, and that not only the expression, but the type of her face +appeared to have changed. + +“I don't say,” continued the man quietly, “that he didn't MARRY you +before he died. But you know as well as I do that the laws of his State +didn't recognize the marriage of a master with his octoroon slave! And +you know as well as I do that even if he had freed you, he couldn't +change your blood. Why, if I'd been willing to stay at Avoyelles to be a +nigger-driver like him, the plantation of 'de Fontanges'--whose name +you have taken--would have been left to me. If YOU had stayed there, +you might have been my property instead of YOUR owning a square man like +Randolph. You didn't think of that when you came here, did you?” he said +composedly. + +“Oh, mon Dieu!” she said, dropping rapidly into a different accent, +with her white teeth and fixed mirthless smile, “so it is a claim for +PROPERTY, eh? You're wanting money--you? Tres bien, you forget we are +in California, where one does not own a slave. And you have a fine story +there, my poor friend. Very pretty, but very hard to prove, m'sieu. And +these peasants are in it, eh, working it on shares like the farm, eh?” + +“Well,” said Dawson, slightly changing his position, and passing his +hand over the horse's neck with a half-wearied contempt, “one of these +men is from Plaquemine, and the other from Coupee. They know all the +l'Hommadieus' history. And they know a streak of the tar brush when they +see it. They took your measure when they came here last year, and sized +you up fairly. So had I, for the matter of that, when I FIRST saw you. +And we compared notes. But the major is a square man, for all he is your +husband, and we reckoned he had a big enough contract on his hands to +take care of you and l'Hommadieu's half-breeds, and so”--he tossed the +reins contemptuously aside--“we kept this to ourselves.” + +“And now you want--what--eh?” + +“We want an end to this foolery,” he broke out roughly, stepping back +from the vehicle, and facing her suddenly, with his first angry gesture. +“We want an end to these airs and grimaces, and all this dandy nigger +business; we want an end to this 'cake-walking' through the wheat, and +flouting of the honest labor of your betters. We want you and your 'de +Fontanges' to climb down. And we want an end to this roping-in of white +folks to suit your little game; we want an end to your trying to mix +your nigger blood with any one here, and we intend to stop it. We draw +the line at the major.” + +Lashed as she had been by those words apparently out of all semblance of +her former social arrogance, a lower and more stubborn resistance seemed +to have sprung up in her, as she sat sideways, watching him with her set +smile and contracting eyes. + +“Ah,” she said dryly, “so SHE IS HERE. I thought so. Which of you is it, +eh? It's a good spec--Mallory's a rich man. She's not particular.” + +The man had stopped as if listening, his head turned towards the road. +Then he turned carelessly, and facing her again, waved his hand with a +gesture of tired dismissal, and said, “Go! You'll find your driver over +there by the tool-shed. He has heard nothing yet--but I've given you +fair warning. Go!” + +He walked slowly back towards the shed, as the woman, snatching up +the reins, drove violently off in the direction where the men had +disappeared. But she turned aside, ignoring her waiting driver in her +wild and reckless abandonment of all her old conventional attitudes, and +lashing her horse forward with the same set smile on her face, the same +odd relaxation of figure, and the same squaring of her elbows. + +Avoiding the main road, she pushed into a narrow track that intersected +another nearer the scene of the accident to Rose's buggy three weeks +before. She had nearly passed it when she was hailed by a strange voice, +and looking up, perceived a horseman floundering in the mazes of the +wheat to one side of the track. Whatever mean thought of her past life +she was flying from, whatever mean purpose she was flying to, she pulled +up suddenly, and as suddenly resumed her erect, aggressive stiffness. +The stranger was a middle-aged man; in dress and appearance a dweller of +cities. He lifted his hat as he perceived the occupant of the wagon to +be a lady. + +“I beg your pardon, but I fear I've lost my way in trying to make a +short cut to the Excelsior Company's Ranch.” + +“You are in it now,” said Mrs. Randolph, quickly. + +“Thank you, but where can I find the farmhouse?” + +“There is none,” she returned, with her old superciliousness, “unless +you choose to give that name to the shanties and sheds where the +laborers and servants live, near the road.” + +The stranger looked puzzled. “I'm looking for a Mr. Dawson,” he said +reflectively, “but I may have made some mistake. Do you know Major +Randolph's house hereabouts?” + +“I do. I am Mrs. Randolph,” she said stiffly. + +The stranger's brow cleared, and he smiled pleasantly. “Then this is a +fortunate meeting,” he said, raising his hat again as he reined in his +horse beside the wagon, “for I am Mr. Mallory, and I was looking forward +to the pleasure of presenting myself to you an hour or two later. The +fact is, an old acquaintance, Mr. Dawson, telegraphed me yesterday to +meet him here on urgent business, and I felt obliged to go there first.” + +Mrs. Randolph's eyes sparkled with a sudden gratified intelligence, but +her manner seemed rather to increase than abate its grim precision. + +“Our meeting this morning, Mr. Mallory, is both fortunate and +unfortunate, for I regret to say that your daughter, who has not been +quite herself since the earthquake, was missing early this morning and +has not yet been found, though we have searched everywhere. Understand +me,” she said, as the stranger started, “I have no fear for her PERSONAL +safety, I am only concerned for any INDISCRETION that she may commit in +the presence of these strangers whose company she would seem to prefer +to ours.” + +“But I don't understand you, madam,” said Mallory, sternly; “you are +speaking of my daughter, and”-- + +“Excuse me, Mr. Mallory,” said Mrs. Randolph, lifting her hand with +her driest deprecation and her most desiccating smile, “I'm not passing +judgment or criticism. I am of a foreign race, and consequently do not +understand the freedom of American young ladies, and their familiarity +with the opposite sex. I make no charges, I only wish to assure you that +she will no doubt be found in the company and under the protection of +her own countrymen. There is,” she added with ironical distinctness, “a +young mechanic, or field hand, or 'quack well-doctor,' whom she seems to +admire, and with whom she appears to be on equal terms.” + +Mallory regarded her for a moment fixedly, and then his sternness +relaxed to a mischievously complacent smile. “That must be young Bent, +of whom I've heard,” he said with unabated cheerfulness. “And I don't +know but what she may be with him, after all. For now I think of it, a +chuckle-headed fellow, of whom a moment ago I inquired the way to your +house, told me I'd better ask the young man and young woman who were +'philandering through the wheat' yonder. Suppose we look for them. From +what I've heard of Bent he's too much wrapped up in his inventions for +flirtation, but it would be a good joke to stumble upon them.” + +Mrs. Randolph's eyes sparkled with a mingling of gratified malice and +undisguised contempt for the fatuous father beside her. But before she +could accept or decline the challenge, it had become useless. A murmur +of youthful voices struck her ear, and she suddenly stood upright and +transfixed in the carriage. For lounging down slowly towards them out +of the dim green aisles of the arbored wheat, lost in themselves and the +shimmering veil of their seclusion, came the engineer, Thomas Bent, and +on his arm, gazing ingenuously into his face, the figure of Adele,--her +own perfect daughter. + + +“I don't think, my dear,” said Mr. Mallory, as the anxious Rose flew +into his arms on his return to San Jose, a few hours later, “that it +will be necessary for you to go back again to Major Randolph's before we +leave. I have said 'Good-by' for you and thanked them, and your trunks +are packed and will be sent here. The fact is, my dear, you see this +affair of the earthquake and the disaster to the artesian well have +upset all their arrangements, and I am afraid that my little girl would +be only in their way just now.” + +“And you have seen Mr. Dawson--and you know why he sent for you?” asked +the young girl, with nervous eagerness. + +“Ah, yes,” said Mr. Mallory thoughtfully, “THAT was really important. +You see, my child,” he continued, taking her hand in one of his own and +patting the back of it gently with the other, “we think, Dawson and I, +of taking over the major's ranch and incorporating it with the Excelsior +in one, to be worked on shares like the Excelsior; and as Mrs. Randolph +is very anxious to return to the Atlantic States with her children, it +is quite possible. Mrs. Randolph, as you have possibly noticed,” Mr. +Mallory went on, still patting his daughter's hand, “does not feel +entirely at home here, and will consequently leave the major free to +rearrange, by himself, the ranch on the new basis. In fact, as the +change must be made before the crops come in, she talks of going next +week. But if you like the place, Rose, I've no doubt the major and +Dawson will always find room for you and me when we run down there for a +little fresh air.” + +“And did you have all that in your mind, papa, when you came down here, +and was that what you and Mr. Dawson wanted to talk about?” said the +astonished Rose. + +“Mainly, my dear, mainly. You see I'm a capitalist now, and the +real value of capital is to know how and when to apply it to certain +conditions.” + +“And this Mr.--Mr. Bent--do you think--he will go on and find the water, +papa?” said Rose, hesitatingly. + +“Ah! Bent--Tom Bent--oh, yes,” said Mallory, with great heartiness. +“Capital fellow, Bent! and mighty ingenious! Glad you met him! Well,” + thoughtfully but still heartily, “he may not find it exactly where he +expected, but he'll find it or something better. We can't part with him, +and he has promised Dawson to stay. We'll utilize HIM, you may be sure.” + +It would seem that they did, and from certain interviews and +conversations that took place between Mr. Bent and Miss Mallory on +a later visit, it would also appear that her father had exercised +a discreet reticence in regard to a certain experiment of the young +inventor, of which he had been an accidental witness. + + + + +A MAECENAS OF THE PACIFIC SLOPE + + +CHAPTER I + + +As Mr. Robert Rushbrook, known to an imaginative press as the “Maecenas +of the Pacific Slope,” drove up to his country seat, equally referred +to as a “palatial villa,” he cast a quick but practical look at the +pillared pretensions of that enormous shell of wood and paint and +plaster. The statement, also a reportorial one, that its site, the +Canyon of Los Osos, “some three years ago was disturbed only by the +passing tread of bear and wild-cat,” had lost some of its freshness as a +picturesque apology, and already successive improvements on the original +building seemingly cast the older part of the structure back to a hoary +antiquity. To many it stood as a symbol of everything Robert Rushbrook +did or had done--an improvement of all previous performances; it was +like his own life--an exciting though irritating state of transition to +something better. Yet the visible architectural result, as here shown, +was scarcely harmonious; indeed, some of his friends--and Maecenas had +many--professed to classify the various improvements by the successive +fortunate ventures in their owner's financial career, which had led +to new additions, under the names, of “The Comstock Lode Period,” “The +Union Pacific Renaissance,” “The Great Wheat Corner,” and “Water Front +Gable Style,” a humorous trifling that did not, however, prevent a few +who were artists from accepting Maecenas's liberal compensation for +their services in giving shape to those ideas. + +Relinquishing to a groom his fast-trotting team, the second relay in his +two hours' drive from San Francisco, he leaped to the ground to meet the +architect, already awaiting his orders in the courtyard. With his eyes +still fixed upon the irregular building before him, he mingled his +greeting and his directions. + +“Look here, Barker, we'll have a wing thrown out here, and a +hundred-foot ballroom. Something to hold a crowd; something that can be +used for music--sabe?--a concert, or a show.” + +“Have you thought of any style, Mr. Rushbrook?” suggested the architect. + +“No,” said Rushbrook; “I've been thinking of the time--thirty days, and +everything to be in. You'll stop to dinner. I'll have you sit near Jack +Somers. You can talk style to him. Say I told you.” + +“You wish it completed in thirty days?” repeated the architect, +dubiously. + +“Well, I shouldn't mind if it were less. You can begin at once. There's +a telegraph in the house. Patrick will take any message, and you can +send up to San Francisco and fix things before dinner.” + +Before the man could reply, Rushbrook was already giving a hurried +interview to the gardener and others on his way to the front porch. In +another moment he had entered his own hall,--a wonderful temple of white +and silver plaster, formal, yet friable like the sugared erection of a +wedding cake,--where his major-domo awaited him. + +“Well, who's here?” asked Rushbrook, still advancing towards his +apartments. + +“Dinner is set for thirty, sir,” said the functionary, keeping step +demurely with his master, “but Mr. Appleby takes ten over to San +Mateo, and some may sleep there. The char-a-banc is still out and five +saddle-horses, to a picnic in Green Canyon, and I can't positively say, +but I should think you might count on seeing about forty-five guests +before you go to town to-morrow. The opera troupe seem to have not +exactly understood the invitation, sir.” + +“How? I gave it myself.” + +“The chorus and supernumeraries thought themselves invited too, sir, and +have come, I believe, sir. At least Signora Pegrelli and Madame Denise +said so, and that they would speak to you about it, but that meantime I +could put them up anywhere.” + +“And you made no distinction, of course?” + +“No, sir, I put them in the corresponding rooms opposite, sir. I don't +think the prima donnas like it.” + +“Ah!” + +“Yes, sir.” + +Whatever was in their minds, the two men never changed their steady, +practical gravity of manner. The major-domo's appeared to be a subdued +imitation of his master's, worn, as he might have worn his master's +clothes, had he accepted, or Mr. Rushbrook permitted, such a +degradation. By this time they had reached the door of Mr. Rushbrook's +room, and the man paused. “I didn't include some guests of Mr. Leyton's, +sir, that he brought over here to show around the place, but he told me +to tell you he would take them away again, or leave them, as you liked. +They're some Eastern strangers stopping with him.” + +“All right,” said Rushbrook, quietly, as he entered his own apartment. +It was decorated as garishly as the hall, as staring and vivid in color, +but wholesomely new and clean for all its paint, veneering, and plaster. +It was filled with heterogeneous splendor--all new and well kept, yet +with so much of the attitude of the show-room still lingering about +it that one almost expected to see the various articles of furniture +ticketed with their prices. A luxurious bed, with satin hangings and +Indian carved posts, standing ostentatiously in a corner, kept up this +resemblance, for in a curtained recess stood a worn camp bedstead, +Rushbrook's real couch, Spartan in its simplicity. + +Mr. Rushbrook drew his watch from his pocket, and deliberately divested +himself of his boots, coat, waistcoat, and cravat. Then rolling himself +in a fleecy, blanket-like rug with something of the habitual dexterity +of a frontiersman, he threw himself on his couch, closed his eyes, +and went instantly to sleep. Lying there, he appeared to be a man +comfortably middle-aged, with thick iron-gray hair that might have +curled had he encouraged such inclination; a skin roughened and darkened +by external hardships and exposure, but free from taint of inner vice +or excess, and indistinctive features redeemed by a singularly handsome +mouth. As the lower part of the face was partly hidden by a dense but +closely-cropped beard, it is probable that the delicate outlines of his +lips had gained something from their framing. + +He slept, through what seemed to be the unnatural stillness of the large +house,--a quiet that might have come from the lingering influence of +the still virgin solitude around it, as if Nature had forgotten the +intrusion, or were stealthily retaking her own; and later, through the +rattle of returning wheels or the sound of voices, which were, however, +promptly absorbed in that deep and masterful silence which was the +unabdicating genius of the canyon. For it was remarkable that even +the various artists, musicians, orators, and poets whom Maecenas had +gathered in his cool business fashion under that roof, all seemed to +become, by contrast with surrounding Nature, as new and artificial as +the house, and as powerless to assert themselves against its influence. + +He was still sleeping when James re-entered the room, but awoke promptly +at the sound of his voice. In a few moments he had rearranged his +scarcely disordered toilette, and stepped out refreshed and observant +into the hall. The guests were still absent from that part of the +building, and he walked leisurely past the carelessly opened doors +of the rooms they had left. Everywhere he met the same glaring +ornamentation and color, the same garishness of treatment, the same +inharmonious extravagance of furniture, and everywhere the same troubled +acceptance of it by the inmates, or the same sense of temporary and +restricted tenancy. Dresses were hung over cheval glasses; clothes piled +up on chairs to avoid the use of doubtful and over ornamented wardrobes, +and in some cases more practical guests had apparently encamped in a +corner of their apartment. A gentleman from Siskyou--sole proprietor of +a mill patent now being considered by Maecenas--had confined himself to +a rocking-chair and clothes-horse as being trustworthy and familiar; a +bolder spirit from Yreka--in treaty for capital to start an independent +journal devoted to Maecenas's interests--had got a good deal out of, and +indeed all he had INTO, a Louis XVI. armoire; while a young painter from +Sacramento had simply retired into his adjoining bath-room, leaving the +glories of his bedroom untarnished. Suddenly he paused. + +He had turned into a smaller passage in order to make a shorter cut +through one of the deserted suites of apartments that should bring him +to that part of the building where he designed to make his projected +improvement, when his feet were arrested on the threshold of a +sitting-room. Although it contained the same decoration and furniture +as the other rooms, it looked totally different! It was tasteful, +luxurious, comfortable, and habitable. The furniture seemed to have +fallen into harmonious position; even the staring decorations of the +walls and ceiling were toned down by sprays of laurel and red-stained +manzanito boughs with their berries, apparently fresh plucked from the +near canyon. But he was more unexpectedly impressed to see that the room +was at that moment occupied by a tall, handsome girl, who had paused +to take breath, with her hand still on the heavy centre-table she was +moving. Standing there, graceful, glowing, and animated, she looked the +living genius of the recreated apartment. + + +CHAPTER II + + +Mr. Rushbrook glanced rapidly at his unknown guest. “Excuse me,” he +said, with respectful business brevity, “but I thought every one was +out,” and he stepped backward quickly. + +“I've only just come,” she said without embarrassment, “and would you +mind, as you ARE here, giving me a lift with this table?” + +“Certainly,” replied Rushbrook, and under the young girl's direction the +millionaire moved the table to one side. + +During the operation he was trying to determine which of his +unrecognized guests the fair occupant was. Possibly one of the Leyton +party, that James had spoken of as impending. + +“Then you have changed all the furniture, and put up these things?” he +asked, pointing to the laurel. + +“Yes, the room was really something TOO awful. It looks better now, +don't you think?” + +“A hundred per cent.,” said Rushbrook, promptly. “Look here, I'll tell +you what you've done. You've set the furniture TO WORK! It was simply +lying still--with no return to anybody on the investment.” + +The young girl opened her gray eyes at this, and then smiled. The +intruder seemed to be characteristic of California. As for Rushbrook, he +regretted that he did not know her better, he would at once have asked +her to rearrange all the rooms, and have managed in some way liberally +to reward her for it. A girl like that had no nonsense about her. + +“Yes,” she said, “I wonder Mr. Rushbrook don't look at it in that way. +It is a shame that all these pretty things--and you know they are really +good and valuable--shouldn't show what they are. But I suppose everybody +here accepts the fact that this man simply buys them because they are +valuable, and nobody interferes, and is content to humor him, laugh at +him, and feel superior. It don't strike me as quite fair, does it you?” + +Rushbrook was pleased. Without the vanity that would be either annoyed +at this revelation of his reputation, or gratified at her defense of it, +he was simply glad to discover that she had not recognized him as her +host, and could continue the conversation unreservedly. “Have you +seen the ladies' boudoir?” he asked. “You know, the room fitted with +knick-knacks and pretty things--some of 'em bought from old collections +in Europe, by fellows who knew what they were but perhaps,” he added, +looking into her eyes for the first time, “didn't know exactly what +ladies cared for.” + +“I merely glanced in there when I first came, for there was such a queer +lot of women--I'm told he isn't very particular in that way--that I +didn't stay.” + +“And you didn't think THEY might be just as valuable and good as some of +the furniture, if they could have been pulled around and put into shape, +or set in a corner, eh?” + +The young girl smiled; she thought her fellow-guest rather amusing, none +the less so, perhaps, for catching up her own ideas, but nevertheless +she slightly shrugged her shoulders with that hopeless skepticism which +women reserve for their own sex. “Some of them looked as if they had +been pulled around, as you say, and hadn't been improved by it.” + +“There's no one there now,” said Rushbrook, with practical directness; +“come and take a look at it.” She complied without hesitation, walking +by his side, tall, easy, and self-possessed, apparently accepting +without self-consciousness his half paternal, half comrade-like +informality. The boudoir was a large room, repeating on a bigger scale +the incongruousness and ill fitting splendor of the others. When she +had of her own accord recognized and pointed out the more admirable +articles, he said, gravely looking at his watch, “We've just about seven +minutes yet; if you'd like to pull and haul these things around, I'll +help you.” + +The young girl smiled. “I'm quite content with what I've done in my own +room, where I have no one's taste to consult but my own. I hardly know +how Mr. Rushbrook, or his lady friends, might like my operating here.” + Then recognizing with feminine tact the snub that might seem implied in +her refusal, she said quickly, “Tell me something about our host--but +first look! isn't that pretty?” + +She had stopped before the window that looked upon the dim blue abyss of +the canyon, and was leaning out to gaze upon it. Rushbrook joined her. + +“There isn't much to be changed down THERE, is there?” he said, half +interrogatively. + +“No, not unless Mr. Rushbrook took it into his head to roof it in, and +somebody was ready with a contract to do it. But what do you know of +him? Remember, I'm quite a stranger here.” + +“You came with Charley Leyton?” + +“With MRS. Leyton's party,” said the young girl, with a half-smiling +emphasis. “But it seems that we don't know whether Mr. Rushbrook wants +us here or not till he comes. And the drollest thing about it is that +they're all so perfectly frank in saying so.” + +“Charley and he are old friends, and you'll do well to trust to their +judgment.” + +This was hardly the kind of response that the handsome and clever +society girl before him had been in the habit of receiving, but it +amused her. Her fellow-guest was decidedly original. But he hadn't +told her about Rushbrook, and it struck her that his opinion would be +independent, at least. She reminded him of it. + +“Look here,” said Rushbrook, “you'll meet a man here to-night--or he'll +be sure to meet YOU--who'll tell you all about Rushbrook. He's a smart +chap, knows everybody and talks well. His name is Jack Somers; he is +a great ladies' man. He can talk to you about these sort of things, +too,”--indicating the furniture with a half tolerant, half contemptuous +gesture, that struck her as inconsistent with what seemed to be his +previous interest,--“just as well as he can talk of people. Been in +Europe, too.” + +The young girl's eye brightened with a quick vivacity at the name, but a +moment after became reflective and slightly embarrassed. “I know him--I +met him at Mr. Leyton's. He has already talked of Mr. Rushbrook, but,” + she added, avoiding any conclusion, with a pretty pout, “I'd like +to have the opinion of others. Yours, now, I fancy would be quite +independent.” + +“You stick to what Jack Somers has said, good or bad, and you won't +be far wrong,” he said assuringly. He stopped; his quick ear had heard +approaching voices; he returned to her and held out his hand. As it +seemed to her that in California everybody shook hands with everybody +else on the slightest occasions, sometimes to save further conversation, +she gave him her own. He shook it, less forcibly than she had feared, +and abruptly left her. For a moment she was piqued at this superior and +somewhat brusque way of ignoring her request, but reflecting that it +might be the awkwardness of an untrained man, she dismissed it from her +mind. The voices of her friends in the already resounding passages also +recalled her to the fact that she had been wandering about the house +with a stranger, and she rejoined them a little self-consciously. + +“Well, my dear,” said Mrs. Leyton, gayly, “it seems we are to stay. +Leyton says Rushbrook won't hear of our going.” + +“Does that mean that your husband takes the whole opera troupe over to +your house in exchange?” + +“Don't be satirical, but congratulate yourself on your opportunity of +seeing an awfully funny gathering. I wouldn't have you miss it for the +world. It's the most characteristic thing out.” + +“Characteristic of what?” + +“Of Rushbrook, of course. Nobody else would conceive of getting together +such a lot of queer people.” + +“But don't it strike you that we're a part of the lot?” + +“Perhaps,” returned the lively Mrs. Leyton. “No doubt that's the reason +why Jack Somers is coming over, and is so anxious that YOU should stay. +I can't imagine why else he should rave about Miss Grace Nevil as he +does. Come, Grace, no New York or Philadelphia airs, here! Consider your +uncle's interests with this capitalist, to say nothing of ours. Because +you're a millionaire and have been accustomed to riches from your birth, +don't turn up your nose at our unpampered appetites. Besides, Jack +Somers is Rushbrook's particular friend, and he may think your +criticisms unkind.” + +“But IS Mr. Somers such a great friend of Mr. Rushbrook's?” asked Grace +Nevil. + +“Why, of course. Rushbrook consults him about all these things; gives +him carte blanche to invite whom he likes and order what he likes, and +trusts his taste and judgment implicitly.” + +“Then this gathering is Mr. Somers's selection?” + +“How preposterous you are, Grace. Of course not. Only Somers's IDEA of +what is pleasing to Rushbrook, gotten up with a taste and discretion +all his own. You know Somers is a gentleman, educated at West +Point--traveled all over Europe--you might have met him there; and +Rushbrook--well, you have only to see him to know what HE is. Don't you +understand?” + +A slight seriousness; the same shadow that once before darkened the +girl's charming face gave way to a mischievous knitting of her brows as +she said naively, “No.” + + +CHAPTER III + + +Grace Nevil had quite recovered her equanimity when the indispensable +Mr. Somers, handsome, well-bred, and self-restrained, approached her +later in the crowded drawing-room. Blended with his subdued personal +admiration was a certain ostentation of respect--as of a tribute to +a distinguished guest--that struck her. “I am to have the pleasure of +taking you in, Miss Nevil,” he said. “It's my one compensation for the +dreadful responsibility just thrust upon me. Our host has been suddenly +called away, and I am left to take his place.” + +Miss Nevil was slightly startled. Nevertheless, she smiled graciously. +“From what I hear this is no new function of yours; that is, if there +really IS a Mr. Rushbrook. I am inclined to think him a myth.” + +“You make me wish he were,” retorted Somers, gallantly; “but as I +couldn't reign at all, except in his stead, I shall look to you to lend +your rightful grace to my borrowed dignity.” + +The more general announcement to the company was received with a few +perfidious regrets from the more polite, but with only amused surprise +by the majority. Indeed, many considered it “characteristic”--“so like +Bob Rushbrook,” and a few enthusiastic friends looked upon it as a +crowning and intentional stroke of humor. It remained, however, for the +gentleman from Siskyou to give the incident a subtlety that struck Miss +Nevil's fancy. “It reminds me,” he said in her hearing, “of ole Kernel +Frisbee, of Robertson County, one of the purlitest men I ever struck. +When he knew a feller was very dry, he'd jest set the decanter afore +him, and managed to be called outer the room on bus'ness. Now, Bob +Rushbrook's about as white a man as that. He's jest the feller, who, +knowing you and me might feel kinder restrained about indulging our +appetites afore him, kinder drops out easy, and leaves us alone.” + And she was impressed by an instinct that the speaker really felt the +delicacy he spoke of, and that it left no sense of inferiority behind. + +The dinner, served in a large, brilliantly-lit saloon, that in floral +decoration and gilded columns suggested an ingenious blending of a +steamboat table d'hote and “harvest home,” was perfect in its cuisine, +even if somewhat extravagant in its proportions. + +“I should be glad to receive the salary that Rushbrook pays his chef, +and still happier to know how to earn it as fairly,” said Somers to his +fair companion. + +“But is his skill entirely appreciated here?” she asked. + +“Perfectly,” responded Somers. “Our friend from Siskyou over there +appreciates that 'pate' which he cannot name as well as I do. Rushbrook +himself is the only exception, yet I fancy that even HIS simplicity and +regularity in feeding is as much a matter of business with him as +any defect in his earlier education. In his eyes, his chef's greatest +qualification is his promptness and fertility. Have you noticed that +ornament before you?” pointing to an elaborate confection. “It bears +your initials, you see. It was conceived and executed since you +arrived--rather, I should say, since it was known that you would honor +us with your company. The greatest difficulty encountered was to find +out what your initials were.” + +“And I suppose,” mischievously added the young girl to her +acknowledgments, “that the same fertile mind which conceived the design +eventually provided the initials?” + +“That is our secret,” responded Somers, with affected gravity. + +The wines were of characteristic expensiveness, and provoked the same +general comment. Rushbrook seldom drank wine; Somers had selected +it. But the barbaric opulence of the entertainment culminated in the +Californian fruits, piled in pyramids on silver dishes, gorgeous and +unreal in their size and painted beauty, and the two Divas smiled over +a basket of grapes and peaches as outrageous in dimensions and glaring +color as any pasteboard banquet at which they had professionally +assisted. As the courses succeeded each other, under the exaltation of +wine, conversation became more general as regarded participation, but +more local and private as regarded the subject, until Miss Nevil could +no longer follow it. The interests of that one, the hopes of another, +the claims of a third, in affairs that were otherwise uninteresting, +were all discussed with singular youthfulness of trust that to her +alone seemed remarkable. Not that she lacked entertainment from the +conversation of her clever companion, whose confidences and criticisms +were very pleasant to her; but she had a gentlewoman's instinct that he +talked to her too much, and more than was consistent with his duties +as the general host. She looked around the table for her singular +acquaintance of an hour before, but she had not seen him since. She +would have spoken about him to Somers, but she had an instinctive +idea that the latter would be antipathetic, in spite of the stranger's +flattering commendation. So she found herself again following Somers's +cynical but good-humored description of the various guests, and, I +fear, seeing with his eyes, listening with his ears, and occasionally +participating in his superior attitude. The “fearful joy” she had found +in the novelty of the situation and the originality of the actors seemed +now quite right from this critical point of view. So she learned how the +guest with the long hair was an unknown painter, to whom Rushbrook had +given a commission for three hundred yards of painted canvas, to be cut +up and framed as occasion and space required, in Rushbrook's new +hotel in San Francisco; how the gray-bearded foreigner near him was an +accomplished bibliophile who was furnishing Mr. Rushbrook's library from +spoils of foreign collections, and had suffered unheard-of agonies from +the millionaire's insisting upon a handsome uniform binding that should +deprive certain precious but musty tomes of their crumbling, worm-eaten +coverings; how the very gentle, clerical-looking stranger, mildest of a +noisy, disputing crowd at the other table, was a notorious duelist and +dead shot; how the only gentleman at the table who retained a flannel +shirt and high boots was not a late-coming mountaineer, but a well-known +English baronet on his travels; how the man who told a somewhat florid +and emphatic anecdote was a popular Eastern clergyman; how the one +querulous, discontented face in a laughing group was the famous humorist +who had just convulsed it; and how a pale, handsome young fellow, who +ate and drank sparingly and disregarded the coquettish advances of the +prettiest Diva with the cold abstraction of a student, was a notorious +roue and gambler. But there was a sudden and unlooked-for change of +criticism and critic. + +The festivity had reached that stage when the guests were more or less +accessible to emotion, and more or less touched by the astounding fact +that every one was enjoying himself. This phenomenon, which is apt to +burst into song or dance among other races, is constrained to voice +itself in an Anglo-Saxon gathering by some explanation, apology, or +moral--known as an after-dinner speech. Thus it was that the gentleman +from Siskyou, who had been from time to time casting glances at Somers +and his fair companion at the head of the table, now rose to his feet, +albeit unsteadily, pushed back his chair, and began:-- + +“'Pears to me, ladies and gentlemen, and feller pardners, that on +an occasion like this, suthin' oughter be said of the man who got it +up--whose money paid for it, and who ain't here to speak for himself, +except by deputy. Yet you all know that's Bob Rushbrook's style--he +ain't here, because he's full of some other plan or improvements--and +it's like him to start suthin' of this kind, give it its aim and +purpose, and then stand aside to let somebody else run it for him. There +ain't no man livin' ez hez, so to speak, more fast horses ready saddled +for riding, and more fast men ready spurred to ride 'em,--whether to win +his races or run his errands. There ain't no man livin' ez knows better +how to make other men's games his, or his game seem to be other men's. +And from Jack Somers smilin' over there, ez knows where to get the best +wine that Bob pays for, and knows how to run this yer show for Bob, +at Bob's expense--we're all contented. Ladies and gentlemen, we're all +contented. We stand, so to speak, on the cards he's dealt us. What may +be his little game, it ain't for us to say; but whatever it is, WE'RE IN +IT. Gentlemen and ladies, we'll drink Bob's health!” + +There was a somewhat sensational pause, followed by good-natured +laughter and applause, in which Somers joined; yet not without a certain +constraint that did not escape the quick sympathy of the shocked and +unsmiling Miss Nevil. It was with a feeling of relief that she caught +the chaperoning eye of Mrs. Leyton, who was entreating her in the usual +mysterious signal to the other ladies to rise and follow her. When she +reached the drawing-room, a little behind the others, she was somewhat +surprised to observe that the stranger whom she had missed during the +evening was approaching her with Mrs. Leyton. + +“Mr. Rushbrook returned sooner than he expected, but unfortunately, +as he always retires early, he has only time to say 'goodnight' to you +before he goes.” + +For an instant Grace Nevil was more angry than disconcerted. Then came +the conviction that she was stupid not to have suspected the truth +before. Who else would that brusque stranger develop into but this rude +host? She bowed formally. + +Mr. Rushbrook looked at her with the faintest smile on his handsome +mouth. “Well, Miss Nevil, I hope Jack Somers satisfied your curiosity?” + +With a sudden recollection of the Siskyou gentleman's speech, and a +swift suspicion that in some way she had been made use of with the +others by this forceful-looking man before her, she answered pertly:-- + +“Yes; but there was a speech by a gentleman from Siskyou that struck me +as being nearer to the purpose.” + +“That's so,--I heard it as I came in,” said Mr. Rushbrook, calmly. “I +don't know but you're right.” + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Six months had passed. The Villa of Maecenas was closed at Los Osos +Canyon, and the southwest trade-winds were slanting the rains of the wet +season against its shut windows and barred doors. Within that hollow, +deserted shell, its aspect--save for a single exception--was unchanged; +the furniture and decorations preserved their eternal youth undimmed +by time; the rigidly-arranged rooms, now closed to life and light, +developed more than ever their resemblance to a furniture warehouse. +The single exception was the room which Grace Nevil had rearranged for +herself; and that, oddly enough, was stripped and bare--even to its +paper and mouldings. + +In other respects, the sealed treasures of Rushbrook's villa, far from +provoking any sentimentality, seemed only to give truth to the current +rumor that it was merely waiting to be transformed into a gorgeous +watering-place hotel under Rushbrook's direction; that, with its new +ball-room changed into an elaborate dining-hall, it would undergo still +further improvement, the inevitable end and object of all Rushbrook's +enterprise; and that its former proprietor had already begun another +villa whose magnificence should eclipse the last. There certainly +appeared to be no limit to the millionaire's success in all that he +personally undertook, or in his fortunate complicity with the enterprise +and invention of others. His name was associated with the oldest +and safest schemes, as well as the newest and boldest--with an equal +guarantee of security. A few, it was true, looked doubtingly upon this +“one man power,” but could not refute the fact that others had largely +benefited by association with him, and that he shared his profits with +a royal hand. Some objected on higher grounds to his brutalizing +the influence of wealth by his material and extravagantly practical +processes, instead of the gentler suggestions of education and personal +example, and were impelled to point out the fact that he and his +patronage were vulgar. It was felt, however, by those who received his +benefits, that a proper sense of this inferiority was all that ethics +demanded of them. One could still accept Rushbrook's barbaric gifts by +humorously recognizing the fact that he didn't know any better, and that +it pleased him, as long as they resented any higher pretensions. + +The rain-beaten windows of Rushbrook's town house, however, were +cheerfully lit that December evening. Mr. Rushbrook seldom dined +alone; in fact, it was popularly alleged that very often the unfinished +business of the day was concluded over his bountiful and perfect board. +He was dressing as James entered the room. + +“Mr. Leyton is in your study, sir; he will stay to dinner.” + +“All right.” + +“I think, sir,” added James, with respectful suggestiveness, “he wants +to talk. At least, sir, he asked me if you would likely come downstairs +before your company arrived.” + +“Ah! Well, tell the others I'm dining on BUSINESS, and set dinner for +two in the blue room.” + +“Yes, sir.” + +Meanwhile, Mr. Leyton--a man of Rushbrook's age, but not so fresh and +vigorous-looking--had thrown himself in a chair beside the study fire, +after a glance around the handsome and familiar room. For the house had +belonged to a brother millionaire; it had changed hands with certain +shares of “Water Front,”--as some of Rushbrook's dealings had the true +barbaric absence of money detail,--and was elegantly and tastefully +furnished. The cuckoo had, however, already laid a few characteristic +eggs in this adopted nest, and a white marble statue of a nude and +ill-fed Virtue, sent over by Rushbrook's Paris agent, and unpacked +that morning, stood in one corner, and materially brought down the +temperature. A Japanese praying-throne of pure ivory, and, above it, a +few yards of improper, colored exposure by an old master, equalized each +other. + +“And what is all this affair about the dinner?” suddenly asked a +tartly-pitched female voice with a foreign accent. + +Mr. Leyton turned quickly, and was just conscious of a faint shriek, the +rustle of a skirt, and the swift vanishing of a woman's figure from the +doorway. Mr. Leyton turned red. Rushbrook lived en garcon, with feminine +possibilities; Leyton was a married man and a deacon. The incident +which, to a man of the world, would have brought only a smile, fired the +inexperienced Leyton with those exaggerated ideas and intense credulity +regarding vice common to some very good men. He walked on tip-toe to the +door, and peered into the passage. At that moment Rushbrook entered from +the opposite door of the room. + +“Well,” said Rushbrook, with his usual practical directness, “what do +you think of her?” + +Leyton, still flushed, and with eyebrows slightly knit, said, awkwardly, +that he had scarcely seen her. + +“She cost me already ten thousand dollars, and I suppose I'll have +to eventually fix up a separate room for her somewhere,” continued +Rushhrook. + +“I should certainly advise it,” said Leyton, quickly, “for really, +Rushbrook, you know that something is due to the respectable people who +come here, and any of them are likely to see”-- + +“Ah!” interrupted Rushbrook, seriously, “you think she hasn't got on +clothes enough. Why, look here, old man--she's one of the Virtues, and +that's the rig in which they always travel. She's a 'Temperance' or a +'Charity' or a 'Resignation,' or something of that kind. You'll find her +name there in French somewhere at the foot of the marble.” + +Leyton saw his mistake, but felt--as others sometimes felt--a doubt +whether this smileless man was not inwardly laughing at him. He replied, +with a keen, rapid glance at his host:-- + +“I was referring to some woman who stood in that doorway just now, and +addressed me rather familiarly, thinking it was you.” + +“Oh, the Signora,” said Rushbrook, with undisturbed directness; “well, +you saw her at Los Osos last summer. Likely she DID think you were me.” + +The cool ignoring of any ulterior thought in Leyton's objection forced +the guest to be equally practical in his reply. + +“Yes, but the fact is that Miss Nevil had talked of coming here with me +this evening to see you on her own affairs, and it wouldn't have been +exactly the thing for her to meet that woman.” + +“She wouldn't,” said Rushbrook, promptly; “nor would YOU, if you had +gone into the parlor as Miss Nevil would have done. But look here! If +that's the reason why you didn't bring her, send for her at once; my +coachman can take a card from you; the brougham's all ready to fetch +her, and there you are. She'll see only you and me.” He was already +moving towards the bell, when Leyton stopped him. + +“No matter now. I can tell you her business, I fancy; and in fact, I +came here to speak of it, quite independently of her.” + +“That won't do, Leyton,” interrupted Rushbrook, with crisp decision. +“One or the other interview is unnecessary; it wastes time, and isn't +business. Better have her present, even if she don't say a word.” + +“Yes, but not in this matter,” responded Leyton; “it's about Somers. You +know he's been very attentive to her ever since her uncle left her here +to recruit her health, and I think she fancies him. Well, although she's +independent and her own mistress, as you know, Mrs. Leyton and I are +somewhat responsible for her acquaintance with Somers,--and for that +matter so are you; and as my wife thinks it means a marriage, we ought +to know something more positive about Somers's prospects. Now, all we +really know is that he's a great friend of yours; that you trust a good +deal to him; that he manages your social affairs; that you treat him +as a son or nephew, and it's generally believed that he's as good as +provided for by you--eh? Did you speak?” + +“No,” said Rushbrook, quietly regarding the statue as if taking its +measurement for a suitable apartment for it. “Go on.” + +“Well,” said Leyton, a little impatiently, “that's the belief everybody +has, and you've not contradicted it. And on that we've taken the +responsibility of not interfering with Somers's attentions.” + +“Well?” said Rushbrook, interrogatively. + +“Well,” replied Leyton, emphatically, “you see I must ask you positively +if you HAVE done anything, or are you going to do anything for him?” + +“Well,” replied Rushbrook, with exasperating coolness, “what do you call +this marriage?” + +“I don't understand you,” said Leyton. + +“Look here, Leyton,” said Rushbrook, suddenly and abruptly facing him; +“Jack Somers has brains, knowledge of society, tact, accomplishments, +and good looks: that's HIS capital as much as mine is money. I employ +him: that's his advertisement, recommendation, and credit. Now, on the +strength of this, as you say, Miss Nevil is willing to invest in him; I +don't see what more can be done.” + +“But if her uncle don't think it enough?” + +“She's independent, and has money for both.” + +“But if she thinks she's been deceived, and changes her mind?” + +“Leyton, you don't know Miss Nevil. Whatever that girl undertakes she's +weighed fully, and goes through with. If she's trusted him enough to +marry him, money won't stop her; if she thinks she's been deceived, +YOU'LL never know it.” + +The enthusiasm and conviction were so unlike Rushbrook's usual cynical +toleration of the sex that Leyton stared at him. + +“That's odd,” he returned. “That's what she says of you.” + +“Of ME; you mean Somers?” + +“No, of YOU. Come, Rushbrook, don't pretend you don't know that +Miss Nevil is a great partisan of yours, swears by you, says you're +misunderstood by people, and, what's infernally odd in a woman who don't +belong to the class you fancy, don't talk of your habits. That's why she +wants to consult you about Somers, I suppose, and that's why, knowing +you might influence her, I came here first to warn you.” + +“And I've told you that whatever I might say or do wouldn't influence +her. So we'll drop the subject.” + +“Not yet; for you're bound to see Miss Nevil sooner or later. Now, if +she knows that you've done nothing for this man, your friend and her +lover, won't she be justified in thinking that you would have a reason +for it?” + +“Yes. I should give it.” + +“What reason?” + +“That I knew she'd be more contented to have him speculate with HER +money than mine.” + +“Then you think that he isn't a business man?” + +“I think that she thinks so, or she wouldn't marry him; it's part of the +attraction. But come, James has been for five minutes discreetly waiting +outside the door to tell us dinner is ready, and the coast clear of all +other company. But look here,” he said, suddenly stopping, with his arm +in Leyton's, “you're through your talk, I suppose; perhaps you'd rather +we'd dine with the Signora and the others than alone?” + +For an instant Leyton thrilled with the fascination of what he firmly +believed was a guilty temptation. Rushbrook, perceiving his hesitation, +added:-- + +“By the way, Somers is of the party, and one or two others you know.” + +Mr. Leyton opened his eyes widely at this; either the temptation had +passed, or the idea of being seen in doubtful company by a younger man +was distasteful, for he hurriedly disclaimed any preference. “But,” he +added with half-significant politeness, “perhaps I'm keeping YOU from +them?” + +“It makes not the slightest difference to me,” calmly returned +Rushbrook, with such evident truthfulness that Leyton was both convinced +and chagrined. + +Preceded by the grave and ubiquitous James, they crossed the large hall, +and entered through a smaller passage a charming apartment hung +with blue damask, which might have been a boudoir, study, or small +reception-room, yet had the air of never having been anything +continuously. It would seem that Rushbrook's habit of “camping out” in +different parts of his mansion obtained here as at Los Osos, and with +the exception of a small closet which contained his Spartan bed, the +rooms were used separately or in suites, as occasion or his friends +required. It is recorded that an Eastern guest, newly arrived with +letters to Rushbrook, after a tedious journey, expressed himself pleased +with this same blue room, in which he had sumptuously dined with his +host, and subsequently fell asleep in his chair. Without disturbing his +guest, Rushbrook had the table removed, a bed, washstand, and bureau +brought in, the sleeping man delicately laid upon the former, and left +to awaken to an Arabian night's realization of his wish. + + +CHAPTER V + + +James had barely disposed of his master and Mr. Leyton, and left them +to the ministrations of two of his underlings, before he was confronted +with one of those difficult problems that it was part of his functions +to solve. The porter informed him that a young lady had just driven up +in a carriage ostensibly to see Mr. Rushbrook, and James, descending to +the outer vestibule, found himself face to face with Miss Grace +Nevil. Happily, that young lady, with her usual tact, spared him some +embarrassment. + +“Oh! James,” she said sweetly, “do you think that I could see Mr. +Rushbrook for a few moments IF I WAITED FOR THE OPPORTUNITY? You +understand, I don't wish to disturb him or his company by being +regularly announced.” + +The young girl's practical intelligence appeared to increase the usual +respect which James had always shown her. “I understand, miss.” He +thought for a moment, and said: “Would you mind, then, following me +where you could wait quietly and alone?” As she quickly assented, he +preceded her up the staircase, past the study and drawing-room, which +he did not enter, and stopped before a small door at the end of the +passage. Then, handing her a key which he took from his pocket, he said: +“This is the only room in the house that is strictly reserved for Mr. +Rushbrook, and even he rarely uses it. You can wait here without anybody +knowing it until I can communicate with him and bring you to his study +unobserved. And,” he hesitated, “if you wouldn't mind locking the door +when you are in, miss, you would be more secure, and I will knock when I +come for you.” + +Grace Nevil smiled at the man's prudence, and entered the room. But +to her great surprise, she had scarcely shut the door when she was +instantly struck with a singular memory which the apartment recalled. +It was exactly like the room she had altered in Rushbrook's villa at Los +Osos! More than that, on close examination it proved to be the very same +furniture, arranged as she remembered to have arranged it, even to the +flowers and grasses, now, alas! faded and withered on the walls. There +could be no mistake. There was the open ebony escritoire with the +satin blotter open, and its leaves still bearing the marks of her own +handwriting. So complete to her mind was the idea of her own tenancy in +this bachelor's mansion, that she looked around with a half indignant +alarm for the photograph or portrait of herself that might further +indicate it. But there was no other exposition. The only thing that had +been added was a gilt legend on the satin case of the blotter,--“Los +Osos, August 20, 186-,” the day she had occupied the room. + +She was pleased, astonished, but more than all, disturbed. The only man +who might claim a right to this figurative possession of her tastes +and habits was the one whom she had quietly, reflectively, and +understandingly half accepted as her lover, and on whose account she had +come to consult Rushbrook. But Somers was not a sentimentalist; in +fact, as a young girl, forced by her independent position to somewhat +critically scrutinize masculine weaknesses, this had always been a point +in his favor; yet even if he had joined with his friend Rushbrook to +perpetuate the memory of their first acquaintanceship, his taste merely +would not have selected a chambre de garcon in Mr. Rushbrook's home for +its exhibition. Her conception of the opposite characters of the two men +was singularly distinct and real, and this momentary confusion of them +was disagreeable to her woman's sense. But at this moment James came to +release her and conduct her to Rushbrook's study, where he would join +her at once. Everything had been arranged as she had wished. + +Even a more practical man than Rushbrook might have lingered over the +picture of the tall, graceful figure of Miss Nevil, quietly enthroned in +a large armchair by the fire, her scarlet, satin-lined cloak thrown over +its back, and her chin resting on her hand. But the millionaire +walked directly towards her with his usual frankness of conscious but +restrained power, and she felt, as she always did, perfectly at her +ease in his presence. Even as she took his outstretched hand, its +straightforward grasp seemed to endow her with its own confidence. + +“You'll excuse my coming here so abruptly,” she smiled, “but I wanted +to get before Mr. Leyton, who, I believe, wishes to see you on the same +business as myself.” + +“He is here already, and dining with me,” said Rushbrook. + +“Ah! does he know I am here?” asked the girl, quietly. + +“No; as he said you had thought of coming with him and didn't, I +presumed you didn't care to have him know you had come alone.” + +“Not exactly that, Mr. Rushbrook,” she said, fixing her beautiful eyes +on him in bright and trustful confidence, “but I happen to have a fuller +knowledge of this business than he has, and yet, as it is not altogether +my own secret, I was not permitted to divulge it to him. Nor would I +tell it to you, only I cannot bear that you should think that I +had anything to do with this wretched inquisition into Mr. Somers's +prospects. Knowing as well as you do how perfectly independent I am, you +would think it strange, wouldn't you? But you would think it still +more surprising when you found out that I and my uncle already know how +liberally and generously you had provided for Mr. Somers in the future.” + +“How I had provided for Mr. Somers in the future?” repeated Mr. +Rushbrook, looking at the fire, “eh?” + +“Yes,” said the young girl, indifferently, “how you were to put him in +to succeed you in the Water Front Trust, and all that. He told it to +me and my uncle at the outset of our acquaintance, confidentially, of +course, and I dare say with an honorable delicacy that was like him, +but--I suppose now you will think me foolish--all the while I'd rather +he had not.” + +“You'd rather he had not,” repeated Mr. Rushbrook, slowly. + +“Yes,” continued Grace, leaning forward with her rounded elbows on her +knees, and her slim, arched feet on the fender. “Now you are going +to laugh at me, Mr. Rushbrook, but all this seemed to me to spoil any +spontaneous feeling I might have towards him, and limit my independence +in a thing that should be a matter of free will alone. It seemed too +much like a business proposition! There, my kind friend!” she added, +looking up and trying to read his face with a half girlish pout, +followed, however, by a maturer sigh, “I'm bothering you with a woman's +foolishness instead of talking business. And”--another sigh--“I suppose +it IS business for my uncle, who has, it seems, bought into this Trust +on these possible contingencies, has, perhaps, been asking questions +of Mr. Leyton. But I don't want you to think that I approve of them, or +advise your answering them. But you are not listening.” + +“I had forgotten something,” said Rushbrook, with an odd preoccupation. +“Excuse me a moment--I will return at once.” + +He left the room quite as abstractedly, and when he reached the passage, +he apparently could not remember what he had forgotten, as he walked +deliberately to the end window, where, with his arms folded behind his +back, he remained looking out into the street. A passer-by, glancing +up, might have said he had seen the pale, stern ghost of Mr. Rushbrook, +framed like a stony portrait in the window. But he presently turned +away, and re-entered the room, going up to Grace, who was still sitting +by the fire, in his usual strong and direct fashion. + +“Well! Now let me see what you want. I think this would do.” + +He took a seat at his open desk, and rapidly wrote a few lines. + +“There,” he continued, “when you write to your uncle, inclose that.” + +Grace took it, and read:-- + + +DEAR MISS NEVIL,--Pray assure your uncle from me that I am quite +ready to guarantee, in any form that he may require, the undertaking +represented to him by Mr. John Somers. Yours very truly, + +ROBERT RUSHBROOK. + + +A quick flush mounted to the young girl's cheeks. “But this is a +SECURITY, Mr. Rushbrook,” she said proudly, handing him back the paper, +“and my uncle does not require that. Nor shall I insult him or you by +sending it.” + +“It is BUSINESS, Miss Nevil,” said Rushbrook, gravely. He stopped, and +fixed his eyes upon her animated face and sparkling eyes. “You can send +it to him or not, as you like. But”--a rare smile came to his handsome +mouth--“as this is a letter to YOU, you must not insult ME by not +accepting it.” + +Replying to his smile rather than the words that accompanied it, Miss +Nevil smiled, too. Nevertheless, she was uneasy and disturbed. The +interview, whatever she might have vaguely expected from it, had +resolved itself simply into a business indorsement of her lover, which +she had not sought, and which gave her no satisfaction. Yet there was +the same potent and indefinably protecting presence before her which she +had sought, but whose omniscience and whose help she seemed to have lost +the spell and courage to put to the test. He relieved her in his abrupt +but not unkindly fashion. “Well, when is it to be?” + +“It?” + +“Your marriage.” + +“Oh, not for some time. There's no hurry.” + +It might have struck the practical Mr. Rushbrook that, even considered +as a desirable business affair, the prospective completion of +this contract provoked neither frank satisfaction nor conventional +dissimulation on the part of the young lady, for he regarded her calm +but slightly wearied expression fixedly. But he only said: “Then I shall +say nothing of this interview to Mr. Leyton?” + +“As you please. It really matters little. Indeed, I suppose I was rather +foolish in coming at all, and wasting your valuable time for nothing.” + +She had risen, as if taking his last question in the significance of a +parting suggestion, and was straightening her tall figure, preparatory +to putting on her cloak. As she reached it, he stepped forward, and +lifted it from the chair to assist her. The act was so unprecedented, as +Mr. Rushbrook never indulged in those minor masculine courtesies, that +she was momentarily as confused as a younger girl at the gallantry of a +younger man. In their previous friendship he had seldom drawn near her +except to shake her hand--a circumstance that had always recurred to her +when his free and familiar life had been the subject of gossip. But she +now had a more frightened consciousness that her nerves were strangely +responding to his powerful propinquity, and she involuntarily contracted +her pretty shoulders as he gently laid the cloak upon them. Yet even +when the act was completed, she had a superstitious instinct that the +significance of this rare courtesy was that it was final, and that +he had helped her to interpose something that shut him out from her +forever. + +She was turning away with a heightened color, when the sound of light, +hurried footsteps, and the rustle of a woman's dress was heard in the +hall. A swift recollection of her companion's infelicitous reputation +now returned to her, and Grace Nevil, with a slight stiffening of her +whole frame, became coldly herself again. Mr. Rushbrook betrayed neither +surprise nor agitation. Begging her to wait a moment until he could +arrange for her to pass to her carriage unnoticed, he left the room. + +Yet it seemed that the cause of the disturbance was unsuspected by Mr. +Rushbrook. Mr. Leyton, although left to the consolation of cigars and +liquors in the blue room, had become slightly weary of his companion's +prolonged absence. Satisfied in his mind that Rushbrook had joined +the gayer party, and that he was even now paying gallant court to the +Signora, he became again curious and uneasy. At last the unmistakable +sound of whispering voices in the passage got the better of his sense of +courtesy as a guest, and he rose from his seat, and slightly opened the +door. As he did so the figures of a man and woman, conversing in earnest +whispers, passed the opening. The man's arm was round the woman's +waist; the woman was--as he had suspected--the one who had stood in the +doorway, the Signora--but--the man was NOT Rushbrook. Mr. Leyton drew +back this time in unaffected horror. It was none other than Jack Somers! + +Some warning instinct must at that moment have struck the woman, for +with a stifled cry she disengaged herself from Somers's arm, and dashed +rapidly down the hall. Somers, evidently unaware of the cause, stood +irresolute for a moment, and then more silently but swiftly disappeared +into a side corridor as if to intercept her. It was the rapid passage of +the Signora that had attracted the attention of Grace and Rushbrook in +the study, and it was the moment after it that Mr. Rushbrook left. + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Vaguely uneasy, and still perplexed with her previous agitation, as Mr. +Rushbrook closed the door behind him, Grace, following some feminine +instinct rather than any definite reason, walked to the door and placed +her hand upon the lock to prevent any intrusion until he returned. +Her caution seemed to be justified a moment later, for a heavier but +stealthier footstep halted outside. The handle of the door was turned, +but she resisted it with the fullest strength of her small hand until a +voice, which startled her, called in a hurried whisper:-- + +“Open quick, 'tis I.” + +She stepped back quickly, flung the door open, and beheld Somers on the +threshold! + +The astonishment, agitation, and above all, the awkward confusion of +this usually self-possessed and ready man, was so unlike him, and withal +so painful, that Grace hurried to put an end to it, and for an instant +forgot her own surprise at seeing him. She smiled assuringly, and +extended her hand. + +“Grace--Miss Nevil--I beg your pardon--I didn't imagine”--he began with +a forced laugh. “I mean, of course--I cannot--but”--He stopped, and then +assuming a peculiar expression, said: “But what are YOU doing here?” + +At any other moment the girl would have resented the tone, which was +as new to her as his previous agitation, but in her present +self-consciousness her situation seemed to require some explanation. +“I came here,” she said, “to see Mr. Rushbrook on business. Your +business--OUR business,” she added, with a charming smile, using for the +first time the pronoun that seemed to indicate their unity and interest, +and yet fully aware of a vague insincerity in doing so. + +“Our BUSINESS?” he repeated, ignoring her gentler meaning with a changed +emphasis and a look of suspicion. + +“Yes,” said Grace, a little impatiently. “Mr. Leyton thought he ought +to write to my uncle something positive as to your prospects with Mr. +Rushbrook, and”-- + +“You came here to inquire?” said the young man, sharply. + +“I came here to stop any inquiry,” said Grace, indignantly. “I came +here to say I was satisfied with what you had confided to me of Mr. +Rushbrook's generosity, and that was enough!” + +“With what I had confided to you? You dared say that?” + +Grace stopped, and instantly faced him. But any indignation she might +have felt at his speech and manner was swallowed up in the revulsion and +horror that overtook her with the sudden revelation she saw in his +white and frightened face. Leyton's strange inquiry, Rushbrook's cold +composure and scornful acceptance of her own credulousness, came to her +in a flash of shameful intelligence. Somers had lied! The insufferable +meanness of it! A lie, whose very uselessness and ignobility had +defeated its purpose--a lie that implied the basest suspicion of her +own independence and truthfulness--such a lie now stood out as plainly +before her as his guilty face. + +“Forgive my speaking so rudely,” he said with a forced smile and attempt +to recover his self-control, “but you have ruined me unless you deny +that I told you anything. It was a joke--an extravagance that I had +forgotten; at least, it was a confidence between you and me that you +have foolishly violated. Say that you misunderstood me--that it was a +fancy of your own. Say anything--he trusts you--he'll believe anything +you say.” + +“He HAS believed me,” said Grace, almost fiercely, turning upon him with +the paper that Rushbrook had given her in her outstretched hand. “Read +that!” + +He read it. Had he blushed, had he stammered, had he even kept up his +former frantic and pitiable attitude, she might at that supreme moment +have forgiven him. But to her astonishment his face changed, his +handsome brow cleared, his careless, happy smile returned, his graceful +confidence came back--he stood before her the elegant, courtly, and +accomplished gentleman she had known. He returned her the paper, and +advancing with extended hand, said triumphantly:-- + +“Superb! Splendid! No one but a woman could think of that! And only one +woman achieve it. You have tricked the great Rushbrook. You are indeed +worthy of being a financier's wife!” + +“No,” she said passionately, tearing up the paper and throwing it at his +feet; “not as YOU understand it--and never YOURS! You have debased and +polluted everything connected with it, as you would have debased and +polluted ME. Out of my presence that you are insulting--out of the room +of the man whose magnanimity you cannot understand!” + +The destruction of the guarantee apparently stung him more than the +words that accompanied it. He did not relapse again into his former +shamefaced terror, but as a malignant glitter came into his eyes, he +regained his coolness. + +“It may not be so difficult for others to understand, Miss Nevil,” he +said, with polished insolence, “and as Bob Rushbrook's generosity to +pretty women is already a matter of suspicion, perhaps you are wise to +destroy that record of it.” + +“Coward!” said Grace, “stand aside and let me pass!” She swept by him +to the door. But it opened upon Rushbrook's re-entrance. He stood for +an instant glancing at the pair, and then on the fragments of the paper +that strewed the floor. Then, still holding the door in his hand, he +said quietly:-- + +“One moment before you go, Miss Nevil. If this is the result of any +misunderstanding as to the presence of another woman here, in company +with Mr. Somers, it is only fair to him to say that that woman is here +as a friend of MINE, not of his, and I alone am responsible.” + +Grace halted, and turned the cold steel of her proud eyes on the two +men. As they rested on Rushbrook they quivered slightly. “I can already +bear witness,” she said coldly, “to the generosity of Mr. Rushbrook in +a matter which then touched me. But there certainly is no necessity +for him to show it now in a matter in which I have not the slightest +concern.” + +As she swept out of the room and was received in the respectable shadow +of the waiting James, Rushbrook turned to Somers. + +“And I'M afraid it won't do--for Leyton saw you,” he said curtly. “Now, +then, shut that door, for you and I, Jack Somers, have a word to say to +each other.” + +What that word was, and how it was said and received, is not a part of +this record. But it is told that it was the beginning of that mighty +Iliad, still remembered of men, which shook the financial camps of San +Francisco, and divided them into bitter contending parties. For when it +became known the next day that Somers had suddenly abandoned Rushbrook, +and carried over to a powerful foreign capitalist the secret methods, +and even, it was believed, the LUCK of his late employer, it was certain +that there would be war to the knife, and that it was no longer a +struggle of rival enterprise, but of vindictive men. + + +CHAPTER VII + + +For a year the battle between the Somers faction and the giant but +solitary Rushbrook raged fiercely, with varying success. I grieve to say +that the proteges and parasites of Maecenas deserted him in a body; nay, +they openly alleged that it was the true artistic nature and refinement +of Somers that had always attracted them, and that a man like Rushbrook, +who bought pictures by the yard,--equally of the unknown struggling +artist and the famous masters,--was no true patron of Art. Rushbrook +made no attempt to recover his lost prestige, and once, when squeezed +into a tight “corner,” and forced to realize on his treasures, he put +them up at auction and the people called them “daubs;” their rage +knew no bounds. It was then that an unfettered press discovered that +Rushbrook never was a Maecenas at all, grimly deprecated his assumption +of that title, and even doubted if he were truly a millionaire. It was +at this time that a few stood by him--notably, the mill inventor from +Siskyou, grown plethoric with success, but eventually ground between the +upper and nether millstone of the Somers and Rushbrook party. Miss Nevil +had returned to the Atlantic States with Mrs. Leyton. While rumors +had played freely with the relations of Somers and the Signora as the +possible cause of the rupture between him and Rushbrook, no mention had +ever been made of the name of Miss Nevil. + +It was raining heavily one afternoon, when Mr. Rushbrook drove from his +office to his San Francisco house. The fierce struggle in which he was +engaged left him little time for hospitality, and for the last two weeks +his house had been comparatively deserted. He passed through the +empty rooms, changed in little except the absence of some valuable +monstrosities which had gone to replenish his capital. When he reached +his bedroom, he paused a moment at the open door. + +“James!” + +“Yes, sir,” said James, appearing out of the shadow. + +“What are you waiting for?” + +“I thought you might be wanting something, sir.” + +“You were waiting there this morning; you were in the ante-room of my +study while I was writing. You were outside the blue room while I sat +at breakfast. You were at my elbow in the drawing-room late last night. +Now, James,” continued Mr. Rushbrook, with his usual grave directness, +“I don't intend to commit suicide; I can't afford it, so keep your time +and your rest for yourself--you want it--that's a good fellow.” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“James!” + +“Yes, sir.” + +Rushbrook extended his hand. There was that faint, rare smile on his +handsome mouth, for which James would at any time have laid down his +life. But he only silently grasped his master's hand, and the two +men remained looking into each other's eyes without a word. Then Mr. +Rushbrook entered his room, lay down, and went to sleep, and James +vanished in the shadow. + +At the end of an hour Mr. Rushbrook awoke refreshed, and even James, who +came to call him, appeared to have brightened in the interval. “I have +ordered a fire, sir, in the reserved room, the one fitted up from Los +Osos, as your study has had no chance of being cleaned these two weeks. +It will be a change for you, sir. I hope you'll excuse my not waking you +to consult you about it.” + +Rushbrook remained so silent that James, fancying he had not heard him, +was about to repeat himself when his master said quickly, “Very well, +come for me there when dinner is ready,” and entered the passage leading +to the room. James did not follow him, and when Mr. Rushbrook, opening +the door, started back with an exclamation, no one but the inmate heard +the word that rose to his lips. + +For there, seated before the glow of the blazing fire, was Miss Grace +Nevil. She had evidently just arrived, for her mantle was barely +loosened around her neck, and upon the fringe of brown hair between her +bonnet and her broad, low forehead a few drops of rain still sparkled. +As she lifted her long lashes quickly towards the door, it seemed as +if they, too, had caught a little of that moisture. Rushbrook moved +impatiently forward, and then stopped. Grace rose unhesitatingly to her +feet, and met him half-way with frankly outstretched hands. “First of +all,” she said, with a half nervous laugh, “don't scold James; it's all +my fault; I forbade him to announce me, lest you should drive me away, +for I heard that during this excitement you came here for rest, and saw +no one. Even the intrusion into this room is all my own. I confess now +that I saw it the last night I was here; I was anxious to know if it was +unchanged, and made James bring me here. I did not understand it then. I +do now--and--thank you.” + +Her face must have shown that she was conscious that he was still +holding her hand, for he suddenly released it. With a heightened color +and a half girlish naivete, that was the more charming for its contrast +with her tall figure and air of thoroughbred repose, she turned back to +her chair, and lightly motioned him to take the one before her. “I am +here on BUSINESS; otherwise I should not have dared to look in upon you +at all.” + +She stopped, drew off her gloves with a provoking deliberation, which +was none the less fascinating that it implied a demure consciousness of +inducing some impatience in the breast of her companion, stretched them +out carefully by the fingers, laid them down neatly on the table, +placed her elbows on her knees, slightly clasped her hands together, and +bending forward, lifted her honest, handsome eyes to the man before her. + +“Mr. Rushbrook, I have got between four and five hundred thousand +dollars that I have no use for; I can control securities which can be +converted, if necessary, into a hundred thousand more in ten days. I am +free and my own mistress. It is generally considered that I know what I +am about--you admitted as much when I was your pupil. I have come here +to place this sum in your hands, at your free disposal. You know why and +for what purpose.” + +“But what do you know of my affairs?” asked Rushbrook, quickly. + +“Everything, and I know YOU, which is better. Call it an investment if +you like--for I know you will succeed--and let me share your profits. +Call it--if you please--restitution, for I am the miserable cause of +your rupture with that man. Or call it revenge if you like,” she said +with a faint smile, “and let me fight at your side against our common +enemy! Please, Mr. Rushbrook, don't deny me this. I have come three +thousand miles for it; I could have sent it to you--or written--but I +feared you would not understand it. You are smiling--you will take it?” + +“I cannot,” said Rushbrook, gravely. + +“Then you force me to go into the Stock Market myself, and fight for +you, and, unaided by YOUR genius, perhaps lose it without benefiting +you.” + +Rushbrook did not reply. + +“At least, then, tell me why you 'cannot.'” + +Rushbrook rose, and looking into her face, said quietly with his old +directness:-- + +“Because I love you, Miss Nevil.” + +A sudden instinct to rise and move away, a greater one to remain and +hear him speak again, and a still greater one to keep back the blood +that she felt was returning all too quickly to her cheek after the first +shock, kept her silent. But she dropped her eyes. + +“I loved you ever since I first saw you at Los Osos,” he went on +quickly; “I said to myself even then, that if there was a woman that +would fill my life, and make me what she wished me to be, it was you. I +even fancied that day that you understood me better than any woman, or +even any man, that I had ever met before. I loved you through all that +miserable business with that man, even when my failure to make you happy +with another brought me no nearer to you. I have loved you always. I +shall love you always. I love you more for this foolish kindness that +brings YOU beneath my roof once more, and gives me a chance to speak my +heart to you, if only once and for the last time, than all the fortune +that you could put at my disposal. But I could not accept what you would +offer me from any woman who was not my wife--and I could not marry +any woman that did not love me. I am perhaps past the age when I could +inspire a young girl's affection; but I have not reached the age when I +would accept anything less.” He stopped abruptly. Grace did not look +up. There was a tear glistening upon her long eyelashes, albeit a faint +smile played upon her lips. + +“Do you call this business, Mr. Rushbrook?” she said softly. + +“Business?” + +“To assume a proposal declined before it has been offered.” + +“Grace--my darling--tell me--is it possible?” + +It was too late for her to rise now, as his hands held both hers, and +his handsome mouth was smiling level with her own. So it really seemed +to a dispassionate spectator that it WAS possible, and before she had +left the room, it even appeared to be the most probable thing in the +world. + +***** + +The union of Grace Nevil and Robert Rushbrook was recorded by local +history as the crown to his victory over the Ring. But only he and his +wife knew that it was the cause. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS *** + +***** This file should be named 2867-0.txt or 2867-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/6/2867/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/2867-0.zip b/2867-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c3707df --- /dev/null +++ b/2867-0.zip diff --git a/2867-h.zip b/2867-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..05df2ef --- /dev/null +++ b/2867-h.zip diff --git a/2867-h/2867-h.htm b/2867-h/2867-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0a7af1b --- /dev/null +++ b/2867-h/2867-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7496 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Sappho of Green Springs + +Author: Bret Harte + +Release Date: May 30, 2006 [EBook #2867] +Last Updated: March 5, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Bret Harte + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> <b>THE CHATELAINE OF BURNT RIDGE</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> <b>THROUGH THE SANTA CLARA WHEAT</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0014"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> <b>A MAECENAS OF THE PACIFIC SLOPE</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER I </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER II </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER III </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0018"> CHAPTER IV </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0019"> CHAPTER V </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0020"> CHAPTER VI </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2HCH0021"> CHAPTER VII </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + </h1> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + “Come in,” said the editor. + </p> + <p> + The door of the editorial room of the “Excelsior Magazine” began to creak + painfully under the hesitating pressure of an uncertain and unfamiliar + hand. This continued until with a start of irritation the editor faced + directly about, throwing his leg over the arm of his chair with a certain + youthful dexterity. With one hand gripping its back, the other still + grasping a proof-slip, and his pencil in his mouth, he stared at the + intruder. + </p> + <p> + The stranger, despite his hesitating entrance, did not seem in the least + disconcerted. He was a tall man, looking even taller by reason of the long + formless overcoat he wore, known as a “duster,” and by a long straight + beard that depended from his chin, which he combed with two reflective + fingers as he contemplated the editor. The red dust which still lay in the + creases of his garment and in the curves of his soft felt hat, and left a + dusty circle like a precipitated halo around his feet, proclaimed him, if + not a countryman, a recent inland importation by coach. “Busy?” he said, + in a grave but pleasant voice. “I kin wait. Don't mind ME. Go on.” + </p> + <p> + The editor indicated a chair with his disengaged hand and plunged again + into his proof-slips. The stranger surveyed the scant furniture and + appointments of the office with a look of grave curiosity, and then, + taking a chair, fixed an earnest, penetrating gaze on the editor's + profile. The editor felt it, and, without looking up, said— + </p> + <p> + “Well, go on.” + </p> + <p> + “But you're busy. I kin wait.” + </p> + <p> + “I shall not be less busy this morning. I can listen.” + </p> + <p> + “I want you to give me the name of a certain person who writes in your + magazine.” + </p> + <p> + The editor's eye glanced at the second right-hand drawer of his desk. It + did not contain the names of his contributors, but what in the traditions + of his office was accepted as an equivalent,—a revolver. He had + never yet presented either to an inquirer. But he laid aside his proofs, + and, with a slight darkening of his youthful, discontented face, said, + “What do you want to know for?” + </p> + <p> + The question was so evidently unexpected that the stranger's face colored + slightly, and he hesitated. The editor meanwhile, without taking his eyes + from the man, mentally ran over the contents of the last magazine. They + had been of a singularly peaceful character. There seemed to be nothing to + justify homicide on his part or the stranger's. Yet there was no knowing, + and his questioner's bucolic appearance by no means precluded an assault. + Indeed, it had been a legend of the office that a predecessor had suffered + vicariously from a geological hammer covertly introduced into a scientific + controversy by an irate professor. + </p> + <p> + “As we make ourselves responsible for the conduct of the magazine,” + continued the young editor, with mature severity, “we do not give up the + names of our contributors. If you do not agree with their opinions”— + </p> + <p> + “But I DO,” said the stranger, with his former composure, “and I reckon + that's why I want to know who wrote those verses called 'Underbrush,' + signed 'White Violet,' in your last number. They're pow'ful pretty.” + </p> + <p> + The editor flushed slightly, and glanced instinctively around for any + unexpected witness of his ludicrous mistake. The fear of ridicule was + uppermost in his mind, and he was more relieved at his mistake not being + overheard than at its groundlessness. + </p> + <p> + “The verses ARE pretty,” he said, recovering himself, with a critical air, + “and I am glad you like them. But even then, you know, I could not give + you the lady's name without her permission. I will write to her and ask + it, if you like.” + </p> + <p> + The actual fact was that the verses had been sent to him anonymously from + a remote village in the Coast Range,—the address being the + post-office and the signature initials. + </p> + <p> + The stranger looked disturbed. “Then she ain't about here anywhere?” he + said, with a vague gesture. “She don't belong to the office?” + </p> + <p> + The young editor beamed with tolerant superiority: “No, I am sorry to + say.” + </p> + <p> + “I should like to have got to see her and kinder asked her a few + questions,” continued the stranger, with the same reflective seriousness. + “You see, it wasn't just the rhymin' o' them verses,—and they kinder + sing themselves to ye, don't they?—it wasn't the chyce o' words,—and + I reckon they allus hit the idee in the centre shot every time,—it + wasn't the idees and moral she sort o' drew out o' what she was tellin',—but + it was the straight thing itself,—the truth!” + </p> + <p> + “The truth?” repeated the editor. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I've bin there. I've seen all that she's seen in the brush—the + little flicks and checkers o' light and shadder down in the brown dust + that you wonder how it ever got through the dark of the woods, and that + allus seems to slip away like a snake or a lizard if you grope. I've heard + all that she's heard there—the creepin', the sighin', and the + whisperin' through the bracken and the ground-vines of all that lives + there.” + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be a poet yourself,” said the editor, with a patronizing + smile. + </p> + <p> + “I'm a lumberman, up in Mendocino,” returned the stranger, with sublime + naivete. “Got a mill there. You see, sightin' standin' timber and + selectin' from the gen'ral show of the trees in the ground and the lay of + roots hez sorter made me take notice.” He paused. “Then,” he added, + somewhat despondingly, “you don't know who she is?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the editor, reflectively; “not even if it is really a WOMAN who + writes.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you see, 'White Violet' may as well be the nom de plume of a man as + of a woman, especially if adopted for the purpose of mystification. The + handwriting, I remember, WAS more boyish than feminine.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” returned the stranger doggedly, “it wasn't no MAN. There's ideas and + words there that only come from a woman: baby-talk to the birds, you know, + and a kind of fearsome keer of bugs and creepin' things that don't come to + a man who wears boots and trousers. Well,” he added, with a return to his + previous air of resigned disappointment, “I suppose you don't even know + what she's like?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” responded the editor, cheerfully. Then, following an idea suggested + by the odd mingling of sentiment and shrewd perception in the man before + him, he added: “Probably not at all like anything you imagine. She may be + a mother with three or four children; or an old maid who keeps a + boarding-house; or a wrinkled school-mistress; or a chit of a school-girl. + I've had some fair verses from a red-haired girl of fourteen at the + Seminary,” he concluded with professional coolness. + </p> + <p> + The stranger regarded him with the naive wonder of an inexperienced man. + Having paid this tribute to his superior knowledge, he regained his + previous air of grave perception. “I reckon she ain't none of them. But + I'm keepin' you from your work. Good-by. My name's Bowers—Jim + Bowers, of Mendocino. If you're up my way, give me a call. And if you do + write to this yer 'White Violet,' and she's willin', send me her address.” + </p> + <p> + He shook the editor's hand warmly—even in its literal significance + of imparting a good deal of his own earnest caloric to the editor's + fingers—and left the room. His footfall echoed along the passage and + died out, and with it, I fear, all impression of his visit from the + editor's mind, as he plunged again into the silent task before him. + </p> + <p> + Presently he was conscious of a melodious humming and a light leisurely + step at the entrance of the hall. They continued on in an easy harmony and + unaffected as the passage of a bird. Both were pleasant and both familiar + to the editor. They belonged to Jack Hamlin, by vocation a gambler, by + taste a musician, on his way from his apartments on the upper floor, where + he had just risen, to drop into his friend's editorial room and glance + over the exchanges, as was his habit before breakfast. + </p> + <p> + The door opened lightly. The editor was conscious of a faint odor of + scented soap, a sensation of freshness and cleanliness, the impression of + a soft hand like a woman's on his shoulder and, like a woman's, + momentarily and playfully caressing, the passage of a graceful shadow + across his desk, and the next moment Jack Hamlin was ostentatiously + dusting a chair with an open newspaper preparatory to sitting down. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to ship that office-boy of yours, if he can't keep things + cleaner,” he said, suspending his melody to eye grimly the dust which Mr. + Bowers had shaken from his departing feet. + </p> + <p> + The editor did not look up until he had finished revising a difficult + paragraph. By that time Mr. Hamlin had comfortably settled himself on a + cane sofa, and, possibly out of deference to his surroundings, had subdued + his song to a peculiarly low, soft, and heartbreaking whistle as he + unfolded a newspaper. Clean and faultless in his appearance, he had the + rare gift of being able to get up at two in the afternoon with much of the + dewy freshness and all of the moral superiority of an early riser. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to have been here just now, Jack,” said the editor. + </p> + <p> + “Not a row, old man, eh?” inquired Jack, with a faint accession of + interest. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the editor, smiling. Then he related the incidents of the + previous interview, with a certain humorous exaggeration which was part of + his nature. But Jack did not smile. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to have booted him out of the ranch on sight,” he said. “What + right had he to come here prying into a lady's affairs?—at least a + lady as far as HE knows. Of course she's some old blowzy with frumpled + hair trying to rope in a greenhorn with a string of words and phrases,” + concluded Jack, carelessly, who had an equally cynical distrust of the sex + and of literature. + </p> + <p> + “That's about what I told him,” said the editor. + </p> + <p> + “That's just what you SHOULDN'T have told him,” returned Jack. “You ought + to have stuck up for that woman as if she'd been your own mother. Lord! + you fellows don't know how to run a magazine. You ought to let ME sit on + that chair and tackle your customers.” + </p> + <p> + “What would you have done, Jack?” asked the editor, much amused to find + that his hitherto invincible hero was not above the ordinary human + weakness of offering advice as to editorial conduct. + </p> + <p> + “Done?” reflected Jack. “Well, first, sonny, I shouldn't keep a revolver + in a drawer that I had to OPEN to get at.” + </p> + <p> + “But what would you have said?” + </p> + <p> + “I should simply have asked him what was the price of lumber at + Mendocino,” said Jack, sweetly, “and when he told me, I should have said + that the samples he was offering out of his own head wouldn't suit. You + see, you don't want any trifling in such matters. You write well enough, + my boy,” continued he, turning over his paper, “but what you're lacking in + is editorial dignity. But go on with your work. Don't mind me.” + </p> + <p> + Thus admonished, the editor again bent over his desk, and his friend + softly took up his suspended song. The editor had not proceeded far in his + corrections when Jack's voice again broke the silence. + </p> + <p> + “Where are those d——d verses, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + Without looking up, the editor waved his pencil towards an uncut copy of + the “Excelsior Magazine” lying on the table. + </p> + <p> + “You don't suppose I'm going to READ them, do you?” said Jack, + aggrievedly. “Why don't you say what they're about? That's your business + as editor.” + </p> + <p> + But that functionary, now wholly lost and wandering in the non-sequitur of + an involved passage in the proof before him, only waved an impatient + remonstrance with his pencil and knit his brows. Jack, with a sigh, took + up the magazine. + </p> + <p> + A long silence followed, broken only by the hurried rustling of sheets of + copy and an occasional exasperated start from the editor. The sun was + already beginning to slant a dusty beam across his desk; Jack's whistling + had long since ceased. Presently, with an exclamation of relief, the + editor laid aside the last proof-sheet and looked up. + </p> + <p> + Jack Hamlin had closed the magazine, but with one hand thrown over the + back of the sofa he was still holding it, his slim forefinger between its + leaves to keep the place, and his handsome profile and dark lashes lifted + towards the window. The editor, smiling at this unwonted abstraction, said + quietly,— + </p> + <p> + “Well, what do you think of them?” + </p> + <p> + Jack rose, laid the magazine down, settled his white waistcoat with both + hands, and lounged towards his friend with audacious but slightly veiled + and shining eyes. “They sort of sing themselves to you,” he said, quietly, + leaning beside the editor's desk, and looking down upon him. After a pause + he said, “Then you don't know what she's like?” + </p> + <p> + “That's what Mr. Bowers asked me,” remarked the editor. + </p> + <p> + “D—n Bowers!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you also wish me to write and ask for permission to give you + her address?” said the editor, with great gravity. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Jack, coolly. “I propose to give it to YOU within a week, and + you will pay me with a breakfast. I should like to have it said that I was + once a paid contributor to literature. If I don't give it to you, I'll + stand you a dinner, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “Done!” said the editor. “And you know nothing of her now?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Jack, promptly. “Nor you?” + </p> + <p> + “No more than I have told you.” + </p> + <p> + “That'll do. So long!” And Jack, carefully adjusting his glossy hat over + his curls at an ominously wicked angle, sauntered lightly from the room. + The editor, glancing after his handsome figure and hearing him take up his + pretermitted whistle as he passed out, began to think that the contingent + dinner was by no means an inevitable prospect. + </p> + <p> + Howbeit, he plunged once more into his monotonous duties. But the + freshness of the day seemed to have departed with Jack, and the later + interruptions of foreman and publisher were of a more practical character. + It was not until the post arrived that the superscription on one of the + letters caught his eye, and revived his former interest. It was the same + hand as that of his unknown contributor's manuscript—ill-formed and + boyish. He opened the envelope. It contained another poem with the same + signature, but also a note—much longer than the brief lines that + accompanied the first contribution—was scrawled upon a separate + piece of paper. This the editor opened first, and read the following, with + an amazement that for the moment dominated all other sense:— + </p> + <p> + MR. EDITOR,—I see you have got my poetry in. But I don't see the + spondulix that oughter follow. Perhaps you don't know where to send it. + Then I'll tell you. Send the money to Lock Box 47, Green Springs P. O., + per Wells Fargo's Express, and I'll get it there, on account of my parents + not knowing. We're very high-toned, and they would think it's low making + poetry for papers. Send amount usually paid for poetry in your papers. Or + may be you think I make poetry for nothing? That's where you slip up! + </p> + <p> + Yours truly, + </p> + <p> + WHITE VIOLET. + </p> + <p> + P. S.—If you don't pay for poetry, send this back. It's as good as + what you did put in, and is just as hard to make. You hear me? that's me—all + the time. + </p> + <p> + WHITE VIOLET. + </p> + <p> + The editor turned quickly to the new contribution for some corroboration + of what he felt must be an extraordinary blunder. But no! The few lines + that he hurriedly read breathed the same atmosphere of intellectual + repose, gentleness, and imagination as the first contribution. And yet + they were in the same handwriting as the singular missive, and both were + identical with the previous manuscript. + </p> + <p> + Had he been the victim of a hoax, and were the verses not original? No; + they were distinctly original, local in color, and even local in the use + of certain old English words that were common in the Southwest. He had + before noticed the apparent incongruity of the handwriting and the text, + and it was possible that for the purposes of disguise the poet might have + employed an amanuensis. But how could he reconcile the incongruity of the + mercenary and slangy purport of the missive itself with the mental habit + of its author? Was it possible that these inconsistent qualities existed + in the one individual? He smiled grimly as he thought of his visitor + Bowers and his friend Jack. He was startled as he remembered the purely + imaginative picture he had himself given to the seriously interested + Bowers of the possible incongruous personality of the poetess. + </p> + <p> + Was he quite fair in keeping this from Jack? Was it really honorable, in + view of their wager? It is to be feared that a very human enjoyment of + Jack's possible discomfiture quite as much as any chivalrous friendship + impelled the editor to ring eventually for the office-boy. + </p> + <p> + “See if Mr. Hamlin is in his rooms.” + </p> + <p> + The editor then sat down, and wrote rapidly as follows:— + </p> + <p> + DEAR MADAM,—You are as right as you are generous in supposing that + only ignorance of your address prevented the manager from previously + remitting the honorarium for your beautiful verses. He now begs to send it + to you in the manner you have indicated. As the verses have attracted + deserved attention, I have been applied to for your address. Should you + care to submit it to me to be used at my discretion, I shall feel honored + by your confidence. But this is a matter left entirely to your own + kindness and better judgment. Meantime, I take pleasure in accepting + “White Violet's” present contribution, and remain, dear madam, your + obedient servant, + </p> + <p> + THE EDITOR. + </p> + <p> + The boy returned as he was folding the letter. Mr. Hamlin was not only NOT + in his rooms, but, according to his negro servant Pete, had left town an + hour ago for a few days in the country. + </p> + <p> + “Did he say where?” asked the editor, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir: he didn't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well. Take this to the manager.” He addressed the letter, and, + scrawling a few hieroglyphics on a memorandum-tag, tore it off, and handed + it with the letter to the boy. + </p> + <p> + An hour later he stood in the manager's office. “The next number is pretty + well made up,” he said, carelessly, “and I think of taking a day or two + off.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said the manager. “It will do you good. Where do you think + you'll go?” + </p> + <p> + “I haven't quite made up my mind.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + “Hullo!” said Jack Hamlin. + </p> + <p> + He had halted his mare at the edge of an abrupt chasm. It did not appear + to be fifty feet across, yet its depth must have been nearly two hundred + to where the hidden mountain-stream, of which it was the banks, + alternately slipped, tumbled, and fell with murmuring and monotonous + regularity. One or two pine-trees growing on the opposite edge, loosened + at the roots, had tilted their straight shafts like spears over the abyss, + and the top of one, resting on the upper branches of a sycamore a few + yards from him, served as an aerial bridge for the passage of a boy of + fourteen to whom Mr. Hamlin's challenge was addressed. + </p> + <p> + The boy stopped midway in his perilous transit, and, looking down upon the + horseman, responded, coolly, “Hullo, yourself!” + </p> + <p> + “Is that the only way across this infernal hole, or the one you prefer for + exercise?” continued Hamlin, gravely. + </p> + <p> + The boy sat down on a bough, allowing his bare feet to dangle over the + dizzy depths, and critically examined his questioner. Jack had on this + occasion modified his usual correct conventional attire by a tasteful + combination of a vaquero's costume, and, in loose white bullion-fringed + trousers, red sash, jacket, and sombrero, looked infinitely more dashing + and picturesque than his original. Nevertheless, the boy did not reply. + Mr. Hamlin's pride in his usual ascendency over women, children, horses, + and all unreasoning animals was deeply nettled. He smiled, however, and + said, quietly,— + </p> + <p> + “Come here, George Washington. I want to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + Without rejecting this august yet impossible title, the boy presently + lifted his feet, and carelessly resumed his passage across the chasm + until, reaching the sycamore, he began to let himself down squirrel-wise, + leap by leap, with an occasional trapeze swinging from bough to bough, + dropping at last easily to the ground. Here he appeared to be rather + good-looking, albeit the sun and air had worked a miracle of brown tan and + freckles on his exposed surfaces, until the mottling of his oval cheeks + looked like a polished bird's egg. Indeed, it struck Mr. Hamlin that he + was as intensely a part of that sylvan seclusion as the hidden brook that + murmured, the brown velvet shadows that lay like trappings on the white + flanks of his horse, the quivering heat, and the stinging spice of bay. + Mr. Hamlin had vague ideas of dryads and fauns, but at that moment would + have bet something on the chances of their survival. + </p> + <p> + “I did not hear what you said just now, general,” he remarked, with great + elegance of manner, “but I know from your reputation that it could not be + a lie. I therefore gather that there IS another way across.” + </p> + <p> + The boy smiled; rather, his very short upper lip apparently vanished + completely over his white teeth, and his very black eyes, which showed a + great deal of the white around them, danced in their orbits. + </p> + <p> + “But YOU couldn't find it,” he said, slyly. + </p> + <p> + “No more could you find the half-dollar I dropped just now, unless I + helped you.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin, by way of illustration, leaned deeply over his left stirrup, + and pointed to the ground. At the same moment a bright half-dollar + absolutely appeared to glitter in the herbage at the point of his finger. + It was a trick that had always brought great pleasure and profit to his + young friends, and some loss and discomfiture of wager to his older ones. + </p> + <p> + The boy picked up the coin: “There's a dip and a level crossing about a + mile over yer,”—he pointed,—“but it's through the woods, and + they're that high with thick bresh.” + </p> + <p> + “With what?” + </p> + <p> + “Bresh,” repeated the boy; “THAT,”—pointing to a few fronds of + bracken growing in the shadow of the sycamore. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! underbrush?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I said 'bresh,'” returned the boy, doggedly. “YOU might get through, + ef you war spry, but not your hoss. Where do you want to go, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, George,” said Mr. Hamlin, lazily throwing his right leg over + the horn of his saddle for greater ease and deliberation in replying, + “it's very odd, but that's just what I'D like to know. Now, what would + YOU, in your broad statesmanlike views of things generally, advise?” + </p> + <p> + Quite convinced of the stranger's mental unsoundness, the boy glanced + again at his half-dollar, as if to make sure of its integrity, pocketed it + doubtfully, and turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Where are you going?” said Hamlin, resuming his seat with the agility of + a circus-rider, and spurring forward. + </p> + <p> + “To Green Springs, where I live, two miles over the ridge on the far + slope,”—indicating the direction. + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said Jack, with thoughtful gravity. “Well, kindly give my love to + your sister, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “George Washington didn't have no sister,” said the boy, cunningly. + </p> + <p> + “Can I have been mistaken?” said Hamlin, lifting his hand to his forehead + with grieved accents. “Then it seems YOU have. Kindly give her my love.” + </p> + <p> + “Which one?” asked the boy, with a swift glance of mischief. “I've got + four.” + </p> + <p> + “The one that's like you,” returned Hamlin, with prompt exactitude. “Now, + where's the 'bresh' you spoke of?” + </p> + <p> + “Keep along the edge until you come to the log-slide. Foller that, and + it'll lead you into the woods. But ye won't go far, I tell ye. When you + have to turn back, instead o' comin' back here, you kin take the trail + that goes round the woods, and that'll bring ye out into the stage road + ag'in near the post-office at the Green Springs crossin' and the new + hotel. That'll be war ye'll turn up, I reckon,” he added, reflectively. + “Fellers that come yer gunnin' and fishin' gin'rally do,” he concluded, + with a half-inquisitive air. + </p> + <p> + “Ah?” said Mr. Hamlin, quietly shedding the inquiry. “Green Springs Hotel + is where the stage stops, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and at the post-office,” said the boy. “She'll be along here soon,” + he added. + </p> + <p> + “If you mean the Santa Cruz stage,” said Hamlin, “she's here already. I + passed her on the ridge half an hour ago.” + </p> + <p> + The boy gave a sudden start, and a quick uneasy expression passed over his + face. “Go 'long with ye!” he said, with a forced smile: “it ain't her time + yet.” + </p> + <p> + “But I SAW her,” repeated Hamlin, much amused. “Are you expecting company? + Hullo! Where are you off to? Come back.” + </p> + <p> + But his companion had already vanished in the thicket with the + undeliberate and impulsive act of an animal. There was a momentary rustle + in the alders fifty feet away, and then all was silent. The hidden brook + took up its monotonous murmur, the tapping of a distant woodpecker became + suddenly audible, and Mr. Hamlin was again alone. + </p> + <p> + “Wonder whether he's got parents in the stage, and has been playing truant + here,” he mused, lazily. “Looked as if he'd been up to some devilment, or + more like as if he was primed for it. If he'd been a little older, I'd + have bet he was in league with some road-agents to watch the coach. Just + my luck to have him light out as I was beginning to get some talk out of + him.” He paused, looked at his watch, and straightened himself in his + stirrups. “Four o'clock. I reckon I might as well try the woods and what + that imp calls the 'bresh;' I may strike a shanty or a native by the way.” + </p> + <p> + With this determination, Mr. Hamlin urged his horse along the faint trail + by the brink of the watercourse which the boy had just indicated. He had + no definite end in view beyond the one that had brought him the day before + to that locality—his quest of the unknown poetess. His clue would + have seemed to ordinary humanity the faintest. He had merely noted the + provincial name of a certain plant mentioned in the poem, and learned that + its habitat was limited to the southern local range; while its peculiar + nomenclature was clearly of French Creole or Gulf State origin. This gave + him a large though sparsely-populated area for locality, while it + suggested a settlement of Louisianians or Mississippians near the Summit, + of whom, through their native gambling proclivities, he was professionally + cognizant. But he mainly trusted Fortune. Secure in his faith in the + feminine character of that goddess, he relied a great deal on her + well-known weakness for scamps of his quality. + </p> + <p> + It was not long before he came to the “slide”—a lightly-cut or + shallow ditch. It descended slightly in a course that was far from + straight, at times diverging to avoid the obstacles of trees or boulders, + at times shaving them so closely as to leave smooth abrasions along their + sides made by the grinding passage of long logs down the incline. The + track itself was slippery from this, and preoccupied all Hamlin's skill as + a horseman, even to the point of stopping his usual careless whistle. At + the end of half an hour the track became level again, and he was + confronted with a singular phenomenon. + </p> + <p> + He had entered the wood, and the trail seemed to cleave through a + far-stretching, motionless sea of ferns that flowed on either side to the + height of his horse's flanks. The straight shafts of the trees rose like + columns from their hidden bases and were lost again in a roof of + impenetrable leafage, leaving a clear space of fifty feet between, through + which the surrounding horizon of sky was perfectly visible. All the light + that entered this vast sylvan hall came from the sides; nothing permeated + from above; nothing radiated from below; the height of the crest on which + the wood was placed gave it this lateral illumination, but gave it also + the profound isolation of some temple raised by long-forgotten hands. In + spite of the height of these clear shafts, they seemed dwarfed by the + expanse of the wood, and in the farthest perspective the base of ferns and + the capital of foliage appeared almost to meet. As the boy had warned him, + the slide had turned aside, skirting the wood to follow the incline, and + presently the little trail he now followed vanished utterly, leaving him + and his horse adrift breast-high in this green and yellow sea of fronds. + But Mr. Hamlin, imperious of obstacles, and touched by some curiosity, + continued to advance lazily, taking the bearings of a larger red-wood in + the centre of the grove for his objective point. The elastic mass gave way + before him, brushing his knees or combing his horse's flanks with + wide-spread elfin fingers, and closing up behind him as he passed, as if + to obliterate any track by which he might return. Yet his usual luck did + not desert him here. Being on horseback, he found that he could detect + what had been invisible to the boy and probably to all pedestrians, + namely, that the growth was not equally dense, that there were certain + thinner and more open spaces that he could take advantage of by more + circuitous progression, always, however, keeping the bearings of the + central tree. This he at last reached, and halted his panting horse. Here + a new idea which had been haunting him since he entered the wood took + fuller possession of him. He had seen or known all this before! There was + a strange familiarity either in these objects or in the impression or + spell they left upon him. He remembered the verses! Yes, this was the + “underbrush” which the poetess had described: the gloom above and below, + the light that seemed blown through it like the wind, the suggestion of + hidden life beneath this tangled luxuriance, which she alone had + penetrated,—all this was here. But, more than that, here was the + atmosphere that she had breathed into the plaintive melody of her verse. + It did not necessarily follow that Mr. Hamlin's translation of her + sentiment was the correct one, or that the ideas her verses had provoked + in his mind were at all what had been hers: in his easy susceptibility he + was simply thrown into a corresponding mood of emotion and relieved + himself with song. One of the verses he had already associated in his mind + with the rhythm of an old plantation melody, and it struck his fancy to + take advantage of the solitude to try its effect. Humming to himself, at + first softly, he at last grew bolder, and let his voice drift away through + the stark pillars of the sylvan colonnade till it seemed to suffuse and + fill it with no more effort than the light which strayed in on either + side. Sitting thus, his hat thrown a little back from his clustering + curls, the white neck and shoulders of his horse uplifting him above the + crested mass of fern, his red sash the one fleck of color in their olive + depths, I am afraid he looked much more like the real minstrel of the + grove than the unknown poetess who transfigured it. But this, as has been + already indicated, was Jack Hamlin's peculiar gift. Even as he had + previously outshone the vaquero in his borrowed dress, he now silenced and + supplanted a few fluttering blue-jays—rightful tenants of the wood—with + a more graceful and airy presence and a far sweeter voice. + </p> + <p> + The open horizon towards the west had taken a warmer color from the + already slanting sun when Mr. Hamlin, having rested his horse, turned to + that direction. He had noticed that the wood was thinner there, and, + pushing forward, he was presently rewarded by the sound of far-off wheels, + and knew he must be near the high-road that the boy had spoken of. Having + given up his previous intention of crossing the stream, there seemed + nothing better for him to do than to follow the truant's advice and take + the road back to Green Springs. Yet he was loath to leave the wood, + halting on its verge, and turning to look back into its charmed recesses. + Once or twice—perhaps because he recalled the words of the poem—that + yellowish sea of ferns had seemed instinct with hidden life, and he had + even fancied, here and there, a swaying of its plumed crests. Howbeit, he + still lingered long enough for the open sunlight into which he had + obtruded to point out the bravery of his handsome figure. Then he wheeled + his horse, the light glanced from polished double bit and + bridle-fripperies, caught his red sash and bullion buttons, struck a + parting flash from his silver spurs, and he was gone! + </p> + <p> + For a moment the light streamed unbrokenly through the wood. And then it + could be seen that the yellow mass of undergrowth HAD moved with the + passage of another figure than his own. For ever since he had entered the + shade, a woman, shawled in a vague, shapeless fashion, had watched him + wonderingly, eagerly, excitedly, gliding from tree to tree as he advanced, + or else dropping breathlessly below the fronds of fern whence she gazed at + him as between parted fingers. When he wheeled she had run openly to the + west, albeit with hidden face and still clinging shawl, and taken a last + look at his retreating figure. And then, with a faint but lingering sigh, + she drew back into the shadow of the wood again and vanished also. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + At the end of twenty minutes Mr. Hamlin reined in his mare. He had just + observed in the distant shadows of a by-lane that intersected his road the + vanishing flutter of two light print dresses. Without a moment's + hesitation he lightly swerved out of the high-road and followed the + retreating figures. + </p> + <p> + As he neared them, they seemed to be two slim young girls, evidently so + preoccupied with the rustic amusement of edging each other off the grassy + border into the dust of the track that they did not perceive his approach. + Little shrieks, slight scufflings, and interjections of “Cynthy! you + limb!” “Quit that, Eunice, now!” and “I just call that real mean!” + apparently drowned the sound of his canter in the soft dust. Checking his + speed to a gentle trot, and pressing his horse close beside the opposite + fence, he passed them with gravely uplifted hat and a serious, preoccupied + air. But in that single, seemingly conventional glance, Mr. Hamlin had + seen that they were both pretty, and that one had the short upper lip of + his errant little guide. A hundred yards farther on he halted, as if + irresolutely, gazed doubtfully ahead of him, and then turned back. An + expression of innocent—almost childlike—concern was clouding + the rascal's face. It was well, as the two girls had drawn closely + together, having been apparently surprised in the midst of a glowing + eulogium of this glorious passing vision by its sudden return. At his + nearer approach, the one with the short upper lip hid that piquant feature + and the rest of her rosy face behind the other's shoulder, which was + suddenly and significantly opposed to the advance of this handsome + intruder, with a certain dignity, half real, half affected, but wholly + charming. The protectress appeared—possibly from her defensive + attitude—the superior of her companion. + </p> + <p> + Audacious as Jack was to his own sex, he had early learned that such rare + but discomposing graces as he possessed required a certain apologetic + attitude when presented to women, and that it was only a plain man who + could be always complacently self-confident in their presence. There was, + consequently, a hesitating lowering of this hypocrite's brown eyelashes as + he said, in almost pained accents,— + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, but I fear I've taken the wrong road. I'm going to Green + Springs.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you've taken the wrong road, wherever you're going,” returned + the young lady, having apparently made up her mind to resent each of + Jack's perfections as a separate impertinence: “this is a PRIVATE road.” + She drew herself fairly up here, although gurgled at in the ear and + pinched in the arm by her companion. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon,” said Jack, meekly. “I see I'm trespassing on your + grounds. I'm very sorry. Thank you for telling me. I should have gone on a + mile or two farther, I suppose, until I came to your house,” he added, + innocently. + </p> + <p> + “A mile or two! You'd have run chock ag'in' our gate in another minit,” + said the short-lipped one, eagerly. But a sharp nudge from her companion + sent her back again into cover, where she waited expectantly for another + crushing retort from her protector. + </p> + <p> + But, alas! it did not come. One cannot be always witty, and Jack looked + distressed. Nevertheless, he took advantage of the pause. + </p> + <p> + “It was so stupid in me, as I think your brother”—looking at + Short-lip—“very carefully told me the road.” + </p> + <p> + The two girls darted quick glances at each other. “Oh, Bawb!” said the + first speaker, in wearied accents,—“THAT limb! He don't keer.” + </p> + <p> + “But he DID care,” said Hamlin, quietly, “and gave me a good deal of + information. Thanks to him, I was able to see that ferny wood that's so + famous—about two miles up the road. You know—the one that + there's a poem written about!” + </p> + <p> + The shot told! Short-lip burst into a display of dazzling little teeth and + caught the other girl convulsively by the shoulders. The superior girl + bent her pretty brows, and said, “Eunice, what's gone of ye? Quit that!” + but, as Hamlin thought, paled slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Of course,” said Hamlin, quickly, “you know—the poem everybody's + talking about. Dear me! let me see! how does it go?” The rascal knit his + brows, said, “Ah, yes,” and then murmured the verse he had lately sung + quite as musically. + </p> + <p> + Short-lip was shamelessly exalted and excited. Really she could scarcely + believe it! She already heard herself relating the whole occurrence. Here + was the most beautiful young man she had ever seen—an entire + stranger—talking to them in the most beautiful and natural way, + right in the lane, and reciting poetry to her sister! It was like a novel—only + more so. She thought that Cynthia, on the other hand, looked distressed, + and—she must say it—“silly.” + </p> + <p> + All of which Jack noted, and was wise. He had got all he wanted—at + present. He gathered up his reins. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you so much, and your brother, too, Miss Cynthia,” he said, without + looking up. Then, adding, with a parting glance and smile, “But don't tell + Bob how stupid I was,” he swiftly departed. + </p> + <p> + In half an hour he was at the Green Springs Hotel. As he rode into the + stable yard, he noticed that the coach had only just arrived, having been + detained by a land-slip on the Summit road. With the recollection of Bob + fresh in his mind, he glanced at the loungers at the stage office. The boy + was not there, but a moment later Jack detected him among the waiting + crowd at the post-office opposite. With a view of following up his + inquiries, he crossed the road as the boy entered the vestibule of the + post-office. He arrived in time to see him unlock one of a row of numbered + letter-boxes rented by subscribers, which occupied a partition by the + window, and take out a small package and a letter. But in that brief + glance Mr. Hamlin detected the printed address of the “Excelsior Magazine” + on the wrapper. It was enough. Luck was certainly with him. + </p> + <p> + He had time to get rid of the wicked sparkle that had lit his dark eyes, + and to lounge carelessly towards the boy as the latter broke open the + package, and then hurriedly concealed it in his jacket-pocket, and started + for the door. Mr. Hamlin quickly followed him, unperceived, and, as he + stepped into the street, gently tapped him on the shoulder. The boy turned + and faced him quickly. But Mr. Hamlin's eyes showed nothing but lazy + good-humor. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, Bob. Where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + The boy again looked up suspiciously at this revelation of his name. + </p> + <p> + “Home,” he said, briefly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, over yonder,” said Hamlin, calmly. “I don't mind walking with you as + far as the lane.” + </p> + <p> + He saw the boy's eyes glance furtively towards an alley that ran beside + the blacksmith's shop a few rods ahead, and was convinced that he intended + to evade him there. Slipping his arm carelessly in the youth's, he + concluded to open fire at once. + </p> + <p> + “Bob,” he said, with irresistible gravity, “I did not know when I met you + this morning that I had the honor of addressing a poet—none other + than the famous author of 'Underbrush.'” + </p> + <p> + The boy started back, and endeavored to withdraw his arm, but Mr. Hamlin + tightened his hold, without, however, changing his careless expression. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he continued, “the editor is a friend of mine, and, being + afraid this package might not get into the right hands—as you didn't + give your name—he deputized me to come here and see that it was all + square. As you're rather young, for all you're so gifted, I reckon I'd + better go home with you, and take a receipt from your parents. That's + about square, I think?” + </p> + <p> + The consternation of the boy was so evident and so far beyond Mr. Hamlin's + expectation that he instantly halted him, gazed into his shifting eyes, + and gave a long whistle. + </p> + <p> + “Who said it was for ME? Wot you talkin' about? Lemme go!” gasped the boy, + with the short intermittent breath of mingled fear and passion. + </p> + <p> + “Bob,” said Mr. Hamlin, in a singularly colorless voice which was very + rare with him, and an expression quite unlike his own, “what is your + little game?” + </p> + <p> + The boy looked down in dogged silence. + </p> + <p> + “Out with it! Who are you playing this on?” + </p> + <p> + “It's all among my own folks; it's nothin' to YOU,” said the boy, suddenly + beginning to struggle violently, as if inspired by this extenuating fact. + </p> + <p> + “Among your own folks, eh? White Violet and the rest, eh? But SHE'S not in + it?” + </p> + <p> + No reply. + </p> + <p> + “Hand me over that package. I'll give it back to you again.” + </p> + <p> + The boy handed it to Mr. Hamlin. He read the letter, and found the + inclosure contained a twenty-dollar gold-piece. A half-supercilious smile + passed over his face at this revelation of the inadequate emoluments of + literature and the trifling inducements to crime. Indeed, I fear the + affair began to take a less serious moral complexion in his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Then White Violet—your sister Cynthia, you know,” continued Mr. + Hamlin, in easy parenthesis—“wrote for this?” holding the coin + contemplatively in his fingers, “and you calculated to nab it yourself?” + </p> + <p> + The quick searching glance with which Bob received the name of his sister, + Mr. Hamlin attributed only to his natural surprise that this stranger + should be on such familiar terms with her; but the boy responded + immediately and bluntly:— + </p> + <p> + “No! SHE didn't write for it. She didn't want nobody to know who she was. + Nobody wrote for it but me. Nobody KNEW FOLKS WAS PAID FOR PO'TRY BUT ME. + I found it out from a feller. I wrote for it. I wasn't goin' to let that + skunk of an editor have it himself!” + </p> + <p> + “And you thought YOU would take it,” said Hamlin, his voice resuming its + old tone. “Well, George—I mean Bob, your conduct was praiseworthy, + although your intentions were bad. Still, twenty dollars is rather too + much for your trouble. Suppose we say five and call it square?” He handed + the astonished boy five dollars. “Now, George Washington,” he continued, + taking four other twenty-dollar pieces from his pocket, and adding them to + the inclosure, which he carefully refolded, “I'm going to give you another + chance to live up to your reputation. You'll take that package, and hand + it to White Violet, and say you found it, just as it is, in the lock-box. + I'll keep the letter, for it would knock you endways if it was seen, and + I'll make it all right with the editor. But, as I've got to tell him that + I've seen White Violet myself, and know she's got it, I expect YOU to + manage in some way to have me see her. I'll manage the rest of it; and I + won't blow on you, either. You'll come back to the hotel, and tell me what + you've done. And now, George,” concluded Mr. Hamlin, succeeding at last in + fixing the boy's evasive eye with a peculiar look, “it may be just as well + for you to understand that I know every nook and corner of this place, + that I've already been through that underbrush you spoke of once this + morning, and that I've got a mare that can go wherever YOU can, and a d——d + sight quicker!” + </p> + <p> + “I'll give the package to White Violet,” said the boy, doggedly. + </p> + <p> + “And you'll come back to the hotel?” + </p> + <p> + The boy hesitated, and then said, “I'll come back.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, then. Adios, general.” + </p> + <p> + Bob disappeared around the corner of a cross-road at a rapid trot, and Mr. + Hamlin turned into the hotel. + </p> + <p> + “Smart little chap that!” he said to the barkeeper. + </p> + <p> + “You bet!” returned the man, who, having recognized Mr. Hamlin, was + delighted at the prospect of conversing with a gentleman of such decidedly + dangerous reputation. “But he's been allowed to run a little wild since + old man Delatour died, and the widder's got enough to do, I reckon, + lookin' arter her four gals, and takin' keer of old Delatour's ranch over + yonder. I guess it's pretty hard sleddin' for her sometimes to get clo'es + and grub for the famerly, without follerin' Bob around.” + </p> + <p> + “Sharp girls, too, I reckon; one of them writes things for the magazines, + doesn't she?—Cynthia, eh?” said Mr. Hamlin, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + Evidently this fact was not a notorious one to the barkeeper. He, however, + said, “Dunno; mabbee; her father was eddicated, and the widder Delatour, + too, though she's sorter queer, I've heard tell. Lord! Mr. Hamlin, YOU + oughter remember old man Delatour! From Opelousas, Louisiany, you know! + High old sport French style, frilled bosom—open-handed, and us'ter + buck ag'in' faro awful! Why, he dropped a heap o' money to YOU over in San + Jose two years ago at poker! You must remember him!” + </p> + <p> + The slightest possible flush passed over Mr. Hamlin's brow under the + shadow of his hat, but did not get lower than his eyes. He suddenly HAD + recalled the spendthrift Delatour perfectly, and as quickly regretted now + that he had not doubled the honorarium he had just sent to his portionless + daughter. But he only said, coolly, “No,” and then, raising his pale face + and audacious eyes, continued in his laziest and most insulting manner, + “no: the fact is, my mind is just now preoccupied in wondering if the gas + is leaking anywhere, and if anything is ever served over this bar except + elegant conversation. When the gentleman who mixes drinks comes back, + perhaps you'll be good enough to tell him to send a whisky sour to Mr. + Jack Hamlin in the parlor. Meantime, you can turn off your soda fountain: + I don't want any fizz in mine.” + </p> + <p> + Having thus quite recovered himself, Mr. Hamlin lounged gracefully across + the hall into the parlor. As he did so, a darkish young man, with a slim + boyish figure, a thin face, and a discontented expression, rose from an + armchair, held out his hand, and, with a saturnine smile, said:— + </p> + <p> + “Jack!” + </p> + <p> + “Fred!” + </p> + <p> + The two men remained gazing at each other with a half-amused, half-guarded + expression. Mr. Hamlin was first to begin. “I didn't think YOU'D be such a + fool as to try on this kind of thing, Fred,” he said, half seriously. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it was to keep you from being a much bigger one that I hunted + you up,” said the editor, mischievously. “Read that. I got it an hour + after you left.” And he placed a little triumphantly in Jack's hand the + letter he had received from White Violet. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hamlin read it with an unmoved face, and then laid his two hands on + the editor's shoulders. “Yes, my young friend, and you sat down and wrote + her a pretty letter and sent her twenty dollars—which, permit me to + say, was d——d poor pay! But that isn't your fault, I reckon: + it's the meanness of your proprietors.” + </p> + <p> + “But it isn't the question, either, just now, Jack, however you have been + able to answer it. Do you mean to say seriously that you want to know + anything more of a woman who could write such a letter?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know,” said Jack, cheerfully. “She might be a devilish sight + funnier than if she hadn't written it—which is the fact.” + </p> + <p> + “You mean to say SHE didn't write it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Who did, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Her brother Bob.” + </p> + <p> + After a moment's scrutiny of his friend's bewildered face, Mr. Hamlin + briefly related his adventures, from the moment of his meeting Bob at the + mountain-stream to the barkeeper's gossiping comment and sequel. + “Therefore,” he concluded, “the author of 'Underbrush' is Miss Cynthia + Delatour, one of four daughters of a widow who lives two miles from here + at the crossing. I shall see her this evening and make sure; but to-morrow + morning you will pay me the breakfast you owe me. She's good-looking, but + I can't say I fancy the poetic style: it's a little too high-toned for me. + However, I love my love with a C, because she is your Contributor; I hate + her with a C, because of her Connections; I met her by Chance and treated + her with Civility; her name is Cynthia, and she lives on a Cross-road.” + </p> + <p> + “But you surely don't expect you will ever see Bob, again!” said the + editor, impatiently. “You have trusted him with enough to start him for + the Sandwich Islands, to say nothing of the ruinous precedent you have + established in his mind of the value of poetry. I am surprised that a man + of your knowledge of the world would have faith in that imp the second + time.” + </p> + <p> + “My knowledge of the world,” returned Mr. Hamlin, sententiously, “tells me + that's the only way you can trust anybody. ONCE doesn't make a habit, nor + show a character. I could see by his bungling that he had never tried this + on before. Just now the temptation to wipe out his punishment by doing the + square thing, and coming back a sort of hero, is stronger than any other. + 'Tisn't everybody that gets that chance,” he added, with an odd laugh. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, three hours passed without bringing Bob. The two men had + gone to the billiard-room, when a waiter brought a note, which he handed + to Mr. Hamlin with some apologetic hesitation. It bore no superscription, + but had been brought by a boy who described Mr. Hamlin perfectly, and + requested that the note should be handed to him with the remark that “Bob + had come back.” + </p> + <p> + “And is he there now?” asked Mr. Hamlin, holding the letter unopened in + his hand. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; he run right off.” + </p> + <p> + The editor laughed, but Mr. Hamlin, having perused the note, put away his + cue. “Come into my room,” he said. + </p> + <p> + The editor followed, and Mr. Hamlin laid the note before him on the table. + “Bob's all right,” he said, “for I'll bet a thousand dollars that note is + genuine.” + </p> + <p> + It was delicately written, in a cultivated feminine hand, utterly unlike + the scrawl that had first excited the editor's curiosity, and ran as + follows:— + </p> + <p> + He who brought me the bounty of your friend—for I cannot call a + recompense so far above my deserts by any other name—gives me also + to understand that you wished for an interview. I cannot believe that this + is mere idle curiosity, or that you have any motive that is not kindly and + honorable, but I feel that I must beg and pray you not to seek to remove + the veil behind which I have chosen to hide myself and my poor efforts + from identification. I THINK I know you—I KNOW I know myself—well + enough to believe it would give neither of us any happiness. You will say + to your generous friend that he has already given the Unknown more comfort + and hope than could come from any personal compliment or publicity, and + you will yourself believe that you have all unconsciously brightened a sad + woman's fancy with a Dream and a Vision that before today had been unknown + to + </p> + <p> + WHITE VIOLET. + </p> + <p> + “Have you read it?” asked Mr. Hamlin. + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don't want to see it any more, or even remember you ever saw + it,” said Mr. Hamlin, carefully tearing the note into small pieces and + letting them drift from the windows like blown blossoms. + </p> + <p> + “But, I say, Jack! look here; I don't understand! You say you have already + seen this woman, and yet”— + </p> + <p> + “I HAVEN'T seen her,” said Jack, composedly, turning from the window. + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that you and I, Fred, are going to drop this fooling right here + and leave this place for Frisco by first stage to-morrow, and—that I + owe you that dinner.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + When the stage for San Francisco rolled away the next morning with Mr. + Hamlin and the editor, the latter might have recognized in the occupant of + a dust-covered buggy that was coming leisurely towards them the tall + figure, long beard, and straight duster of his late visitor, Mr. James + Bowers. For Mr. Bowers was on the same quest that the others had just + abandoned. Like Mr. Hamlin, he had been left to his own resources, but Mr. + Bowers's resources were a life-long experience and technical skill; he too + had noted the topographical indications of the poem, and his knowledge of + the sylva of Upper California pointed as unerringly as Mr. Hamlin's luck + to the cryptogamous haunts of the Summit. Such abnormal growths were + indicative of certain localities only, but, as they were not remunerative + from a pecuniary point of view, were to be avoided by the sagacious + woodman. It was clear, therefore, that Mr. Bowers's visit to Green Springs + was not professional, and that he did not even figuratively accept the + omen. + </p> + <p> + He baited and rested his horse at the hotel, where his bucolic exterior, + however, did not elicit that attention which had been accorded to Mr. + Hamlin's charming insolence or the editor's cultivated manner. But he + glanced over a township map on the walls of the reading-room, and took + note of the names of the owners of different lots, farms, and ranches, + passing that of Delatour with the others. Then he drove leisurely in the + direction of the woods, and, reaching them, tied his horse to a young + sapling in the shade, and entered their domain with a shambling but + familiar woodman's step. + </p> + <p> + It is not the purpose of this brief chronicle to follow Mr. Bowers in his + professional diagnosis of the locality. He recognized Nature in one of her + moods of wasteful extravagance,—a waste that his experienced eye + could tell was also sapping the vitality of those outwardly robust shafts + that rose around him. He knew, without testing them, that half of these + fair-seeming columns were hollow and rotten at the core; he could detect + the chill odor of decay through the hot balsamic spices stirred by the + wind that streamed through their long aisles,—like incense mingling + with the exhalations of a crypt. He stopped now and then to part the heavy + fronds down to their roots in the dank moss, seeing again, as he had told + the editor, the weird SECOND twilight through their miniature stems, and + the microcosm of life that filled it. But, even while paying this tribute + to the accuracy of the unknown poetess, he was, like his predecessor, + haunted more strongly by the atmosphere and melody of her verse. Its spell + was upon him, too. Unlike Mr. Hamlin, he did not sing. He only halted once + or twice, silently combing his straight narrow beard with his three + fingers, until the action seemed to draw down the lines of his face into + limitless dejection, and an inscrutable melancholy filled his small gray + eyes. The few birds which had hailed Mr. Hamlin as their successful rival + fled away before the grotesque and angular half-length of Mr. Bowers, as + if the wind had blown in a scarecrow from the distant farms. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he observed the figure of a woman, with her back towards him, + leaning motionless against a tree, and apparently gazing intently in the + direction of Green Springs. He had approached so near to her that it was + singular she had not heard him. Mr. Bowers was a bashful man in the + presence of the other sex. He felt exceedingly embarrassed; if he could + have gone away without attracting her attention he would have done so. + Neither could he remain silent, a tacit spy of her meditation. He had + recourse to a polite but singularly artificial cough. + </p> + <p> + To his surprise, she gave a faint cry, turned quickly towards him, and + then shrank back and lapsed quite helpless against the tree. Her evident + distress overcame his bashfulness. He ran towards her. + </p> + <p> + “I'm sorry I frighted ye, ma'am, but I was afraid I might skeer ye more if + I lay low, and said nothin'.” + </p> + <p> + Even then, if she had been some fair young country girl, he would have + relapsed after this speech into his former bashfulness. But the face and + figure she turned towards him were neither young nor fair: a woman past + forty, with gray threads and splashes in her brushed-back hair, which was + turned over her ears in two curls like frayed strands of rope. Her + forehead was rather high than broad, her nose large but well-shaped, and + her eyes full but so singularly light in color as to seem almost + sightless. The short upper lip of her large mouth displayed her teeth in + an habitual smile, which was in turn so flatly contradicted by every other + line of her careworn face that it seemed gratuitously artificial. Her + figure was hidden by a shapeless garment that partook equally of the + shawl, cloak, and wrapper. + </p> + <p> + “I am very foolish,” she began, in a voice and accent that at once + asserted a cultivated woman, “but I so seldom meet anybody here that a + voice quite startled me. That, and the heat,” she went on, wiping her + face, into which the color was returning violently—“for I seldom go + out as early as this—I suppose affected me.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bowers had that innate Far-Western reverence for womanhood which I + fancy challenges the most polished politeness. He remained patient, + undemonstrative, self-effacing, and respectful before her, his angular arm + slightly but not obtrusively advanced, the offer of protection being in + the act rather than in any spoken word, and requiring no response. + </p> + <p> + “Like as not, ma'am,” he said, cheerfully looking everywhere but in her + burning face. “The sun IS pow'ful hot at this time o' day; I felt it + myself comin' yer, and, though the damp of this timber kinder sets it + back, it's likely to come out ag'in. Ye can't check it no more than the + sap in that choked limb thar”—he pointed ostentatiously where a + fallen pine had been caught in the bent and twisted arm of another, but + which still put out a few green tassels beyond the point of impact. “Do + you live far from here, ma'am?” he added. + </p> + <p> + “Only as far as the first turning below the hill.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got my buggy here, and I'm goin' that way, and I can jist set ye + down thar cool and comfortable. Ef,” he continued, in the same assuring + tone, without waiting for a reply, “ye'll jist take a good grip of my arm + thar,” curving his wrist and hand behind him like a shepherd's crook, + “I'll go first, and break away the brush for ye.” + </p> + <p> + She obeyed mechanically, and they fared on through the thick ferns in this + fashion for some moments, he looking ahead, occasionally dropping a word + of caution or encouragement, but never glancing at her face. When they + reached the buggy he lifted her into it carefully,—and + perpendicularly, it struck her afterwards, very much as if she had been a + transplanted sapling with bared and sensitive roots,—and then + gravely took his place beside her. + </p> + <p> + “Bein' in the timber trade myself, ma'am,” he said, gathering up the + reins, “I chanced to sight these woods, and took a look around. My name is + Bowers, of Mendocino; I reckon there ain't much that grows in the way o' + standin' timber on the Pacific Slope that I don't know and can't locate, + though I DO say it. I've got ez big a mill, and ez big a run in my + district, ez there is anywhere. Ef you're ever up my way, you ask for + Bowers—Jim Bowers—and that's ME.” + </p> + <p> + There is probably nothing more conducive to conversation between strangers + than a wholesome and early recognition of each other's foibles. Mr. + Bowers, believing his chance acquaintance a superior woman, naively spoke + of himself in a way that he hoped would reassure her that she was not + compromising herself in accepting his civility, and so satisfy what must + be her inevitable pride. On the other hand, the woman regained her + self-possession by this exhibition of Mr. Bowers's vanity, and, revived by + the refreshing breeze caused by the rapid motion of the buggy along the + road, thanked him graciously. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose there are many strangers at the Green Springs Hotel,” she said, + after a pause. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't get to see 'em, as I only put up my hoss there,” he replied. + “But I know the stage took some away this mornin': it seemed pretty well + loaded up when I passed it.” + </p> + <p> + The woman drew a deep sigh. The act struck Mr. Bowers as a possible return + of her former nervous weakness. Her attention must at once be distracted + at any cost—even conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” he began, with sudden and appalling lightness, “I'm a-talkin' + to Mrs. McFadden?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the woman, abstractedly. + </p> + <p> + “Then it must be Mrs. Delatour? There are only two township lots on that + crossroad.” + </p> + <p> + “My name IS Delatour,” she said, somewhat wearily. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bowers was conversationally stranded. He was not at all anxious to + know her name, yet, knowing it now, it seemed to suggest that there was + nothing more to say. He would, of course, have preferred to ask her if she + had read the poetry about the Underbrush, and if she knew the poetess, and + what she thought of it; but the fact that she appeared to be an + “eddicated” woman made him sensitive of displaying technical ignorance in + his manner of talking about it. She might ask him if it was “subjective” + or “objective”—two words he had heard used at the Debating Society + at Mendocino on the question, “Is poetry morally beneficial?” For a few + moments he was silent. But presently she took the initiative in + conversation, at first slowly and abstractedly, and then, as if + appreciating his sympathetic reticence, or mayhap finding some relief in + monotonous expression, talked mechanically, deliberately, but + unostentatiously about herself. So colorless was her intonation that at + times it did not seem as if she was talking to him, but repeating some + conversation she had held with another. + </p> + <p> + She had lived there ever since she had been in California. Her husband had + bought the Spanish title to the property when they first married. The + property at his death was found to be greatly involved; she had been + obliged to part with much of it to support her children—four girls + and a boy. She had been compelled to withdraw the girls from the convent + at Santa Clara to help about the house; the boy was too young—she + feared, too shiftless—to do anything. The farm did not pay; the land + was poor; she knew nothing about farming; she had been brought up in New + Orleans, where her father had been a judge, and she didn't understand + country life. Of course she had been married too young—as all girls + were. Lately she had thought of selling off and moving to San Francisco, + where she would open a boarding-house or a school for young ladies. He + could advise her, perhaps, of some good opportunity. Her own girls were + far enough advanced to assist her in teaching; one particularly, Cynthia, + was quite clever, and spoke French and Spanish fluently. + </p> + <p> + As Mr. Bowers was familiar with many of these counts in the feminine + American indictment of life generally, he was not perhaps greatly moved. + But in the last sentence he thought he saw an opening to return to his + main object, and, looking up cautiously, said:— + </p> + <p> + “And mebbe write po'try now and then?” To his great discomfiture, the only + effect of this suggestion was to check his companion's speech for some + moments and apparently throw her back into her former abstraction. Yet, + after a long pause, as they were turning into the lane, she said, as if + continuing the subject:— + </p> + <p> + “I only hope that, whatever my daughters may do, they won't marry young.” + </p> + <p> + The yawning breaches in the Delatour gates and fences presently came in + view. They were supposed to be reinforced by half a dozen dogs, who, + however, did their duty with what would seem to be the prevailing + inefficiency, retiring after a single perfunctory yelp to shameless + stretching, scratching, and slumber. Their places were taken on the + veranda by two negro servants, two girls respectively of eight and eleven, + and a boy of fourteen, who remained silently staring. As Mr. Bowers had + accepted the widow's polite invitation to enter, she was compelled, albeit + in an equally dazed and helpless way, to issue some preliminary orders:— + </p> + <p> + “Now, Chloe—I mean aunt Dinah—do take Eunice—I mean + Victorine and Una—away, and—you know—tidy them; and you, + Sarah—it's Sarah, isn't it?—lay some refreshment in the parlor + for this gentleman. And, Bob, tell your sister Cynthia to come here with + Eunice.” As Bob still remained staring at Mr. Bowers, she added, in weary + explanation, “Mr. Bowers brought me over from the Summit woods in his + buggy—it was so hot. There—shake hands and thank him, and run + away—do!” + </p> + <p> + They crossed a broad but scantily-furnished hall. Everywhere the same look + of hopeless incompleteness, temporary utility, and premature decay; most + of the furniture was mismatched and misplaced; many of the rooms had + changed their original functions or doubled them; a smell of cooking came + from the library, on whose shelves, mingled with books, were dresses and + household linen, and through the door of a room into which Mrs. Delatour + retired to remove her duster Mr. Bowers caught a glimpse of a bed, and of + a table covered with books and papers, at which a tall, fair girl was + writing. In a few moments Mrs. Delatour returned, accompanied by this + girl, and Eunice, her short-lipped sister. Bob, who joined the party + seated around Mr. Bowers and a table set with cake, a decanter, and + glasses, completed the group. Emboldened by the presence of the tall + Cynthia and his glimpse of her previous literary attitude, Mr. Bowers + resolved to make one more attempt. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose these yer young ladies sometimes go to the wood, too?” As his + eye rested on Cynthia, she replied:— + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon on account of the purty shadows down in the brush, and the soft + light, eh? and all that?” he continued, with a playful manner but a + serious accession of color. + </p> + <p> + “Why, the woods belong to us. It's mar's property!” broke in Eunice with a + flash of teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Lordy, I wanter know!” said Mr. Bowers, in some astonishment. “Why, + that's right in my line, too! I've been sightin' timber all along here, + and that's how I dropped in on yer mar.” Then, seeing a look of eagerness + light up the faces of Bob and Eunice, he was encouraged to make the most + of his opportunity. “Why, ma'am,” he went on, cheerfully, “I reckon you're + holdin' that wood at a pretty stiff figger, now.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked Mrs. Delatour, simply. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bowers delivered a wink at Bob and Eunice, who were still watching him + with anxiety. “Well, not on account of the actool timber, for the best of + it ain't sound,” he said, “but on account of its bein' famous! Everybody + that reads that pow'ful pretty poem about it in the 'Excelsior Magazine' + wants to see it. Why, it would pay the Green Springs hotel-keeper to buy + it up for his customers. But I s'pose you reckon to keep it—along + with the poetess—in your famerly?” + </p> + <p> + Although Mr. Bowers long considered this speech as the happiest and most + brilliant effort of his life, its immediate effect was not, perhaps, all + that could be desired. The widow turned upon him a restrained and + darkening face. Cynthia half rose with an appealing “Oh, mar!” and Bob and + Eunice, having apparently pinched each other to the last stage of + endurance, retired precipitately from the room in a prolonged giggle. + </p> + <p> + “I have not yet thought of disposing of the Summit woods, Mr. Bowers,” + said Mrs. Delatour, coldly, “but if I should do so, I will consult you. + You must excuse the children, who see so little company, they are quite + unmanageable when strangers are present. Cynthia, WILL you see if the + servants have looked after Mr. Bowers's horse? You know Bob is not to be + trusted.” + </p> + <p> + There was clearly nothing else for Mr. Bowers to do but to take his leave, + which he did respectfully, if not altogether hopefully. But when he had + reached the lane, his horse shied from the unwonted spectacle of Bob, + swinging his hat, and apparently awaiting him, from the fork of a wayside + sapling. + </p> + <p> + “Hol' up, mister. Look here!” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bowers pulled up. Bob dropped into the road, and, after a backward + glance over his shoulder, said:— + </p> + <p> + “Drive 'longside the fence in the shadder.” As Mr. Bowers obeyed, Bob + approached the wheels of the buggy in a manner half shy, half mysterious. + “You wanter buy them Summit woods, mister?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, per'aps, sonny. Why?” smiled Mr. Bowers. + </p> + <p> + “Coz I'll tell ye suthin'. Don't you be fooled into allowin' that Cynthia + wrote that po'try. She didn't—no more'n Eunice nor me. Mar kinder + let ye think it, 'cos she don't want folks to think SHE did it. But mar + wrote that po'try herself; wrote it out o' them thar woods—all by + herself. Thar's a heap more po'try thar, you bet, and jist as good. And + she's the one that kin write it—you hear me? That's my mar, every + time! You buy that thar wood, and get mar to run it for po'try, and you'll + make your pile, sure! I ain't lyin'. You'd better look spry: thar's + another feller snoopin' 'round yere—only he barked up the wrong + tree, and thought it was Cynthia, jist as you did.” + </p> + <p> + “Another feller?” repeated the astonished Bowers. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; a rig'lar sport. He was orful keen on that po'try, too, you bet. So + you'd better hump yourself afore somebody else cuts in. Mar got a hundred + dollars for that pome, from that editor feller and his pardner. I reckon + that's the rig'lar price, eh?” he added, with a sudden suspicious caution. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon so,” replied Mr. Bowers, blankly. “But—look here, Bob! Do + you mean to say it was your mother—your MOTHER, Bob, who wrote that + poem? Are you sure?” + </p> + <p> + “D'ye think I'm lyin'?” said Bob, scornfully. “Don't I know? Don't I copy + 'em out plain for her, so as folks won't know her handwrite? Go 'way! + you're loony!” Then, possibly doubting if this latter expression were + strictly diplomatic with the business in hand, he added, in half-reproach, + half-apology, “Don't ye see I don't want ye to be fooled into losin' yer + chance o' buying up that Summit wood? It's the cold truth I'm tellin' ye.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bowers no longer doubted it. Disappointed as he undoubtedly was at + first,—and even self-deceived,—he recognized in a flash the + grim fact that the boy had stated. He recalled the apparition of the + sad-faced woman in the wood—her distressed manner, that to his + inexperienced mind now took upon itself the agitated trembling of + disturbed mystic inspiration. A sense of sadness and remorse succeeded his + first shock of disappointment. + </p> + <p> + “Well, are ye going to buy the woods?” said Bob, eying him grimly. “Ye'd + better say.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bowers started. “I shouldn't wonder, Bob,” he said, with a smile, + gathering up his reins. “Anyhow, I'm comin' back to see your mother this + afternoon. And meantime, Bob, you keep the first chance for me.” + </p> + <p> + He drove away, leaving the youthful diplomatist standing with his bare + feet in the dust. For a minute or two the young gentleman amused himself + by a few light saltatory steps in the road. Then a smile of scornful + superiority, mingled perhaps with a sense of previous slights and + unappreciation, drew back his little upper lip, and brightened his mottled + cheek. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like ter know,” he said, darkly, “what this yer God-forsaken famerly + would do without ME!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + It is to be presumed that the editor and Mr. Hamlin mutually kept to their + tacit agreement to respect the impersonality of the poetess, for during + the next three months the subject was seldom alluded to by either. Yet in + that period White Violet had sent two other contributions, and on each + occasion Mr. Hamlin had insisted upon increasing the honorarium to the + amount of his former gift. In vain the editor pointed out the danger of + this form of munificence; Mr. Hamlin retorted by saying that if he refused + he would appeal to the proprietor, who certainly would not object to + taking the credit of this liberality. “As to the risks,” concluded Jack, + sententiously, “I'll take them; and as far as you're concerned, you + certainly get the worth of your money.” + </p> + <p> + Indeed, if popularity was an indiction, this had become suddenly true. For + the poetess's third contribution, without changing its strong local color + and individuality, had been an unexpected outburst of human passion—a + love-song, that touched those to whom the subtler meditative graces of the + poetess had been unknown. Many people had listened to this impassioned but + despairing cry from some remote and charmed solitude, who had never read + poetry before, who translated it into their own limited vocabulary and + more limited experience, and were inexpressibly affected to find that + they, too, understood it; it was caught up and echoed by the feverish, + adventurous, and unsatisfied life that filled that day and time. Even the + editor was surprised and frightened. Like most cultivated men, he + distrusted popularity: like all men who believe in their own individual + judgment, he doubted collective wisdom. Yet now that his protegee had been + accepted by others, he questioned that judgment and became her critic. It + struck him that her sudden outburst was strained; it seemed to him that in + this mere contortion of passion the sibyl's robe had become rudely + disarranged. He spoke to Hamlin, and even approached the tabooed subject. + </p> + <p> + “Did you see anything that suggested this sort of business in—in—that + woman—I mean in—your pilgrimage, Jack?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” responded Jack, gravely. “But it's easy to see she's got hold of + some hay-footed fellow up there in the mountains with straws in his hair, + and is playing him for all he's worth. You won't get much more poetry out + of her, I reckon.” + </p> + <p> + Is was not long after this conversation that one afternoon, when the + editor was alone, Mr. James Bowers entered the editorial room with much of + the hesitation and irresolution of his previous visit. As the editor had + not only forgotten him, but even, dissociated him with the poetess, Mr. + Bowers was fain to meet his unresponsive eye and manner with some + explanation. + </p> + <p> + “Ye disremember my comin' here, Mr. Editor, to ask you the name o' the + lady who called herself 'White Violet,' and how you allowed you couldn't + give it, but would write and ask for it?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Editor, leaning back in his chair, now remembered the occurrence, but + was distressed to add that the situation remained unchanged, and that he + had received no such permission. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind THAT, my lad,” said Mr. Bowers, gravely, waving his hand. “I + understand all that; but, ez I've known the lady ever since, and am now + visiting her at her house on the Summit, I reckon it don't make much + matter.” + </p> + <p> + It was quite characteristic of Mr. Bowers's smileless earnestness that he + made no ostentation of this dramatic retort, nor of the undisguised + stupefaction of the editor. + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to say that you have met White Violet, the author of these + poems?” repeated the editor. + </p> + <p> + “Which her name is Delatour,—the widder Delatour,—ez she has + herself give me permission to tell you,” continued Mr. Bowers, with a + certain abstracted and automatic precision that dissipated any suggestion + of malice in the reversed situation. + </p> + <p> + “Delatour!—a widow!” repeated the editor. + </p> + <p> + “With five children,” continued Mr. Bowers. Then, with unalterable + gravity, he briefly gave an outline of her condition and the circumstances + of his acquaintance with her. + </p> + <p> + “But I reckoned YOU might have known suthin' o' this; though she never let + on you did,” he concluded, eying the editor with troubled curiosity. + </p> + <p> + The editor did not think it necessary to implicate Mr. Hamlin. He said, + briefly, “I? Oh, no!” + </p> + <p> + “Of course, YOU might not have seen her?” said Mr. Bowers, keeping the + same grave, troubled gaze on the editor. + </p> + <p> + “Of course not,” said the editor, somewhat impatient under the singular + scrutiny of Mr. Bowers; “and I'm very anxious to know how she looks. Tell + me, what is she like?” + </p> + <p> + “She is a fine, pow'ful, eddicated woman,” said Mr. Bowers, with slow + deliberation. “Yes, sir,—a pow'ful woman, havin' grand ideas of her + own, and holdin' to 'em.” He had withdrawn his eyes from the editor, and + apparently addressed the ceiling in confidence. + </p> + <p> + “But what does she look like, Mr. Bowers?” said the editor, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir, she looks—LIKE—IT! Yes,”—with deliberate + caution,—“I should say, just like it.” + </p> + <p> + After a pause, apparently to allow the editor to materialize this + ravishing description, he said, gently, “Are you busy just now?” + </p> + <p> + “Not very. What can I do for you?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, not much for ME, I reckon,” he returned, with a deeper respiration, + that was his nearest approach to a sigh, “but suthin' perhaps for yourself + and—another. Are you married?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the editor, promptly. + </p> + <p> + “Nor engaged to any—young lady?”—with great politeness. + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, mebbe you think it a queer thing for me to say,—mebbe you + reckon you KNOW it ez well ez anybody,—but it's my opinion that + White Violet is in love with you.” + </p> + <p> + “With me?” ejaculated the editor, in a hopeless astonishment that at last + gave way to an incredulous and irresistible laugh. + </p> + <p> + A slight touch of pain passed over Mr. Bowers's dejected face, but left + the deep outlines set with a rude dignity. “It's SO,” he said, slowly, + “though, as a young man and a gay feller, ye may think it's funny.” + </p> + <p> + “No, not funny, but a terrible blunder, Mr. Bowers, for I give you my word + I know nothing of the lady and have never set eyes upon her.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but she has on YOU. I can't say,” continued Mr. Bowers, with sublime + naivete, “that I'd ever recognize you from her description, but a woman o' + that kind don't see with her eyes like you and me, but with all her senses + to onct, and a heap more that ain't senses as we know 'em. The same eyes + that seed down through the brush and ferns in the Summit woods, the same + ears that heerd the music of the wind trailin' through the pines, don't + see you with my eyes or hear you with my ears. And when she paints you, + it's nat'ril for a woman with that pow'ful mind and grand idees to dip her + brush into her heart's blood for warmth and color. Yer smilin', young man. + Well, go on and smile at me, my lad, but not at her. For you don't know + her. When you know her story as I do, when you know she was made a wife + afore she ever knew what it was to be a young woman, when you know that + the man she married never understood the kind o' critter he was tied to no + more than ef he'd been a steer yoked to a Morgan colt, when ye know she + had children growin' up around her afore she had given over bein' a sort + of child herself, when ye know she worked and slaved for that man and + those children about the house—her heart, her soul, and all her + pow'ful mind bein' all the time in the woods along with the flickering + leaves and the shadders,—when ye mind she couldn't get the small + ways o' the ranch because she had the big ways o' Natur' that made it,—then + you'll understand her.” + </p> + <p> + Impressed by the sincerity of his visitor's manner, touched by the + unexpected poetry of his appeal, and yet keenly alive to the absurdity of + an incomprehensible blunder somewhere committed, the editor gasped almost + hysterically,— + </p> + <p> + “But why should all this make her in love with ME?” + </p> + <p> + “Because ye are both gifted,” returned Mr. Bowers, with sad but + unconquerable conviction; “because ye're both, so to speak, in a line o' + idees and business that draws ye together,—to lean on each other and + trust each other ez pardners. Not that YE are ezakly her ekal,” he went + on, with a return to his previous exasperating naivete, “though I've heerd + promisin' things of ye, and ye're still young, but in matters o' this kind + there is allers one ez hez to be looked up to by the other,—and + gin'rally the wrong one. She looks up to you, Mr. Editor,—it's part + of her po'try,—ez she looks down inter the brush and sees more than + is plain to you and me. Not,” he continued, with a courteously deprecating + wave of the hand, “ez you hain't bin kind to her—mebbe TOO kind. For + thar's the purty letter you writ her, thar's the perlite, easy, + captivatin' way you had with her gals and that boy—hold on!”—as + the editor made a gesture of despairing renunciation,—“I ain't + sayin' you ain't right in keepin' it to yourself,—and thar's the + extry money you sent her every time. Stop! she knows it was EXTRY, for she + made a p'int o' gettin' me to find out the market price o' po'try in + papers and magazines, and she reckons you've bin payin' her four hundred + per cent. above them figgers—hold on! I ain't sayin' it ain't free + and liberal in you, and I'd have done the same thing; yet SHE thinks”— + </p> + <p> + But the editor had risen hastily to his feet with flushing cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, Mr. Bowers,” he said, hurriedly. “This is the most dreadful + blunder of all. The gift is not mine. It was the spontaneous offering of + another who really admired our friend's work,—a gentleman who”—He + stopped suddenly. + </p> + <p> + The sound of a familiar voice, lightly humming, was borne along the + passage; the light tread of a familiar foot was approaching. The editor + turned quickly towards the open door,—so quickly that Mr. Bowers was + fain to turn also. + </p> + <p> + For a charming instant the figure of Jack Hamlin, handsome, careless, and + confident, was framed in the doorway. His dark eyes, with their habitual + scorn of his average fellow-man, swept superciliously over Mr. Bowers, and + rested for an instant with caressing familiarity on the editor. + </p> + <p> + “Well, sonny, any news from the old girl at the Summit?” + </p> + <p> + “No-o,” hastily stammered the editor, with a half-hysterical laugh. “No, + Jack. Excuse me a moment.” + </p> + <p> + “All right; busy, I see. Hasta manana.” + </p> + <p> + The picture vanished, the frame was empty. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” continued the editor, turning to Mr. Bowers, “there has been a + mistake. I”—but he stopped suddenly at the ashen face of Mr. Bowers, + still fixed in the direction of the vanished figure. + </p> + <p> + “Are you ill?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bowers did not reply, but slowly withdrew his eyes, and turned them + heavily on the editor. Then, drawing a longer, deeper breath, he picked up + his soft felt hat, and, moulding it into shape in his hands as if + preparing to put it on, he moistened his dry, grayish lips, and said, + gently:— + </p> + <p> + “Friend o' yours?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the editor—“Jack Hamlin. Of course, you know him?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bowers here put his hat on his head, and, after a pause, turned round + slowly once or twice, as if he had forgotten it, and was still seeking it. + Finally he succeeded in finding the editor's hand, and shook it, albeit + his own trembled slightly. Then he said:— + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you're right. There's bin a mistake. I see it now. Good-by. If + you're ever up my way, drop in and see me.” He then walked to the doorway, + passed out, and seemed to melt into the afternoon shadows of the hall. + </p> + <p> + He never again entered the office of the “Excelsior Magazine,” neither was + any further contribution ever received from White Violet. To a polite + entreaty from the editor, addressed first to “White Violet” and then to + Mrs. Delatour, there was no response. The thought of Mr. Hamlin's cynical + prophecy disturbed him, but that gentleman, preoccupied in filling some + professional engagements in Sacramento, gave him no chance to acquire + further explanations as to the past or the future. The youthful editor was + at first in despair and filled with a vague remorse of some unfulfilled + duty. But, to his surprise, the readers of the magazine seemed to survive + their talented contributor, and the feverish life that had been thrilled + by her song, in two months had apparently forgotten her. Nor was her voice + lifted from any alien quarter; the domestic and foreign press that had + echoed her lays seemed to respond no longer to her utterance. + </p> + <p> + It is possible that some readers of these pages may remember a previous + chronicle by the same historian wherein it was recorded that the volatile + spirit of Mr. Hamlin, slightly assisted by circumstances, passed beyond + these voices at the Ranch of the Blessed Fisherman, some two years later. + As the editor stood beside the body of his friend on the morning of the + funeral, he noticed among the flowers laid upon his bier by loving hands a + wreath of white violets. Touched and disturbed by a memory long since + forgotten, he was further embarrassed, as the cortege dispersed in the + Mission graveyard, by the apparition of the tall figure of Mr. James + Bowers from behind a monumental column. The editor turned to him quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to see you here,” he said, awkwardly, and he knew not why; + then, after a pause, “I trust you can give me some news of Mrs. Delatour. + I wrote to her nearly two years ago, but had no response.” + </p> + <p> + “Thar's bin no Mrs. Delatour for two years,” said Mr. Bowers, + contemplatively stroking his beard; “and mebbe that's why. She's bin for + two years Mrs. Bowers.” + </p> + <p> + “I congratulate you,” said the editor; “but I hope there still remains a + White Violet, and that, for the sake of literature, she has not given up”— + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Bowers,” interrupted Mr. Bowers, with singular deliberation, “found + that makin' po'try and tendin' to the cares of a growin'-up famerly was + irritatin' to the narves. They didn't jibe, so to speak. What Mrs. Bowers + wanted—and what, po'try or no po'try, I've bin tryin' to give her—was + Rest! She's bin havin' it comfor'bly up at my ranch at Mendocino, with her + children and me. Yes, sir”—his eye wandered accidentally to the + new-made grave—“you'll excuse my sayin' it to a man in your + profession, but it's what most folks will find is a heap better than + readin' or writin' or actin' po'try—and that's Rest!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHATELAINE OF BURNT RIDGE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + It had grown dark on Burnt Ridge. Seen from below, the whole serrated + crest that had glittered in the sunset as if its interstices were eaten by + consuming fires, now, closed up its ranks of blackened shafts and became + again harsh and sombre chevaux de frise against the sky. A faint glow + still lingered over the red valley road, as if it were its own reflection, + rather than any light from beyond the darkened ridge. Night was already + creeping up out of remote canyons and along the furrowed flanks of the + mountain, or settling on the nearer woods with the sound of home-coming + and innumerable wings. At a point where the road began to encroach upon + the mountain-side in its slow winding ascent the darkness had become so + real that a young girl cantering along the rising terrace found difficulty + in guiding her horse, with eyes still dazzled by the sunset fires. + </p> + <p> + In spite of her precautions, the animal suddenly shied at some object in + the obscured roadway, and nearly unseated her. The accident disclosed not + only the fact that she was riding in a man's saddle, but also a foot and + ankle that her ordinary walking-dress was too short to hide. It was + evident that her equestrian exercise was extempore, and that at that hour + and on that road she had not expected to meet company. But she was + apparently a good horsewoman, for the mischance which might have thrown a + less practical or more timid rider seemed of little moment to her. With a + strong hand and determined gesture she wheeled her frightened horse back + into the track, and rode him directly at the object. But here she herself + slightly recoiled, for it was the body of a man lying in the road. + </p> + <p> + As she leaned forward over her horse's shoulder, she could see by the dim + light that he was a miner, and that, though motionless, he was breathing + stertorously. Drunk, no doubt!—an accident of the locality alarming + only to her horse. But although she cantered impatiently forward, she had + not proceeded a hundred yards before she stopped reflectively, and trotted + back again. He had not moved. She could now see that his head and + shoulders were covered with broken clods of earth and gravel, and smaller + fragments lay at his side. A dozen feet above him on the hillside there + was a foot trail which ran parallel with the bridle-road, and occasionally + overhung it. It seemed possible that he might have fallen from the trail + and been stunned. + </p> + <p> + Dismounting, she succeeded in dragging him to a safer position by the + bank. The act discovered his face, which was young, and unknown to her. + Wiping it with the silk handkerchief which was loosely slung around his + neck after the fashion of his class, she gave a quick feminine glance + around her and then approached her own and rather handsome face near his + lips. There was no odor of alcohol in the thick and heavy respiration. + Mounting again, she rode forward at an accelerated pace, and in twenty + minutes had reached a higher tableland of the mountain, a cleared opening + in the forest that showed signs of careful cultivation, and a large, + rambling, yet picturesque-looking dwelling, whose unpainted red-wood walls + were hidden in roses and creepers. Pushing open a swinging gate, she + entered the inclosure as a brown-faced man, dressed as a vaquero, came + towards her as if to assist her to alight. But she had already leaped to + the ground and thrown him the reins. + </p> + <p> + “Miguel,” she said, with a mistress's quiet authority in her boyish + contralto voice, “put Glory in the covered wagon, and drive down the road + as far as the valley turning. There's a man lying near the right bank, + drunk, or sick, may be, or perhaps crippled by a fall. Bring him up here, + unless somebody has found him already, or you happen to know who he is and + where to take him.” + </p> + <p> + The vaquero raised his shoulders, half in disappointed expectation of some + other command. “And your brother, senora, he has not himself arrived.” + </p> + <p> + A light shadow of impatience crossed her face. “No,” she said, bluntly. + “Come, be quick.” + </p> + <p> + She turned towards the house as the man moved away. Already a + gaunt-looking old man had appeared in the porch, and was awaiting her with + his hand shadowing his angry, suspicious eyes, and his lips moving + querulously. + </p> + <p> + “Of course, you've got to stand out there and give orders and 'tend to + your own business afore you think o' speaking to your own flesh and + blood,” he said aggrievedly. “That's all YOU care!” + </p> + <p> + “There was a sick man lying in the road, and I've sent Miguel to look + after him,” returned the girl, with a certain contemptuous resignation. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes!” struck in another voice, which seemed to belong to the female + of the first speaker's species, and to be its equal in age and temper, + “and I reckon you saw a jay bird on a tree, or a squirrel on the fence, + and either of 'em was more important to you than your own brother.” + </p> + <p> + “Steve didn't come by the stage, and didn't send any message,” continued + the young girl, with the same coldly resigned manner. “No one had any news + of him, and, as I told you before, I didn't expect any.” + </p> + <p> + “Why don't you say right out you didn't WANT any?” said the old man, + sneeringly. “Much you inquired! No; I orter hev gone myself, and I would + if I was master here, instead of me and your mother bein' the dust of the + yearth beneath your feet.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl entered the house, followed by the old man, passing an old + woman seated by the window, who seemed to be nursing her resentment and a + large Bible which she held clasped against her shawled bosom at the same + moment. Going to the wall, she hung up her large hat and slightly shook + the red dust from her skirts as she continued her explanation, in the same + deep voice, with a certain monotony of logic and possibly of purpose and + practice also. + </p> + <p> + “You and mother know as well as I do, father, that Stephen is no more to + be depended upon than the wind that blows. It's three years since he has + been promising to come, and even getting money to come, and yet he has + never showed his face, though he has been a dozen times within five miles + of this house. He doesn't come because he doesn't want to come. As to YOUR + going over to the stage-office, I went there myself at the last moment to + save you the mortification of asking questions of strangers that they know + have been a dozen times answered already.” + </p> + <p> + There was such a ring of absolute truthfulness, albeit worn by repetition, + in the young girl's deep honest voice that for one instant her two more + emotional relatives quailed before it; but only for a moment. + </p> + <p> + “That's right!” shrilled the old woman. “Go on and abuse your own brother. + It's only the fear you have that he'll make his fortune yet and shame you + before the father and mother you despise.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl remained standing by the window, motionless and apparently + passive, as if receiving an accepted and usual punishment. But here the + elder woman gave way to sobs and some incoherent snuffling, at which the + younger went away. Whether she recognized in her mother's tears the + ordinary deliquescence of emotion, or whether, as a woman herself, she + knew that this mere feminine conventionality could not possibly be + directed at her, and that the actual conflict between them had ceased, she + passed slowly on to an inner hall, leaving the male victim, her + unfortunate father, to succumb, as he always did sooner or later, to their + influence. Crossing the hall, which was decorated with a few elk horns, + Indian trophies, and mountain pelts, she entered another room, and closed + the door behind her with a gesture of relief. + </p> + <p> + The room, which looked upon a porch, presented a singular combination of + masculine business occupations and feminine taste and adornment. A desk + covered with papers, a shelf displaying a ledger and account-books, + another containing works of reference, a table with a vase of flowers and + a lady's riding-whip upon it, a map of California flanked on either side + by an embroidered silken workbag and an oval mirror decked with grasses, a + calendar and interest-table hanging below two school-girl crayons of + classic heads with the legend, “Josephine Forsyth fecit,”—were part + of its incongruous accessories. The young girl went to her desk, but + presently moved and turned towards the window thoughtfully. The last gleam + had died from the steel-blue sky; a few lights like star points began to + prick out the lower valley. The expression of monotonous restraint and + endurance had not yet faded from her face. + </p> + <p> + Yet she had been accustomed to scenes like the one she had just passed + though since her girlhood. Five years ago, Alexander Forsyth, her uncle, + had brought her to this spot—then a mere log cabin on the hillside—as + a refuge from the impoverished and shiftless home of his elder brother + Thomas and his ill-tempered wife. Here Alexander Forsyth, by reason of his + more dominant character and business capacity, had prospered until he + became a rich and influential ranch owner. Notwithstanding her father's + jealousy of Alexander's fortune, and the open rupture that followed + between the brothers, Josephine retained her position in the heart and + home of her uncle without espousing the cause of either; and her father + was too prudent not to recognize the near and prospective advantages of + such a mediator. Accustomed to her parents' extravagant denunciations, and + her uncle's more repressed but practical contempt of them, the unfortunate + girl early developed a cynical disbelief in the virtues of kinship in the + abstract, and a philosophical resignation to its effects upon her + personally. Believing that her father and uncle fairly represented the + fraternal principle, she was quite prepared for the early defection and + distrust of her vagabond and dissipated brother Stephen, and accepted it + calmly. True to an odd standard of justice, which she had erected from the + crumbling ruins of her own domestic life, she was tolerant of everything + but human perfection. This quality, however fatal to her higher growth, + had given her a peculiar capacity for business which endeared her to her + uncle. Familiar with the strong passions and prejudices of men, she had + none of those feminine meannesses, a wholesome distrust of which had kept + her uncle a bachelor. It was not strange, therefore, that when he died two + years ago it was found that he had left her his entire property, real and + personal, limited only by a single condition. She was to undertake the + vocation of a “sole trader,” and carry on the business under the name of + “J. Forsyth.” If she married, the estate and property was to be held + distinct from her husband's, inalienable under the “Married Woman's + Property Act,” and subject during her life only to her own control and + personal responsibilities as a trader. + </p> + <p> + The intense disgust and discomfiture of her parents, who had expected to + more actively participate in their brother's fortune, may be imagined. But + it was not equal to their fury when Josephine, instead of providing for + them a separate maintenance out of her abundance, simply offered to + transfer them and her brother to her own house on a domestic but not a + business equality. There being no alternative but their former precarious + shiftless life in their “played-out” claim in the valley, they wisely + consented, reserving the sacred right of daily protest and objurgation. In + the economy of Burnt Ridge Ranch they alone took it upon themselves to + represent the shattered domestic altar and its outraged Lares and Penates. + And so conscientiously did they perform their task as even occasionally to + impede the business visitor to the ranch, and to cause some of the more + practical neighbors seriously to doubt the young girl's commercial wisdom. + But she was firm. Whether she thought her parents a necessity of + respectable domesticity, or whether she regarded their presence in the + light of a penitential atonement for some previous disregard of them, no + one knew. Public opinion inclined to the latter. + </p> + <p> + The black line of ridge faded out with her abstraction, and she turned + from the window and lit the lamp on her desk. The yellow light illuminated + her face and figure. In their womanly graces there was no trace of what + some people believed to be a masculine character, except a singularly + frank look of critical inquiry and patient attention in her dark eyes. Her + long brown hair was somewhat rigidly twisted into a knot on the top of her + head, as if more for security than ornament. Brown was also the prevailing + tint of her eyebrows, thickly-set eyelashes, and eyes, and was even + suggested in the slight sallowness of her complexion. But her lips were + well-cut and fresh-colored and her hands and feet small and finely formed. + She would have passed for a pretty girl, had she not suggested something + more. + </p> + <p> + She sat down, and began to examine a pile of papers before her with that + concentration and attention to detail which was characteristic of her + eyes, pausing at times with prettily knit brows, and her penholder between + her lips, in the semblance of a pout that was pleasant enough to see. + Suddenly the rattle of hoofs and wheels struck her with the sense of + something forgotten, and she put down her work quickly and stood up + listening. The sound of rough voices and her father's querulous accents + was broken upon by a cultivated and more familiar utterance: “All right; + I'll speak to her at once. Wait there,” and the door opened to the + well-known physician of Burnt Ridge, Dr. Duchesne. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” he said, with an abruptness that was only saved from being + brusque by a softer intonation and a reassuring smile, “I met Miguel + helping an accident into your buggy. Your orders, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” said Josephine, quietly. “A man I saw on the road.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's a bad case, and wants prompt attention. And as your house is + the nearest I came with him here.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” she said gravely. “Take him to the second room beyond—Steve's + room—it's ready,” she explained to two dusky shadows in the hall + behind the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “And look here,” said the doctor, partly closing the door behind him and + regarding her with critical eyes, “you always said you'd like to see some + of my queer cases. Well, this is one—a serious one, too; in fact, + it's just touch and go with him. There's a piece of the bone pressing on + the brain no bigger than that, but as much as if all Burnt Ridge was atop + of him! I'm going to lift it. I want somebody here to stand by, some one + who can lend a hand with a sponge, eh?—some one who isn't going to + faint or scream, or even shake a hair's-breadth, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The color rose quickly to the girl's cheek, and her eyes kindled. “I'll + come,” she said thoughtfully. “Who is he?” + </p> + <p> + The doctor stared slightly at the unessential query. “Don't know,—one + of the river miners, I reckon. It's an urgent case. I'll go and get + everything ready. You'd better,” he added, with an ominous glance at her + gray frock, “put something over your dress.” The suggestion made her + grave, but did not alter her color. + </p> + <p> + A moment later she entered the room. It was the one that had always been + set apart for her brother: the very bed on which the unconscious man lay + had been arranged that morning with her own hands. Something of this + passed through her mind as she saw that the doctor had wheeled it beneath + the strong light in the centre of the room, stripped its outer coverings + with professional thoughtfulness, and rearranged the mattresses. But it + did not seem like the same room. There was a pungent odor in the air from + some freshly-opened phial; an almost feminine neatness and luxury in an + open morocco case like a jewel box on the table, shining with spotless + steel. At the head of the bed one of her own servants, the powerful mill + foreman, was assisting with the mingled curiosity and blase experience of + one accustomed to smashed and lacerated digits. At first she did not look + at the central unconscious figure on the bed, whose sufferings seemed to + her to have been vicariously transferred to the concerned, eager, and + drawn faces that looked down upon its immunity. Then she femininely + recoiled before the bared white neck and shoulders displayed above the + quilt, until, forcing herself to look upon the face half-concealed by + bandages and the head from which the dark tangles of hair had been + ruthlessly sheared, she began to share the doctor's unconcern in his + personality. What mattered who or what HE was? It was—a case! + </p> + <p> + The operation began. With the same earnest intelligence that she had + previously shown, she quickly and noiselessly obeyed the doctor's + whispered orders, and even half anticipated them. She was conscious of a + singular curiosity that, far from being mean or ignoble, seemed to lift + her not only above the ordinary weaknesses of her own sex, but made her + superior to the men around her. Almost before she knew it, the operation + was over, and she regarded with equal curiosity the ostentatious + solicitude with which the doctor seemed to be wiping his fateful + instrument that bore an odd resemblance to a silver-handled centre-bit. + The stertorous breathing below the bandages had given way to a fainter but + more natural respiration. There was a moment of suspense. The doctor's + hand left the pulse and lifted the closed eyelid of the sufferer. A slight + movement passed over the figure. The sluggish face had cleared; life + seemed to struggle back into it before even the dull eyes participated in + the glow. Dr. Duchesne with a sudden gesture waved aside his companions, + but not before Josephine had bent her head eagerly forward. + </p> + <p> + “He is coming to,” she said. + </p> + <p> + At the sound of that deep clear voice—the first to break the hush of + the room—the dull eyes leaped up, and the head turned in its + direction. The lips moved and uttered a single rapid sentence. The girl + recoiled. + </p> + <p> + “You're all right now,” said the doctor, cheerfully, intent only upon the + form before him. + </p> + <p> + The lips moved again, but this time feebly and vacantly; the eyes were + staring vaguely around. + </p> + <p> + “What's matter? What's all about?” said the man, thickly. + </p> + <p> + “You've had a fall. Think a moment. Where do you live?” + </p> + <p> + Again the lips moved, but this time only to emit a confused, incoherent + murmur. Dr. Duchesne looked grave, but recovered himself quickly. + </p> + <p> + “That will do. Leave him alone now,” he said brusquely to the others. + </p> + <p> + But Josephine lingered. + </p> + <p> + “He spoke well enough just now,” she said eagerly. “Did you hear what he + said?” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly,” said the doctor, abstractedly, gazing at the man. + </p> + <p> + “He said, 'You'll have to kill me first,'” said Josephine, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Humph;” said the doctor, passing his hand backwards and forwards before + the man's eyes to note any change in the staring pupils. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Josephine, gravely. “I suppose,” she added, cautiously, + “he was thinking of the operation—of what you had just done to him?” + </p> + <p> + “What I had done to him? Oh, yes!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + Before noon the next day it was known throughout Burnt Ridge Valley that + Dr. Duchesne had performed a difficult operation upon an unknown man, who + had been picked up unconscious from a fall, and carried to Burnt Ridge + Ranch. But although the unfortunate man's life was saved by the operation, + he had only momentarily recovered consciousness—relapsing into a + semi-idiotic state, which effectively stopped the discovery of any clue to + his friends or his identity. As it was evidently an ACCIDENT, which, in + that rude community—and even in some more civilized ones—conveyed + a vague impression of some contributary incapacity on the part of the + victim, or some Providential interference of a retributive character, + Burnt Ridge gave itself little trouble about it. It is unnecessary to say + that Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth gave themselves and Josephine much more. They + had a theory and a grievance. Satisfied from the first that the alleged + victim was a drunken tramp, who submitted to have a hole bored in his head + in order to foist himself upon the ranch, they were loud in their + protests, even hinting at a conspiracy between Josephine and the stranger + to supplant her brother in the property, as he had already in the spare + bedroom. “Didn't all that yer happen THE VERY NIGHT she pretended to go + for Stephen—eh?” said Mrs. Forsyth. “Tell me that! And didn't she + have it all arranged with the buggy to bring him here, as that sneaking + doctor let out—eh? Looks mighty curious, don't it?” she muttered + darkly to the old man. But although that gentleman, even from his own + selfish view, would scarcely have submitted to a surgical operation and + later idiocy as the price of insuring comfortable dependency, he had no + doubt others were base enough to do it; and lent a willing ear to his + wife's suspicions. + </p> + <p> + Josephine's personal knowledge of the stranger went little further. Doctor + Duchesne had confessed to her his professional disappointment at the + incomplete results of the operation. He had saved the man's life, but as + yet not his reason. There was still hope, however, for the diagnosis + revealed nothing that might prejudice a favorable progress. It was a most + interesting case. He would watch it carefully, and as soon as the patient + could be removed would take him to the county hospital, where, under his + own eyes, the poor fellow would have the benefit of the latest science and + the highest specialists. Physically, he was doing remarkably well; indeed, + he must have been a fine young chap, free from blood taint or vicious + complication, whose flesh had healed like an infant's. It should be + recorded that it was at this juncture that Mrs. Forsyth first learnt that + a SILVER PLATE let into the artful stranger's skull was an adjunct of the + healing process! Convinced that this infamous extravagance was part and + parcel of the conspiracy, and was only the beginning of other + assimilations of the Forsyths' metallic substance; that the plate was + probably polished and burnished with a fulsome inscription to the doctor's + skill, and would pass into the possession and adornment of a perfect + stranger, her rage knew no bounds. He or his friends ought to be made to + pay for it or work it out! In vain it was declared that a few dollars were + all that was found in the man's pocket, and that no memoranda gave any + indication of his name, friends, or history beyond the suggestion that he + came from a distance. This was clearly a part of the conspiracy! Even + Josephine's practical good sense was obliged to take note of this singular + absence of all record regarding him, and the apparent obliteration of + everything that might be responsible for his ultimate fate. + </p> + <p> + Homeless, friendless, helpless, and even nameless, the unfortunate man of + twenty-five was thus left to the tender mercies of the mistress of Burnt + Ridge Ranch, as if he had been a new-born foundling laid at her door. But + this mere claim of weakness was not all; it was supplemented by a singular + personal appeal to Josephine's nature. From the time that he turned his + head towards her voice on that fateful night, his eyes had always followed + her around the room with a wondering, yearning, canine half-intelligence. + Without being able to convince herself that he understood her better than + his regular attendant furnished by the doctor, she could not fail to see + that he obeyed her implicitly, and that whenever any difficulty arose + between him and his nurse she was always appealed to. Her pride in this + proof of her practical sovereignty WAS flattered; and when Doctor Duchesne + finally admitted that although the patient was now physically able to be + removed to the hospital, yet he would lose in the change that very strong + factor which Josephine had become in his mental recovery, the young girl + as frankly suggested that he should stay as long as there was any hope of + restoring his reason. Doctor Duchesne was delighted. With all his + enthusiasm for science, he had a professional distrust of some of its + disciples, and perhaps was not sorry to keep this most interesting case in + his own hands. To him her suggestion was only a womanly kindness, tempered + with womanly curiosity. But the astonishment and stupefaction of her + parents at this evident corroboration of suspicions they had as yet only + half believed was tinged with superstitious dread. Had she fallen in love + with this helpless stranger? or, more awful to contemplate, was he really + no stranger, but a surreptitious lover thus strategically brought under + her roof? For once they refrained from open criticism. The very magnitude + of their suspicions left them dumb. + </p> + <p> + It was thus that the virgin Chatelaine of Burnt Ridge Ranch was left to + gaze untrammeled upon her pale and handsome guest, whose silken, bearded + lips and sad, childlike eyes might have suggested a more Exalted Sufferer + in their absence of any suggestion of a grosser material manhood. But even + this imaginative appeal did not enter into her feelings. She felt for her + good-looking, helpless patient a profound and honest pity. I do not know + whether she had ever heard that “pity was akin to love.” She would + probably have resented that utterly untenable and atrocious commonplace. + There was no suggestion, real or illusive, of any previous masterful + quality in the man which might have made his present dependent condition + picturesque by contrast. He had come to her handicapped by an unromantic + accident and a practical want of energy and intellect. He would have to + touch her interest anew if, indeed, he would ever succeed in dispelling + the old impression. His beauty, in a community of picturesquely handsome + men, had little weight with her, except to accent the contrast with their + fuller manhood. + </p> + <p> + Her life had given her no illusions in regard to the other sex. She had + found them, however, more congenial and safer companions than women, and + more accessible to her own sense of justice and honor. In return, they had + respected and admired rather than loved her, in spite of her womanly + graces. If she had at times contemplated eventual marriage, it was only as + a possible practical partnership in her business; but as she lived in a + country where men thought it dishonorable and a proof of incompetency to + rise by their wives' superior fortune, she had been free from that kind of + mercenary persecution, even from men who might have worshiped her in + hopeless and silent honor. + </p> + <p> + For this reason, there was nothing in the situation that suggested a + single compromising speculation in the minds of the neighbors, or + disturbed her own tranquillity. There seemed to be nothing in the future + except a possible relief to her curiosity. Some day the unfortunate man's + reason would be restored, and he would tell his simple history. Perhaps he + might explain what was in his mind when he turned to her the first evening + with that singular sentence which had often recurred strangely to her, she + knew not why. It did not strike her until later that it was because it had + been the solitary indication of an energy and capacity that seemed unlike + him. Nevertheless, after that explanation, she would have been quite + willing to have shaken hands with him and parted. + </p> + <p> + And yet—for there was an unexpressed remainder in her thought—she + was never entirely free or uninfluenced in his presence. The flickering + vacancy of his sad eyes sometimes became fixed with a resolute immobility + under the gentle questioning with which she had sought to draw out his + faculties, that both piqued and exasperated her. He could say “Yes” and + “No,” as she thought intelligently, but he could not utter a coherent + sentence nor write a word, except like a child in imitation of his copy. + She taught him to repeat after her the names of the inanimate objects in + the room, then the names of the doctor, his attendant, the servant, and, + finally, her own under her Christian prenomen, with frontier familiarity; + but when she pointed to himself he waited for HER to name him! In vain she + tried him with all the masculine names she knew; his was not one of them, + or he would not or could not speak it. For at times she rejected the + professional dictum of the doctor that the faculty of memory was wholly + paralyzed or held in abeyance, even to the half-automatic recollection of + his letters, yet she inconsistently began to teach him the alphabet with + the same method, and—in her sublime unconsciousness of his manhood—with + the same discipline as if he were a very child. When he had recovered + sufficiently to leave his room, she would lead him to the porch before her + window, and make him contented and happy by allowing him to watch her at + work at her desk, occasionally answering his wondering eyes with a word, + or stirring his faculties with a question. I grieve to say that her + parents had taken advantage of this publicity and his supposed helpless + condition to show their disgust of his assumption, to the extreme of + making faces at him—an act which he resented with such a furious + glare that they retreated hurriedly to their own veranda. A fresh though + somewhat inconsistent grievance was added to their previous indictment of + him: “If we ain't found dead in our bed with our throats cut by that + woman's crazy husband” (they had settled by this time that there had been + a clandestine marriage), “we'll be lucky,” groaned Mrs. Forsyth. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, the mountain summer waxed to its fullness of fire and fruition. + There were days when the crowded forest seemed choked and impeded with its + own foliage, and pungent and stifling with its own rank maturity; when the + long hillside ranks of wild oats, thickset and impassable, filled the air + with the heated dust of germination. In this quickening irritation of life + it would be strange if the unfortunate man's torpid intellect was not + helped in its awakening, and he was allowed to ramble at will over the + ranch; but with the instinct of a domestic animal he always returned to + the house, and sat in the porch, where Josephine usually found him + awaiting her when she herself returned from a visit to the mill. Coming + thence one day she espied him on the mountain-side leaning against a + projecting ledge in an attitude so rapt and immovable that she felt + compelled to approach him. He appeared to be dumbly absorbed in the + prospect, which might have intoxicated a saner mind. + </p> + <p> + Half veiled by the heat that rose quiveringly from the fiery canyon below, + the domain of Burnt Ridge stretched away before him, until, lifted in + successive terraces hearsed and plumed with pines, it was at last lost in + the ghostly snow-peaks. But the practical Josephine seized the opportunity + to try once more to awaken the slumbering memory of her pupil. Following + his gaze with signs and questions, she sought to draw from him some + indication of familiar recollection of certain points of the map thus + unrolled behind him. But in vain. She even pointed out the fateful shadow + of the overhanging ledge on the road where she had picked him up—there + was no response in his abstracted eyes. She bit her lips; she was becoming + irritated again. Then it occurred to her that, instead of appealing to his + hopeless memory, she had better trust to some unreflective automatic + instinct independent of it, and she put the question a little forward: + “When you leave us, where will you go from here?” He stirred slightly, and + turned towards her. She repeated her query slowly and patiently, with + signs and gestures recognized between them. A faint glow of intelligence + struggled into his eyes: he lifted his arm slowly, and pointed. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! those white peaks—the Sierras?” she asked, eagerly. No reply. + “Beyond them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “The States?” No reply. “Further still?” + </p> + <p> + He remained so patiently quiet and still pointing that she leaned forward, + and, following with her eyes the direction of his hand, saw that he was + pointing to the sky! + </p> + <p> + Then a great quiet fell upon them. The whole mountain-side seemed to her + to be hushed, as if to allow her to grasp and realize for the first time + the pathos of the ruined life at her side, which IT had known so long, but + which she had never felt till now. The tears came to her eyes; in her + swift revulsion of feeling she caught the thin uplifted hand between her + own. It seemed to her that he was about to raise them to his lips, but she + withdrew them hastily, and moved away. She had a strange fear that if he + had kissed them, it might seem as if some dumb animal had touched them—or—IT + MIGHT NOT. The next day she felt a consciousness of this in his presence, + and a wish that he was well-cured and away. She determined to consult Dr. + Duchesne on the subject when he next called. + </p> + <p> + But the doctor, secure in the welfare of his patient, had not visited him + lately, and she found herself presently absorbed in the business of the + ranch, which at this season was particularly trying. There had also been a + quarrel between Dick Shipley, her mill foreman, and Miguel, her ablest and + most trusted vaquero, and in her strict sense of impartial justice she was + obliged to side on the merits of the case with Shipley against her oldest + retainer. This troubled her, as she knew that with the Mexican nature, + fidelity and loyalty were not unmixed with quick and unreasoning jealousy. + For this reason she was somewhat watchful of the two men when work was + over, and there was a chance of their being thrown together. Once or twice + she had remained up late to meet Miguel returning from the posada at San + Ramon, filled with aguardiente and a recollection of his wrongs, and to + see him safely bestowed before she herself retired. It was on one of those + occasions, however, that she learned that Dick Shipley, hearing that + Miguel had disparaged him freely at the posada, had broken the discipline + of the ranch, and absented himself the same night that Miguel “had leave,” + with a view of facing his antagonist on his own ground. To prevent this, + the fearless girl at once secretly set out alone to overtake and bring + back the delinquent. + </p> + <p> + For two or three hours the house was thus left to the sole occupancy of + Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth and the invalid—a fact only dimly suspected by + the latter, who had become vaguely conscious of Josephine's anxiety, and + had noticed the absence of light and movement in her room. For this + reason, therefore, having risen again and mechanically taken his seat in + the porch to await her return, he was startled by hearing HER voice in the + shadow of the lower porch, accompanied by a hurried tapping against the + door of the old couple. The half-reasoning man arose, and would have moved + towards it, but suddenly he stopped rigidly, with white and parted lips + and vacantly distended eyeballs. + </p> + <p> + Meantime the voice and muffled tapping had brought the tremulous fingers + of old Forsyth to the door-latch. He opened the door partly; a slight + figure that had been lurking in the shadow of the porch pushed rapidly + through the opening. There was a faint outcry quickly hushed, and the door + closed again. The rays of a single candle showed the two old people + hysterically clasping in their arms the figure that had entered—a + slight but vicious-looking young fellow of five-and-twenty. + </p> + <p> + “There, d—n it!” he said impatiently, in a voice whose rich depth + was like Josephine's, but whose querulous action was that of the two old + people before him, “let me go, and quit that, I didn't come here to be + strangled! I want some money—money, you hear! Devilish quick, too, + for I've got to be off again before daylight. So look sharp, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “But, Stevy dear, when you didn't come that time three months ago, but + wrote from Los Angeles, you said you'd made a strike at last, and”— + </p> + <p> + “What are you talking about?” he interrupted violently. “That was just my + lyin' to keep you from worryin' me. Three months ago—three months + ago! Why, you must have been crazy to have swallowed it; I hadn't a cent.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor have we,” said the old woman, shrilly. “That hellish sister of yours + still keeps us like beggars. Our only hope was you, our own boy. And now + you only come to—to go again.” + </p> + <p> + “But SHE has money; SHE'S doing well, and SHE shall give it to me,” he + went on, angrily. “She can't bully me with her business airs and morality. + Who else has got a right to share, if it is not her own brother?” + </p> + <p> + Alas for the fatuousness of human malevolence! Had the unhappy couple + related only the simple facts they knew about the new guest of Burnt Ridge + Ranch, and the manner of his introduction, they might have spared what + followed. + </p> + <p> + But the old woman broke into a vindictive cry: “Who else, Steve—who + else? Why, the slut has brought a MAN here—a sneaking, deceitful, + underhanded, crazy lover!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, has she?” said the young man, fiercely, yet secretly pleased at this + promising evidence of his sister's human weakness. “Where is she? I'll go + to her. She's in her room, I suppose,” and before they could restrain him, + he had thrown off their impeding embraces and darted across the hall. + </p> + <p> + The two old people stared doubtfully at each other. For even this powerful + ally, whose strength, however, they were by no means sure of, might + succumb before the determined Josephine! Prudence demanded a middle + course. “Ain't they brother and sister?” said the old man, with an air of + virtuous toleration. “Let 'em fight it out.” + </p> + <p> + The young man impatiently entered the room he remembered to have been his + sister's. By the light of the moon that streamed upon the window he could + see she was not there. He passed hurriedly to the door of her bedroom; it + was open; the room was empty, the bed unturned. She was not in the house—she + had gone to the mill. Ah! What was that they had said? An infamous thought + passed through the scoundrel's mind. Then, in what he half believed was an + access of virtuous fury, he began by the dim light to rummage in the + drawers of the desk for such loose coin or valuables as, in the perfect + security of the ranch, were often left unguarded. Suddenly he heard a + heavy footstep on the threshold, and turned. + </p> + <p> + An awful vision—a recollection, so unexpected, so ghostlike in that + weird light that he thought he was losing his senses—stood before + him. It moved forwards with staring eyeballs and white and open lips from + which a horrible inarticulate sound issued that was the speech of no + living man! With a single desperate, almost superhuman effort Stephen + Forsyth bounded aside, leaped from the window, and ran like a madman from + the house. Then the apparition trembled, collapsed, and sank in an + undistinguishable heap to the ground. + </p> + <p> + When Josephine Forsyth returned an hour later with her mill foreman, she + was startled to find her helpless patient in a fit on the floor of her + room. With the assistance of her now converted and penitent employee, she + had the unfortunate man conveyed to his room—but not until she had + thoughtfully rearranged the disorder of her desk and closed the open + drawers without attracting Dick Shipley's attention. In the morning, + hearing that the patient was still in the semiconscious exhaustion of his + late attack, but without seeing him, she sent for Dr. Duchesne. The doctor + arrived while she was absent at the mill, where, after a careful + examination of his patient, he sought her with some little excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” she said, with eager gravity. + </p> + <p> + “Well, it looks as if your wish would be gratified. Your friend has had an + epileptic fit, but the physical shock has started his mental machinery + again. He has recovered his faculties; his memory is returning: he thinks + and speaks coherently; he is as sane as you and I.” + </p> + <p> + “And”—said Josephine, questioning the doctor's knitted eyebrows. + </p> + <p> + “I am not yet sure whether it was the result of some shock he doesn't + remember; or an irritation of the brain, which would indicate that the + operation had not been successful and that there was still some physical + pressure or obstruction there—in which case he would be subject to + these attacks all his life.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think his reason came before the fit or after?” asked the girl, + anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't say. Had anything happened?” + </p> + <p> + “I was away, and found him on the floor on my return,” she answered, half + uneasily. After a pause she said, “Then he has told you his name and all + about himself?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's nothing at all! He was a stranger just arrived from the States, + going to the mines—the old story; had no near relations, of course; + wasn't missed or asked after; remembers walking along the ridge and + falling over; name, John Baxter, of Maine.” He paused, and relaxing into a + slight smile, added, “I haven't spoiled your romance, have I?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said, with an answering smile. Then as the doctor walked briskly + away she slightly knitted her pretty brows, hung her head, patted the + ground with her little foot beyond the hem of her gown, and said to + herself, “The man was lying to him.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + On her return to the house, Josephine apparently contented herself with + receiving the bulletin of the stranger's condition from the servant, for + she did not enter his room. She had obtained no theory of last night's + incident from her parents, who, beyond a querulous agitation that was + quickened by the news of his return to reason, refrained from even that + insidious comment which she half feared would follow. When another day + passed without her seeing him, she nevertheless was conscious of a little + embarrassment when his attendant brought her the request that she would + give him a moment's speech in the porch, whither he had been removed. + </p> + <p> + She found him physically weaker; indeed, so much so that she was fain, + even in her embarrassment, to assist him back to the bench from which he + had ceremoniously risen. But she was so struck with the change in his face + and manner, a change so virile and masterful, in spite of its gentle + sadness of manner, that she recoiled with a slight timidity as if he had + been a stranger, although she was also conscious that he seemed to be more + at his ease than she was. He began in a low exhausted voice, but before he + had finished his first sentence, she felt herself in the presence of a + superior. + </p> + <p> + “My thanks come very late, Miss Forsyth,” he said, with a faint smile, + “but no one knows better than yourself the reason why, or can better + understand that they mean that the burden you have so generously taken on + yourself is about to be lifted. I know all, Miss Forsyth. Since yesterday + I have learned how much I owe you, even my life I believe, though I am + afraid I must tell you in the same breath that THAT is of little worth to + any one. You have kindly helped and interested yourself in a poor stranger + who turns out to be a nobody, without friends, without romance, and + without even mystery. You found me lying in the road down yonder, after a + stupid accident that might have happened to any other careless tramp, and + which scarcely gave me a claim to a bed in the county hospital, much less + under this kindly roof. It was not my fault, as you know, that all this + did not come out sooner; but while it doesn't lessen your generosity, it + doesn't lessen my debt, and although I cannot hope to ever repay you, I + can at least keep the score from running on. Pardon my speaking so + bluntly, but my excuse for speaking at all was to say 'Good-by' and 'God + bless you.' Dr. Duchesne has promised to give me a lift on my way in his + buggy when he goes.” + </p> + <p> + There was a slight touch of consciousness in his voice in spite of its + sadness, which struck the young girl as a weak and even ungentlemanly note + in his otherwise self-abnegating and undemonstrative attitude. If he was a + common tramp, he wouldn't talk in that way, and if he wasn't, why did he + lie? Her practical good sense here asserted itself. + </p> + <p> + “But you are far from strong yet; in fact, the doctor says you might have + a relapse at any moment, and you have—that is, you SEEM to have no + money,” she said gravely. + </p> + <p> + “That's true,” he said, quickly. “I remember I was quite played out when I + entered the settlement, and I think I had parted from even some little + trifles I carried with me. I am afraid I was a poor find to those who + picked me up, and you ought to have taken warning. But the doctor has + offered to lend me enough to take me to San Francisco, if only to give a + fair trial to the machine he has set once more a-going.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have friends in San Francisco?” said the young girl quickly. + “Those who know you? Why not write to them first, and tell them you are + here?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't think your postmaster here would be preoccupied with letters for + John Baxter, if I did,” he said, quietly. “But here is the doctor waiting. + Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + He stood looking at her in a peculiar, yet half-resigned way, and held out + his hand. For a moment she hesitated. Had he been less independent and + strong, she would have refused to let him go—have offered him some + slight employment at the ranch; for oddly enough, in spite of the + suspicion that he was concealing something, she felt that she would have + trusted him, and he would have been a help to her. But he was not only + determined, but SHE was all the time conscious that he was a totally + different man from the one she had taken care of, and merely ordinary + prudence demanded that she should know something more of him first. She + gave him her hand constrainedly; he pressed it warmly. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Duchesne drove up, helped him into the buggy, smiled a good-natured + but half-perfunctory assurance that he would look after “her patient,” and + drove away. + </p> + <p> + The whole thing was over, but so unexpectedly, so suddenly, so + unromantically, so unsatisfactorily, that, although her common sense told + her that it was perfectly natural, proper, business-like, and reasonable, + and, above all, final and complete, she did not know whether to laugh or + be angry. Yet this was her parting from the man who had but a few days ago + moved her to tears with a single hopeless gesture. Well, this would teach + her what to expect. Well, what had she expected? Nothing! + </p> + <p> + Yet for the rest of the day she was unreasonably irritable, and, if the + conjointure be not paradoxical, severely practical, and inhumanly just. + Falling foul of some presumption of Miguel's, based upon his prescriptive + rights through long service on the estate, with the recollection of her + severity towards his antagonist in her mind, she rated that trusted + retainer with such pitiless equity and unfeminine logic that his hot Latin + blood chilled in his veins, and he stood livid on the road. Then, + informing Dick Shipley with equally relentless calm that she might feel it + necessary to change ALL her foremen unless they could agree in harmony, + she sought the dignified seclusion of her castle. But her respected + parents, whose triumphant relief at the stranger's departure had + emboldened them to await her return in their porch with bended bows of + invective and lifted javelins of aggression, recoiled before the + resistless helm of this cold-browed Minerva, who galloped contemptuously + past them. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, she sat late that night at her desk. The cold moon looked + down upon her window, and lit up the empty porch where her silent guest + had mutely watched her. For a moment she regretted that he had recovered + his reason, excusing herself on the practical ground that he would never + have known his dependence, and he would have been better cared for by her. + She felt restless and uneasy. This slight divergence from the practical + groove in which her life had been set had disturbed her in many other + things, and given her the first views of the narrowness of it. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly she heard a step in the porch. The lateness of the hour, perhaps + some other reason, seemed to startle her, and she half rose. The next + moment the figure of Miguel appeared at the doorway, and with a quick, + hurried look around him, and at the open window, he approached her. He was + evidently under great excitement, his hollow shaven cheek looked like a + waxen effigy in the mission church; his yellow, tobacco-stained eye + glittered like phosphorescent amber, his lank gray hair was damp and + perspiring; but more striking than this was the evident restraint he had + put upon himself, pressing his broad-brimmed sombrero with both of his + trembling yellow hands against his breast. The young girl cast a hurried + glance at the open window and at the gun which stood in the corner, and + then confronted him with clear and steady eyes, but a paler cheek. + </p> + <p> + Ah, he began in Spanish, which he himself had taught her as a child, it + was a strange thing, his coming there to-night; but, then, mother of God! + it was a strange, a terrible thing that she had done to him—old + Miguel, her uncle's servant: he that had known her as a muchacha; he that + had lived all his life at the ranch—ay, and whose fathers before him + had lived there all THEIR lives and driven the cattle over the very spot + where she now stood, before the thieving Americans came here! But he would + be calm; yes, the senora should find him calm, even as she was when she + told him to go. He would not speak. No, he—Miguel—would + contain himself; yes, he HAD mastered himself, but could he restrain + others? Ah, yes, OTHERS—that was it. Could he keep Manuel and Pepe + and Dominguez from talking to the milkman—that leaking sieve, that + gabbling brute of a Shipley, for whose sake she had cast off her old + servant that very day? + </p> + <p> + She looked at him with cold astonishment, but without fear. Was he drunk + with aguardiente, or had his jealousy turned his brain? He continued + gasping, but still pressing his hat against his breast. + </p> + <p> + Ah, he saw it all! Yes, it was to-day, the day he left. Yes, she had + thought it safe to cast Miguel off now—now that HE was gone! + </p> + <p> + Without in the least understanding him, the color had leaped to her cheek, + and the consciousness of it made her furious. + </p> + <p> + “How dare you?” she said, passionately. “What has that stranger to do with + my affairs or your insolence?” + </p> + <p> + He stopped and gazed at her with a certain admiring loyalty. “Ah! so,” he + said, with a deep breath, “the senora is the niece of her uncle. She does + well not to fear HIM—a dog,”—with a slight shrug,—“who + is more than repaid by the senora's condescension. HE dare not speak!” + </p> + <p> + “Who dare not speak? Are you mad?” She stopped with a sudden terrible + instinct of apprehension. “Miguel,” she said in her deepest voice, “answer + me, I command you! Do you know anything of this man?” + </p> + <p> + It was Miguel's turn to recoil from his mistress. “Ah, my God! is it + possible the senora has not suspect?” + </p> + <p> + “Suspect!” said Josephine, haughtily, albeit her proud heart was beating + quickly. “I SUSPECT nothing. I command you to tell me what you KNOW.” + </p> + <p> + Miguel turned with a rapid gesture and closed the door. Then, drawing her + away from the window, he said in a hurried whisper,— + </p> + <p> + “I know that that man has not the name of Baxter! I know that he has the + name of Randolph, a young gambler, who have won a large sum at Sacramento, + and, fearing to be robbed by those he won of, have walk to himself through + the road in disguise of a miner. I know that your brother Esteban have + decoyed him here, and have fallen on him.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” said the young girl, her eyes, which had been fixed with the agony + of conviction, suddenly flashing with the energy of despair. “And you call + yourself the servant of my uncle, and dare say this of his nephew?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, senora,” broke out the old man, passionately. “It is because I am + the servant of your uncle that I, and I ALONE, dare say it to you! It is + because I perjured my soul, and have perjured my soul to deny it + elsewhere, that I now dare to say it! It is because I, your servant, knew + it from one of my countrymen, who was of the gang,—because I, + Miguel, knew that your brother was not far away that night, and because I, + whom you would dismiss, have picked up this pocket-book of Randolph's and + your brother's ring which he have dropped, and I have found beneath the + body of the man you sent me to fetch.” + </p> + <p> + He drew a packet from his bosom, and tossed it on the desk before her. + </p> + <p> + “And why have you not told me this before?” said Josephine, passionately. + </p> + <p> + Miguel shrugged his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + “What good? Possibly this dog Randolph would die. Possibly he would live—as + a lunatic. Possibly would happen what has happened! The senora is + beautiful. The American has eyes. If the Dona Josephine's beauty shall + finish what the silly Don Esteban's arm have begun—what matter?” + </p> + <p> + “Stop!” cried Josephine, pressing her hands across her shuddering eyes. + Then, uncovering her white and set face, she said rapidly, “Saddle my + horse and your own at once. Then take your choice! Come with me and repeat + all that you have said in the presence of that man, or leave this ranch + forever. For if I live I shall go to him tonight, and tell the whole + story.” + </p> + <p> + The old man cast a single glance at his mistress, shrugged his shoulders, + and, without a word, left the room. But in ten minutes they were on their + way to the county town. + </p> + <p> + Day was breaking over the distant Burnt Ridge—a faint, ghostly + level, like a funeral pall, in the dim horizon—as they drew up + before the gaunt, white-painted pile of the hospital building. Josephine + uttered a cry. Dr. Duchesne's buggy was before the door. On its very + threshold they met the doctor, dark and irritated. “Then you heard the + news?” he said, quickly. + </p> + <p> + Josephine turned her white face to the doctor's. “What news?” she asked, + in a voice that seemed strangely deep and resonant. + </p> + <p> + “The poor fellow had another attack last night, and died of exhaustion + about an hour ago. I was too late to save him.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he say anything? Was he conscious?” asked the girl, hoarsely. + </p> + <p> + “No; incoherent! Now I think of it, he harped on the same string as he did + the night of the operation. What was it he said? you remember.” + </p> + <p> + “'You'll have to kill me first,'” repeated Josephine, in a choking voice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; something about his dying before he'd tell. Well, he came back to it + before he went off—they often do. You seem a little hoarse with your + morning ride. You should take care of that voice of yours. By the way, + it's a good deal like your brother's.” + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The Chatelaine of Burnt Ridge never married. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THROUGH THE SANTA CLARA WHEAT + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + It was an enormous wheat-field in the Santa Clara valley, stretching to + the horizon line unbroken. The meridian sun shone upon it without glint or + shadow; but at times, when a stronger gust of the trade winds passed over + it, there was a quick slanting impression of the whole surface that was, + however, as unlike a billow as itself was unlike a sea. Even when a + lighter zephyr played down its long level, the agitation was superficial, + and seemed only to momentarily lift a veil of greenish mist that hung + above its immovable depths. Occasional puffs of dust alternately rose and + fell along an imaginary line across the field, as if a current of air were + passing through it, but were otherwise inexplicable. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a faint shout, apparently somewhere in the vicinity of the line, + brought out a perfectly clear response, followed by the audible murmur of + voices, which it was impossible to localize. Yet the whole field was so + devoid of any suggestion of human life or motion that it seemed rather as + if the vast expanse itself had become suddenly articulate and + intelligible. + </p> + <p> + “Wot say?” + </p> + <p> + “Wheel off.” + </p> + <p> + “Whare?” + </p> + <p> + “In the road.” + </p> + <p> + One of the voices here indicated itself in the direction of the line of + dust, and said, “Comin',” and a man stepped out from the wheat into a + broad and dusty avenue. + </p> + <p> + With his presence three things became apparent. + </p> + <p> + First, that the puffs of dust indicated the existence of the invisible + avenue through the unlimited and unfenced field of grain; secondly, that + the stalks of wheat on either side of it were so tall as to actually hide + a passing vehicle; and thirdly, that a vehicle had just passed, had lost a + wheel, and been dragged partly into the grain by its frightened horse, + which a dusty man was trying to restrain and pacify. + </p> + <p> + The horse, given up to equine hysterics, and evidently convinced that the + ordinary buggy behind him had been changed into some dangerous and + appalling creation, still plunged and kicked violently to rid himself of + it. The man who had stepped out of the depths of the wheat quickly crossed + the road, unhitched the traces, drew back the vehicle, and, glancing at + the traveler's dusty and disordered clothes, said, with curt sympathy:— + </p> + <p> + “Spilt, too; but not hurt, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “No, neither of us. I went over with the buggy when the wheel cramped, but + SHE jumped clear.” + </p> + <p> + He made a gesture indicating the presence of another. The man turned + quickly. There was a second figure, a young girl standing beside the grain + from which he had emerged, embracing a few stalks of wheat with one arm + and a hand in which she still held her parasol, while she grasped her + gathered skirts with the other, and trying to find a secure foothold for + her two neat narrow slippers on a crumbling cake of adobe above the + fathomless dust of the roadway. Her face, although annoyed and + discontented, was pretty, and her light dress and slim figure were + suggestive of a certain superior condition. + </p> + <p> + The man's manner at once softened with Western courtesy. He swung his + broad-brimmed hat from his head, and bent his body with the + ceremoniousness of the country ball-room. “I reckon the lady had better + come up to the shanty out o' the dust and sun till we kin help you get + these things fixed,” he said to the driver. “I'll send round by the road + for your hoss, and have one of mine fetch up your wagon.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it far?” asked the girl, slightly acknowledging his salutation, + without waiting for her companion to reply. + </p> + <p> + “Only a step this way,” he answered, motioning to the field of wheat + beside her. + </p> + <p> + “What in THERE? I never could go in there,” she said, decidedly. + </p> + <p> + “It's a heap shorter than by the road, and not so dusty. I'll go with you, + and pilot you.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl cast a vexed look at her companion as the probable cause of + all this trouble, and shook her head. But at the same moment one little + foot slipped from the adobe into the dust again. She instantly clambered + back with a little feminine shriek, and ejaculated: “Well, of all things!” + and then, fixing her blue annoyed eyes on the stranger, asked impatiently, + “Why couldn't I go there by the road 'n the wagon? I could manage to hold + on and keep in.” + </p> + <p> + “Because I reckon you'd find it too pow'ful hot waitin' here till we got + round to ye.” + </p> + <p> + There was no doubt it was very hot; the radiation from the baking roadway + beating up under her parasol, and pricking her cheekbones and eyeballs + like needles. She gave a fastidious little shudder, furled her parasol, + gathered her skirts still tighter, faced about, and said, “Go on, then.” + The man slipped backwards into the ranks of stalks, parting them with one + hand, and holding out the other as if to lead her. But she evaded the + invitation by holding her tightly-drawn skirt with both hands, and bending + her head forward as if she had not noticed it. The next moment the road, + and even the whole outer world, disappeared behind them, and they seemed + floating in a choking green translucent mist. + </p> + <p> + But the effect was only momentary; a few steps further she found that she + could walk with little difficulty between the ranks of stalks, which were + regularly spaced, and the resemblance now changed to that of a long + pillared conservatory of greenish glass, that touched all objects with its + pervading hue. She also found that the close air above her head was + continually freshened by the interchange of currents of lower temperature + from below,—as if the whole vast field had a circulation of its own,—and + that the adobe beneath her feet was gratefully cool to her tread. There + was no dust, as he had said; what had at first half suffocated her seemed + to be some stimulating aroma of creation that filled the narrow green + aisles, and now imparted a strange vigor and excitement to her as she + walked along. Meantime her guide was not conversationally idle. Now, no + doubt, she had never seen anything like this before? It was ordinary + wheat, only it was grown on adobe soil—the richest in the valley. + These stalks, she could see herself, were ten and twelve feet high. That + was the trouble, they all ran too much to stalk, though the grain yield + was “suthen' pow'ful.” She could tell that to her friends, for he reckoned + she was the only young lady that had ever walked under such a growth. + Perhaps she was new to Californy? He thought so from the start. Well, this + was Californy, and this was not the least of the ways it could “lay over” + every other country on God's yearth. Many folks thought it was the gold + and the climate, but she could see for herself what it could do with + wheat. He wondered if her brother had ever told, her of it? No, the + stranger wasn't her brother. Nor cousin, nor company? No; only the hired + driver from a San Jose hotel, who was takin' her over to Major Randolph's. + Yes, he knew the old major; the ranch was a pretty place, nigh unto three + miles further on. Now that he knew the driver was no relation of hers he + didn't mind telling her that the buggy was a “rather old consarn,” and the + driver didn't know his business. Yes, it might be fixed up so as to take + her over to the major's; there was one of their own men—a young + fellow—who could do anything that COULD be done with wood and iron,—a + reg'lar genius!—and HE'D tackle it. It might take an hour, but she'd + find it quite cool waiting in the shanty. It was a rough place, for they + only camped out there during the season to look after the crop, and lived + at their own homes the rest of the time. Was she going to stay long at the + major's? He noticed she had not brought her trunk with her. Had she known + the major's wife long? Perhaps she thought of settling in the + neighborhood? + </p> + <p> + All this naive, good-humored questioning—so often cruelly + misunderstood as mere vulgar curiosity, but as often the courteous + instinct of simple unaffected people to entertain the stranger by inviting + him to talk of what concerns himself rather than their own selves—was + nevertheless, I fear, met only by monosyllables from the young lady or an + impatient question in return. She scarcely raised her eyes to the broad + jean-shirted back that preceded her through the grain until the man + abruptly ceased talking, and his manner, without losing its half-paternal + courtesy, became graver. She was beginning to be conscious of her + incivility, and was trying to think of something to say, when he exclaimed + with a slight air of relief, “Here we are!” and the shanty suddenly + appeared before them. + </p> + <p> + It certainly was very rough—a mere shell of unpainted boards that + scarcely rose above the level of the surrounding grain, and a few yards + distant was invisible. Its slightly sloping roof, already warped and + shrunken into long fissures that permitted glimpses of the steel-blue sky + above, was evidently intended only as a shelter from the cloudless sun in + those two months of rainless days and dewless nights when it was + inhabited. Through the open doors and windows she could see a row of + “bunks,” or rude sleeping berths against the walls, furnished with coarse + mattresses and blankets. As the young girl halted, the man with an + instinct of delicacy hurried forward, entered the shanty, and dragging a + rude bench to the doorway, placed it so that she could sit beneath the + shade of the roof, yet with her back to these domestic revelations. Two or + three men, who had been apparently lounging there, rose quietly, and + unobtrusively withdrew. Her guide brought her a tin cup of deliciously + cool water, exchanged a few hurried words with his companions, and then + disappeared with them, leaving her alone. + </p> + <p> + Her first sense of relief from their company was, I fear, stronger than + any other feeling. After a hurried glance around the deserted apartment, + she arose, shook out her dress and mantle, and then going into the darkest + corner supported herself with one hand against the wall while with the + other she drew off, one by one, her slippers from her slim, + striped-stockinged feet, shook and blew out the dust that had penetrated + within, and put them on again. Then, perceiving a triangular fragment of + looking-glass nailed against the wall, she settled the strings of her + bonnet by the aid of its reflection, patted the fringe of brown hair on + her forehead with her separated five fingers as if playing an imaginary + tune on her brow, and came back with maidenly abstraction to the doorway. + </p> + <p> + Everything was quiet, and her seclusion seemed unbroken. A smile played + for an instant in the soft shadows of her eyes and mouth as she recalled + the abrupt withdrawal of the men. Then her mouth straightened and her + brows slightly bent. It was certainly very unmannerly in them to go off in + that way. “Good heavens! couldn't they have stayed around without talking? + Surely it didn't require four men to go and bring up that wagon!” She + picked up her parasol from the bench with an impatient little jerk. Then + she held out her ungloved hand into the hot sunshine beyond the door with + the gesture she would have used had it been raining, and withdrew it as + quickly—her hand quite scorched in the burning rays. Nevertheless, + after another impatient pause she desperately put up her parasol and + stepped from the shanty. + </p> + <p> + Presently she was conscious of a faint sound of hammering not far away. + Perhaps there was another shed, but hidden, like everything else, in this + monotonous, ridiculous grain. Some stalks, however, were trodden down and + broken around the shanty; she could move more easily and see where she was + going. To her delight, a few steps further brought her into a current of + the trade-wind and a cooler atmosphere. And a short distance beyond them, + certainly, was the shed from which the hammering proceeded. She approached + it boldly. + </p> + <p> + It was simply a roof upheld by rude uprights and crossbeams, and open to + the breeze that swept through it. At one end was a small blacksmith's + forge, some machinery, and what appeared to be part of a small + steam-engine. Midway of the shed was a closet or cupboard fastened with a + large padlock. Occupying its whole length on the other side was a + work-bench, and at the further end stood the workman she had heard. + </p> + <p> + He was apparently only a year or two older than herself, and clad in blue + jean overalls, blackened and smeared with oil and coal-dust. Even his + youthful face, which he turned towards her, had a black smudge running + across it and almost obliterating a small auburn moustache. The look of + surprise that he gave her, however, quickly passed; he remained patiently + and in a half-preoccupied way, holding his hammer in his hand, as she + advanced. This was evidently the young fellow who could “do anything that + could be done with wood and iron.” + </p> + <p> + She was very sorry to disturb him, but could he tell her how long it would + be before the wagon could be brought up and mended? He could not say that + until he himself saw what was to be done; if it was only a matter of the + wheel he could fix it up in a few moments; if, as he had been told, it was + a case of twisted or bent axle, it would take longer, but it would be here + very soon. Ah, then, would he let her wait here, as she was very anxious + to know at once, and it was much cooler than in the shed? Certainly; he + would go over and bring her a bench. But here she begged he wouldn't + trouble himself, she could sit anywhere comfortably. + </p> + <p> + The lower end of the work-bench was covered with clean and odorous + shavings; she lightly brushed them aside and, with a youthful movement, + swung herself to a seat upon it, supporting herself on one hand as she + leaned towards him. She could thus see that his eyes were of a + light-yellowish brown, like clarified honey, with a singular look of clear + concentration in them, which, however, was the same whether turned upon + his work, the surrounding grain, or upon her. This, and his sublime + unconsciousness of the smudge across his face and his blackened hands, + made her wonder if the man who could do everything with wood and iron was + above doing anything with water. She had half a mind to tell him of it, + particularly as she noticed also that his throat below the line of sunburn + disclosed by his open collar was quite white, and his grimy hands well + made. She was wondering whether he would be affronted if she said in her + politest way, “I beg your pardon, but do you know you have quite + accidentally got something on your face,” and offer her handkerchief, + which, of course, he would decline, when her eye fell on the steam-engine. + </p> + <p> + “How odd! Do you use that on the farm?” + </p> + <p> + “No,”—he smiled here, the smudge accenting it and setting off his + white teeth in a Christy Minstrel fashion that exasperated her—no, + although it COULD be used, and had been. But it was his first effort, made + two years ago, when he was younger and more inexperienced. It was a rather + rough thing, she could see—but he had to make it at odd times with + what iron he could pick up or pay for, and at different forges where he + worked. + </p> + <p> + She begged his pardon—where— + </p> + <p> + WHERE HE WORKED. + </p> + <p> + Ah, then he was the machinist or engineer here? + </p> + <p> + No, he worked here just like the others, only he was allowed to put up a + forge while the grain was green, and have his bench in consideration of + the odd jobs he could do in the way of mending tools, etc. There was a + heap of mending and welding to do—she had no idea how quickly + agricultural machines got out of order! He had done much of his work on + the steam-engine on moonlit nights. Yes; she had no idea how perfectly + clear and light it was here in the valley on such nights; although of + course the shadows were very dark, and when he dropped a screw or a nut it + was difficult to find. He had worked there because it saved time and + because it didn't cost anything, and he had nobody to look on or interfere + with him. No, it was not lonely; the coyotes and wild cats sometimes came + very near, but were always more surprised and frightened than he was; and + once a horseman who had strayed off the distant road yonder mistook him + for an animal and shot at him twice. + </p> + <p> + He told all this with such freedom from embarrassment and with such + apparent unconsciousness of the blue eyes that were following him, and the + light, graceful figure,—which was so near his own that in some of + his gestures his grimy hands almost touched its delicate garments,—that, + accustomed as she was to a certain masculine aberration in her presence, + she was greatly amused by his naive acceptance of her as an equal. + Suddenly, looking frankly in her face, he said: + </p> + <p> + “I'll show you a secret, if you care to see it.” + </p> + <p> + Nothing would please her more. + </p> + <p> + He glanced hurriedly around, took a key from his pocket, and unlocked the + padlock that secured the closet she had noticed. Then, reaching within, + with infinite care he brought out a small mechanical model. + </p> + <p> + “There's an invention of my own. A reaper and thresher combined. I'm going + to have it patented and have a big one made from this model. This will + work, as you see.” + </p> + <p> + He then explained to her with great precision how as it moved over the + field the double operation was performed by the same motive power. That it + would be a saving of a certain amount of labor and time which she could + not remember. She did not understand a word of his explanations; she saw + only a clean and pretty but complicated toy that under the manipulation of + his grimy fingers rattled a number of frail-like staves and worked a + number of wheels and drums, yet there was no indication of her ignorance + in her sparkling eyes and smiling, breathless attitude. Perhaps she was + interested in his own absorption; the revelation of his preoccupation with + this model struck her as if he had made her a confidante of some boyish + passion for one of her own sex, and she regarded him with the same + sympathizing superiority. + </p> + <p> + “You will make a fortune out of it,” she said pleasantly. + </p> + <p> + Well, he might make enough to be able to go on with some other inventions + he had in his mind. They cost money and time, no matter how careful one + was. + </p> + <p> + This was another interesting revelation to the young girl. He not only did + not seem to care for the profit his devotion brought him, but even his one + beloved ideal might be displaced by another. So like a man, after all! + </p> + <p> + Her reflections were broken upon by the sound of voices. The young man + carefully replaced the model in its closet with a parting glance as if he + was closing a shrine, and said, “There comes the wagon.” The young girl + turned to face the men who were dragging it from the road, with the + half-complacent air of having been victorious over their late rude + abandonment, but they did not seem to notice it or to be surprised at her + companion, who quickly stepped forward and examined the broken vehicle + with workmanlike deliberation. + </p> + <p> + “I hope you will be able to do something with it,” she said sweetly, + appealing directly to him. “I should thank you SO MUCH.” + </p> + <p> + He did not reply. Presently he looked up to the man who had brought her to + the shanty, and said, “The axle's strained, but it's safe for five or six + miles more of this road. I'll put the wheel on easily.” He paused, and + without glancing at her, continued, “You might send her on by the cart.” + </p> + <p> + “Pray don't trouble yourselves,” interrupted the young girl, with a pink + uprising in her cheeks; “I shall be quite satisfied with the buggy as it + stands. Send her on in the cart, indeed! Really, they were a rude set—ALL + of them.” + </p> + <p> + Without taking the slightest notice of her remark, the man replied gravely + to the young mechanic, “Yes, but we'll be wanting the cart before it can + get back from taking her.” + </p> + <p> + “Her” again. “I assure you the buggy will serve perfectly well—if + this—gentleman—will only be kind enough to put on the wheel + again,” she returned hotly. + </p> + <p> + The young mechanic at once set to work. The young girl walked apart + silently until the wheel was restored to its axle. But to her surprise a + different horse was led forward to be harnessed. + </p> + <p> + “We thought your horse wasn't safe in case of another accident,” said the + first man, with the same smileless consideration. “This one wouldn't cut + up if he was harnessed to an earthquake or a worse driver than you've + got.” + </p> + <p> + It occurred to her instantly that the more obvious remedy of sending + another driver had been already discussed and rejected by them. Yet, when + her own driver appeared a moment afterwards, she ascended to her seat with + some dignity and a slight increase of color. + </p> + <p> + “I am very much obliged to you all,” she said, without glancing at the + young inventor. + </p> + <p> + “Don't mention it, miss.” + </p> + <p> + “Good afternoon.” + </p> + <p> + “Good afternoon.” They all took off their hats with the same formal + gravity as the horse moved forward, but turned back to their work again + before she was out of the field. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + The ranch of Major Randolph lay on a rich falda of the Coast Range, and + overlooked the great wheat plains that the young girl had just left. The + house of wood and adobe, buried to its first story in rose-trees and + passion vines, was large and commodious. Yet it contained only the major, + his wife, her son and daughter, and the few occasional visitors from San + Francisco whom he entertained, and she tolerated. + </p> + <p> + For the major's household was not entirely harmonious. While a young + infantry subaltern at a Gulf station, he had been attracted by the piquant + foreign accent and dramatic gestures of a French Creole widow, and—believing + them, in the first flush of his youthful passion more than an offset to + the encumbrance of her two children who, with the memory of various + marital infidelities were all her late husband had left her—had + proposed, been accepted, and promptly married to her. Before he obtained + his captaincy, she had partly lost her accent, and those dramatic + gestures, which had accented the passion of their brief courtship, began + to intensify domestic altercation and the bursts of idle jealousy to which + she was subject. Whether she was revenging herself on her second husband + for the faults of her first is not known, but it was certain that she + brought an unhallowed knowledge of the weaknesses, cheap cynicism, and + vanity of a foreign predecessor, to sit in judgment upon the simple-minded + and chivalrous American soldier who had succeeded him, and who was, in + fact, the most loyal of husbands. The natural result of her skepticism was + an espionage and criticism of the wives of the major's brother officers + that compelled a frequent change of quarters. When to this was finally + added a racial divergence and antipathy, the public disparagement of the + customs and education of her female colleagues, and the sudden insistence + of a foreign and French dominance in her household beyond any ordinary + Creole justification, Randolph, presumably to avoid later international + complications, resigned while he was as yet a major. Luckily his latest + banishment to an extreme Western outpost had placed him in California + during the flood of a speculation epoch. He purchased a valuable Spanish + grant to three leagues of land for little over a three months' pay. + Following that yearning which compels retired ship-captains and rovers of + all degrees to buy a farm in their old days, the major, professionally and + socially inured to border strife, sought surcease and Arcadian repose in + ranching. + </p> + <p> + It was here that Mrs. Randolph, late relict of the late Scipion + L'Hommadieu, devoted herself to bringing up her children after the + extremest of French methods, and in resurrecting a “de” from her own + family to give a distinct and aristocratic character to their name. The + “de Fontanges l'Hommadieu” were, however, only known to their neighbors, + after the Western fashion, by their stepfather's name,—when they + were known at all—which was seldom. For the boy was unpleasantly + conceited as a precocious worldling, and the girl as unpleasantly + complacent in her role of ingenue. The household was completely dominated + by Mrs. Randolph. A punctilious Catholic, she attended all the functions + of the adjacent mission, and the shadow of a black soutane at twilight + gliding through the wild oat-fields behind the ranch had often been + mistaken for a coyote. The peace-loving major did not object to a piety + which, while it left his own conscience free, imparted a respectable + religious air to his household, and kept him from the equally distasteful + approaches of the Puritanism of his neighbors, and was blissfully + unconscious that he was strengthening the antagonistic foreign element in + his family with an alien church. + </p> + <p> + Meantime, as the repaired buggy was slowly making its way towards his + house, Major Randolph entered his wife's boudoir with a letter which the + San Francisco post had just brought him. A look of embarrassment on his + good-humored face strengthened the hard lines of hers; she felt some + momentary weakness of her natural enemy, and prepared to give battle. + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid here's something of a muddle, Josephine,” he began with a + deprecating smile. “Mallory, who was coming down here with his daughter, + you know”— + </p> + <p> + “This is the first intimation I have had that anything has been settled + upon,” interrupted the lady, with appalling deliberation. + </p> + <p> + “However, my dear, you know I told you last week that he thought of + bringing her here while he went South on business. You know, being a + widower, he has no one to leave her with.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose it is the American fashion to intrust one's daughters to + any old boon companions?” + </p> + <p> + “Mallory is an old friend,” interrupted the major, impatiently. “He knows + I'm married, and although he has never seen YOU, he is quite willing to + leave his daughter here.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you!” + </p> + <p> + “Come, you know what I mean. The man naturally believes that my wife will + be a proper chaperone for his daughter. But that is not the present + question. He intended to call here; I expected to take you over to San + Jose to see her and all that, you know; but the fact of it is—that + is—it seems from this letter that—he's been called away sooner + than he expected, and that—well—hang it! the girl is actually + on her way here now.” + </p> + <p> + “Alone?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so. You know one thinks nothing of that here.” + </p> + <p> + “Or any other propriety, for that matter.” + </p> + <p> + “For heaven's sake, Josephine, don't be ridiculous! Of course it's stupid + her coming in this way, and Mallory ought to have brought her—but + she's coming, and we must receive her. By Jove! Here she is now!” he + added, starting up after a hurried glance through the window. “But what + kind of a d——d turn-out is that, anyhow?” + </p> + <p> + It certainly was an odd-looking conveyance that had entered the gates, and + was now slowly coming up the drive towards the house. A large draught + horse harnessed to a dust-covered buggy, whose strained fore-axle, bent by + the last mile of heavy road, had slanted the tops of the fore-wheels + towards each other at an alarming angle. The light, graceful dress and + elegant parasol of the young girl, who occupied half of its single seat, + looked ludicrously pronounced by the side of the slouching figure and + grimy duster of the driver, who occupied the other half. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Randolph gave a gritty laugh. “I thought you said she was alone. Is + that an escort she has picked up, American fashion, on the road?” + </p> + <p> + “That's her hired driver, no doubt. Hang it! she can't drive here by + herself,” retorted the major, impatiently, hurrying to the door and down + the staircase. But he was instantly followed by his wife. She had no idea + of permitting a possible understanding to be exchanged in their first + greeting. The late M. l'Hommadieu had been able to impart a whole plan of + intrigue in a single word and glance. + </p> + <p> + Happily, Rose Mallory, already in the hall, in a few words detailed the + accident that had befallen her, to the honest sympathy of the major and + the coldly-polite concern of Mrs. Randolph, who, in deliberately chosen + sentences, managed to convey to the young girl the conviction that + accidents of any kind to young ladies were to be regarded as only a shade + removed from indiscretions. Rose was impressed, and even flattered, by the + fastidiousness of this foreign-appearing woman, and after the fashion of + youthful natures, accorded to her the respect due to recognized authority. + When to this authority, which was evident, she added a depreciation of the + major, I fear that some common instinct of feminine tyranny responded in + Rose's breast, and that on the very threshold of the honest soldier's home + she tacitly agreed with the wife to look down upon him. Mrs. Randolph + departed to inform her son and daughter of their guest's arrival. As a + matter of fact, however, they had already observed her approach to the + house through the slits of their drawn window-blinds, and those even + narrower prejudices and limited comprehensions which their education had + fostered. The girl, Adele, had only grasped the fact that Rose had come to + their house in fine clothes, alone with a man, in a broken-down vehicle, + and was moved to easy mirth and righteous wonder. The young man, Emile, + had agreed with her, with the mental reservation that the guest was + pretty, and must eventually fall in love with him. They both, however, + welcomed her with a trained politeness and a superficial attention that, + while the indifference of her own countrymen in the wheat-field was still + fresh in her recollection, struck her with grateful contrast; the major's + quiet and unobtrusive kindliness naturally made less impression, or was + accepted as a matter of course. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the major, cheerfully but tentatively, to his wife when they + were alone again, “she seems a nice girl, after all; and a good deal of + pluck and character, by Jove! to push on in that broken buggy rather than + linger or come in a farm cart, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “She was alone in that wheat-field,” said Mrs. Randolph, with grim + deliberation, “for half an hour; she confesses it herself—TALKING + WITH A YOUNG MAN!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but the others had gone for the buggy. And, in the name of Heaven, + what would you have her do—hide herself in the grain?” said the + major, desperately. “Besides,” he added, with a recklessness he afterwards + regretted, “that mechanical chap they've got there is really intelligent + and worth talking to.” + </p> + <p> + “I have no doubt SHE thought so,” said Mrs. Randolph, with a mirthless + smile. “In fact, I have observed that the American freedom generally means + doing what you WANT to do. Indeed, I wonder she didn't bring him with her! + Only I beg, major, that you will not again, in the presence of my + daughter,—and I may even say, of my son,—talk lightly of the + solitary meetings of young ladies with mechanics, even though their faces + were smutty, and their clothes covered with oil.” + </p> + <p> + The major here muttered something about there being less danger in a young + lady listening to the intelligence of a coarsely-dressed laborer than to + the compliments of a rose-scented fop, but Mrs. Randolph walked out of the + room before he finished the evident platitude. + </p> + <p> + That night Rose Mallory retired to her room in a state of + sell-satisfaction that she even felt was to a certain extent a virtue. She + was delighted with her reception and with her hostess and family. It was + strange her father had not spoken more of MRS. Randolph, who was clearly + the superior of his old friend. What fine manners they all had, so + different from other people she had known! There was quite an Old World + civilization about them; really, it was like going abroad! She would make + the most of her opportunity and profit by her visit. She would begin by + improving her French; they spoke it perfectly, and with such a pure + accent. She would correct certain errors she was conscious of in her own + manners, and copy Mrs. Randolph as much as possible. Certainly, there was + a great deal to be said of Mrs. Randolph's way of looking at things. Now + she thought of it calmly, there WAS too much informality and freedom in + American ways! There was not enough respect due to position and + circumstances. Take those men in the wheat-field, for example. Yet here + she found it difficult to formulate an indictment against them for + “freedom.” She would like to go there some day with the Randolphs and let + them see what company manners were! She was thoroughly convinced now that + her father had done wrong in sending her alone; it certainly was most + disrespectful to them and careless of him (she had quite forgotten that + she had herself proposed to her father to go alone rather than wait at the + hotel), and she must have looked very ridiculous in her fine clothes and + the broken-down buggy. When her trunk came by express to-morrow she would + look out something more sober. She must remember that she was in a + Catholic and religious household now. Ah, yes! how very fine it was to see + that priest at dinner in his soutane, sitting down like one of the family, + and making them all seem like a picture of some historical and + aristocratic romance! And then they were actually “de Fontanges + l'Hommadieu.” How different he was from that shabby Methodist minister who + used to come to see her father in a black cravat with a hideous bow! + Really there was something to say for a religion that contained so much + picturesque refinement; and for her part—but that will do. I beg to + say that I am not writing of any particular snob or feminine monstrosity, + but of a very charming creature, who was quite able to say her prayers + afterwards like a good girl, and lay her pretty cheek upon her pillow + without a blush. + </p> + <p> + She opened her window and looked out. The moon, a great silver dome, was + uplifting itself from a bluish-gray level, which she knew was the distant + plain of wheat. Somewhere in its midst appeared a dull star, at times + brightening as if blown upon or drawn upwards in a comet-like trail. By + some odd instinct she felt that it was the solitary forge of the young + inventor, and pictured him standing before it with his abstracted hazel + eyes and a face more begrimed in the moonlight than ever. When DID he wash + himself? Perhaps not until Sunday. How lonely it must be out there! She + slightly shivered and turned from the window. As she did so, it seemed to + her that something knocked against her door from without. Opening it + quickly, she was almost certain that the sound of a rustling skirt + retreated along the passage. It was very late; perhaps she had disturbed + the house by shutting her window. No doubt it was the motherly interest of + Mrs. Randolph that impelled her to come softly and look after her; and for + once her simple surmises were correct. For not only the inspecting eyes of + her hostess, but the amatory glances of the youthful Emile, had been + fastened upon her window until the light disappeared, and even the Holy + Mission Church of San Jose had assured itself of the dear child's safety + with a large and supple ear at her keyhole. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Major Randolph took her with Adele in a light cariole + over the ranch. Although his domain was nearly as large as the adjoining + wheat plain, it was not, like that, monopolized by one enormous + characteristic yield, but embraced a more diversified product. There were + acres and acres of potatoes in rows of endless and varying succession; + there were miles of wild oats and barley, which overtopped them as they + drove in narrow lanes of dry and dusty monotony; there were orchards of + pears, apricots, peaches, and nectarines, and vineyards of grapes, so + comparatively dwarfed in height that they scarcely reached to the level of + their eyes, yet laden and breaking beneath the weight of their ludicrously + disproportionate fruit. What seemed to be a vast green plateau covered + with tiny patches, that headed the northern edge of the prospect, was an + enormous bed of strawberry plants. But everywhere, crossing the track, + bounding the fields, orchards, and vineyards, intersecting the paths of + the whole domain, were narrow irrigating ducts and channels of running + water. + </p> + <p> + “Those,” said the major, poetically, “are the veins and arteries of the + ranch. Come with me now, and I'll show you its pulsating heart.” + Descending from the wagon into pedestrian prose again, he led Rose a + hundred yards further to a shed that covered a wonderful artesian well. In + the centre of a basin a column of water rose regularly with the even flow + and volume of a brook. “It is one of the largest in the State,” said the + major, “and is the life of all that grows here during six months of the + year.” + </p> + <p> + Pleased as the young girl was with those evidences of the prosperity and + position of her host, she was struck, however, with the fact that the + farm-laborers, wine-growers, nurserymen, and all field hands scattered on + the vast estate were apparently of the same independent, unpastoral, and + unprofessional character as the men of the wheat-field. There were no + cottages or farm buildings that she could see, nor any apparent connection + between the household and the estate; far from suggesting tenantry or + retainers, the men who were working in the fields glanced at them as they + passed with the indifference of strangers, or replied to the major's + greetings or questionings with perfect equality of manner, or even + businesslike reserve and caution. Her host explained that the ranch was + worked by a company “on shares;” that those laborers were, in fact, the + bulk of the company; and that he, the major, only furnished the land, the + seed, and the implements. “That man who was driving the long roller, and + with whom you were indignant because he wouldn't get out of our way, is + the president of the company.” + </p> + <p> + “That needn't make him so uncivil,” said Rose, poutingly, “for if it comes + to that you're the LANDLORD,” she added triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the major, good-humoredly. “I am simply the man driving the + lighter and more easily-managed team for pleasure, and he's the man + driving the heavier and more difficult machine for work. It's for me to + get out of his way; and looked at in the light of my being THE LANDLORD it + is still worse, for as we're working 'on shares' I'm interrupting HIS + work, and reducing HIS profits merely because I choose to sacrifice my + own.” + </p> + <p> + I need not say that those atrociously leveling sentiments were received by + the young ladies with that feminine scorn which is only qualified by + misconception. Rose, who, under the influence of her hostess, had a vague + impression that they sounded something like the French Revolution, and + that Adele must feel like the Princess Elizabeth, rushed to her relief + like a good girl. “But, major, now, YOU'RE a gentleman, and if YOU had + been driving that roller, you know you would have turned out for us.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know about that,” said the major, mischievously; “but if I had, I + should have known that the other fellow who accepted it wasn't a + gentleman.” + </p> + <p> + But Rose, having sufficiently shown her partisanship in the discussion, + after the feminine fashion, did not care particularly for the logical + result. After a moment's silence she resumed: “And the wheat ranch below—is + that carried on in the same way?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But their landlord is a bank, who advances not only the land, but + the money to work it, and doesn't ride around in a buggy with a couple of + charmingly distracting young ladies.” + </p> + <p> + “And do they all share alike?” continued Rose, ignoring the pleasantry, + “big and little—that young inventor with the rest?” + </p> + <p> + She stopped. She felt the ingenue's usually complacent eyes suddenly fixed + upon her with an unhallowed precocity, and as quickly withdrawn. Without + knowing why, she felt embarrassed, and changed the subject. + </p> + <p> + The next day they drove to the Convent of Santa Clara and the Mission + College of San Jose. Their welcome at both places seemed to Rose to be a + mingling of caste greeting and spiritual zeal, and the austere seclusion + and reserve of those cloisters repeated that suggestion of an Old World + civilization that had already fascinated the young Western girl. They made + other excursions in the vicinity, but did not extend it to a visit to + their few neighbors. With their reserved and exclusive ideas this fact did + not strike Rose as peculiar, but on a later shopping expedition to the + town of San Jose, a certain reticence and aggressive sensitiveness on the + part of the shopkeepers and tradespeople towards the Randolphs produced an + unpleasant impression on her mind. She could not help noticing, too, that + after the first stare of astonishment which greeted her appearance with + her hostess, she herself was included in the antagonism. With her youthful + prepossession for her friends, this distinction she regarded as flattering + and aristocratic, and I fear she accented it still more by discussing with + Mrs. Randolph the merits of the shopkeepers' wares in schoolgirl French + before them. She was unfortunate enough, however, to do this in the shop + of a polyglot German. + </p> + <p> + “Oxcoos me, mees,” he said gravely,—“but dot lady speeks Engeleesh + so goot mit yourselluf, and ven you dells to her dot silk is hallf gotton + in English, she onderstand you mooch better, and it don't make nodings to + me.” The laugh which would have followed from her own countrywomen did + not, however, break upon the trained faces of the “de Fontanges + l'Hommadieus,” yet while Rose would have joined in it, albeit a little + ruefully, she felt for the first time mortified at their civil + insincerity. + </p> + <p> + At the end of two weeks, Major Randolph received a letter from Mr. + Mallory. When he had read it, he turned to his wife: “He thanks you,” he + said, “for your kindness to his daughter, and explains that his sudden + departure was owing to the necessity of his taking advantage of a great + opportunity for speculation that had offered.” As Mrs. Randolph turned + away with a slight shrug of the shoulders, the major continued: “But you + haven't heard all! That opportunity was the securing of a half interest in + a cinnabar lode in Sonora, which has already gone up a hundred thousand + dollars in his hands! By Jove! a man can afford to drop a little social + ceremony on those terms—eh, Josephine?” he concluded with a + triumphant chuckle. + </p> + <p> + “He's as likely to lose his hundred thousand to-morrow, while his manners + will remain,” said Mrs. Randolph. “I've no faith in these sudden + California fortunes!” + </p> + <p> + “You're wrong as regards Mallory, for he's as careful as he is lucky. He + don't throw money away for appearance sake, or he'd have a rich home for + that daughter. He could afford it.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Randolph was silent. “She is his only daughter, I believe,” she + continued presently. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—he has no other kith or kin,” returned the major. + </p> + <p> + “She seems to be very much impressed by Emile,” said Mrs. Randolph. + </p> + <p> + Major Randolph faced his wife quickly. + </p> + <p> + “In the name of all that's ridiculous, my dear, you are not already + thinking of”—he gasped. + </p> + <p> + “I should be very loth to give MY sanction to anything of the kind, + knowing the difference of her birth, education, and religion,—although + the latter I believe she would readily change,” said Mrs. Randolph, + severely. “But when you speak of MY already thinking of 'such things,' do + you suppose that your friend, Mr. Mallory, didn't consider all that when + he sent that girl here?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” said the major, vehemently, “and if it entered his head now, by + Jove, he'd take her away to-morrow—always supposing I didn't + anticipate him by sending her off myself.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Randolph uttered her mirthless laugh. “And you suppose the girl would + go? Really, major, you don't seem to understand this boasted liberty of + your own countrywoman. What does she care for her father's control? Why, + she'd make him do just what SHE wanted. But,” she added with an expression + of dignity, “perhaps we had better not discuss this until we know + something of Emile's feelings in the matter. That is the only question + that concerns us.” With this she swept out of the room, leaving the major + at first speechless with honest indignation, and then after the fashion of + all guileless natures, a little uneasy and suspicious of his own + guilelessness. For a day or two after, he found himself, not without a + sensation of meanness, watching Rose when in Emile's presence, but he + could distinguish nothing more than the frank satisfaction she showed + equally to the others. Yet he found himself regretting even that, so + subtle was the contagion of his wife's suspicions. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + It had been a warm morning; an unusual mist, which the sun had not + dissipated, had crept on from the great grain-fields beyond, and hung + around the house charged with a dry, dusty closeness that seemed to be + quite independent of the sun's rays, and more like a heated exhalation or + emanation of the soil itself. In its acrid irritation Rose thought she + could detect the breath of the wheat as on the day she had plunged into + its pale, green shadows. By the afternoon this mist had disappeared, + apparently in the same mysterious manner, but not scattered by the usual + trade-wind, which—another unusual circumstance—that day was + not forthcoming. There was a breathlessness in the air like the hush of + listening expectancy, which filled the young girl with a vague + restlessness, and seemed to even affect a scattered company of crows in + the field beyond the house, which rose suddenly with startled but aimless + wings, and then dropped vacantly among the grain again. + </p> + <p> + Major Randolph was inspecting a distant part of the ranch, Mrs. Randolph + was presumably engaged in her boudoir, and Rose was sitting between Adele + and Emile before the piano in the drawing-room, listlessly turning over + the leaves of some music. There had been an odd mingling of eagerness and + abstraction in the usual attentions of the young man that morning, and a + certain nervous affectation in his manner of twisting the ends of a small + black moustache, which resembled his mother's eyebrows, that had affected + Rose with a half-amused, half-uneasy consciousness, but which she had, + however, referred to the restlessness produced by the weather. It occurred + to her also that the vacuously amiable Adele had once or twice regarded + her with the same precocious, childlike curiosity and infantine cunning + she had once before exhibited. All this did not, however, abate her + admiration for both—perhaps particularly for this picturesquely + gentlemanly young fellow, with his gentle audacities of compliment, his + caressing attentions, and his unfailing and equal address. And when, + discovering that she had mislaid her fan for the fifth time that morning, + he started up with equal and undiminished fire to go again and fetch it, + the look of grateful pleasure and pleading perplexity in her pretty eyes + might have turned a less conceited brain than his. + </p> + <p> + “But you don't know where it is!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall find it by instinct.” + </p> + <p> + “You are spoiling me—you two.” The parenthesis was a hesitating + addition, but she continued, with fresh sincerity, “I shall be quite + helpless when I leave here—if I am ever able to go by myself.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't ever go, then.” + </p> + <p> + “But just now I want my fan; it is so close everywhere to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “I fly, mademoiselle.” + </p> + <p> + He started to the door. + </p> + <p> + She called after him:— + </p> + <p> + “Let me help your instinct, then; I had it last in the major's study.” + </p> + <p> + “That was where I was going.” + </p> + <p> + He disappeared. Rose got up and moved uneasily towards the window. “How + queer and quiet it looks outside. It's really too bad that he should be + sent after that fan again. He'll never find it.” She resumed her place at + the piano, Adele following her with round, expectant eyes. After a pause + she started up again. “I'll go and fetch it myself,” she said, with a + half-embarrassed laugh, and ran to the door. + </p> + <p> + Scarcely understanding her own nervousness, but finding relief in rapid + movement, Rose flew lightly up the staircase. The major's study, where she + had been writing letters, during his absence, that morning, was at the + further end of a long passage, and near her own bedroom, the door of + which, as she passed, she noticed, half-abstractedly, was open, but she + continued on and hurriedly entered the study. At the same moment Emile, + with a smile on his face, turned towards her with the fan in his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you've found it,” she said, with nervous eagerness. “I was so afraid + you'd have all your trouble for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + She extended her hand, with a half-breathless smile, for the fan, but he + caught her outstretched little palm in his own, and held it. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! but you are not going to leave us, are you?” + </p> + <p> + In a flash of consciousness she understood him, and, as it seemed to her, + her own nervousness, and all, and everything. And with it came a swift + appreciation of all it meant to her and her future. To be always with him + and like him, a part of this refined and restful seclusion—akin to + all that had so attracted her in this house; not to be obliged to educate + herself up to it, but to be in it on equal terms at once; to know that it + was no wild, foolish youthful fancy, but a wise, thoughtful, and prudent + resolve, that her father would understand and her friends respect: these + were the thoughts that crowded quickly upon her, more like an explanation + of her feelings than a revelation, in the brief second that he held her + hand. It was not, perhaps, love as she had dreamed it, and even BELIEVED + it, before. She was not ashamed or embarrassed; she even felt, with a + slight pride, that she was not blushing. She raised her eyes frankly. What + she WOULD have said she did not know, for the door, which he had closed + behind her, began to shake violently. + </p> + <p> + It was not the fear of some angry intrusion or interference surely that + made him drop her hand instantly. It was not—her second thought—the + idea that some one had fallen in a fit against it that blanched his face + with abject and unreasoning terror! It must have been something else that + caused him to utter an inarticulate cry and dash out of the room and down + the stairs like a madman! What had happened? + </p> + <p> + In her own self-possession she knew that all this was passing rapidly, + that it was not the door now that was still shaking, for it had swung + almost shut again—but it was the windows, the book-shelves, the + floor beneath her feet, that were all shaking. She heard a hurried + scrambling, the trampling of feet below, and the quick rustling of a skirt + in the passage, as if some one had precipitately fled from her room. Yet + no one had called to her—even HE had said nothing. Whatever had + happened they clearly had not cared for her to know. + </p> + <p> + The jarring and rattling ceased as suddenly, but the house seemed silent + and empty. She moved to the door, which had now swung open a few inches, + but to her astonishment it was fixed in that position, and she could not + pass. As yet she had been free from any personal fear, and even now it was + with a half smile at her imprisonment in the major's study, that she rang + the bell and turned to the window. A man, whom she recognized as one of + the ranch laborers, was standing a hundred feet away in the garden, + looking curiously at the house. He saw her face as she tried to raise the + sash, uttered an exclamation, and ran forward. But before she could + understand what he said, the sash began to rattle in her hand, the jarring + recommenced, the floor shook beneath her feet, a hideous sound of grinding + seemed to come from the walls, a thin seam of dust-like smoke broke from + the ceiling, and with the noise of falling plaster a dozen books followed + each other from the shelves, in what in the frantic hurry of that moment + seemed a grimly deliberate succession; a picture hanging against the wall, + to her dazed wonder, swung forward, and appeared to stand at right angles + from it; she felt herself reeling against the furniture; a deadly nausea + overtook her; as she glanced despairingly towards the window, the outlying + fields beyond the garden seemed to be undulating like a sea. For the first + time she raised her voice, not in fear, but in a pathetic little cry of + apology for her awkwardness in tumbling about and not being able to + grapple this new experience, and then she found herself near the door, + which had once more swung free. She grasped it eagerly, and darted out of + the study into the deserted passage. Here some instinct made her follow + the line of the wall, rather than the shaking balusters of the corridor + and staircase, but before she reached the bottom she heard a shout, and + the farm laborer she had seen coming towards her seized her by the arm, + dragged her to the open doorway of the drawing-room, and halted beneath + its arch in the wall. Another thrill, but lighter than before, passed + through the building, then all was still again. + </p> + <p> + “It's over; I reckon that's all just now,” said the man, coolly. “It's + quite safe to cut and run for the garden now, through this window.” He + half led, half lifted her through the French window to the veranda and the + ground, and locking her arm in his, ran quickly forward a hundred feet + from the house, stopping at last beneath a large post oak where there was + a rustic seat into which she sank. “You're safe now, I reckon,” he said + grimly. + </p> + <p> + She looked towards the house; the sun was shining brightly; a cool breeze + seemed to have sprung up as they ran. She could see a quantity of rubbish + lying on the roof from which a dozen yards of zinc gutter were perilously + hanging; the broken shafts of the further cluster of chimneys, a pile of + bricks scattered upon the ground and among the battered down beams of the + end of the veranda—but that was all. She lifted her now whitened + face to the man, and with the apologetic smile still lingering on her + lips, asked:— + </p> + <p> + “What does it all mean? What has happened?” + </p> + <p> + The man stared at her. “D'ye mean to say ye don't know?” + </p> + <p> + “How could I? They must have all left the house as soon as it began. I was + talking to—to M. l'Hommadieu, and he suddenly left.” + </p> + <p> + The man brought his face angrily down within an inch of her own. “D'ye + mean to say that them d——d French half-breeds stampeded and + left yer there alone?” + </p> + <p> + She was still too much stupefied by the reaction to fully comprehend his + meaning, and repeated feebly with her smile still faintly lingering: “But + you don't tell me WHAT it was?” + </p> + <p> + “An earthquake,” said the man, roughly, “and if it had lasted ten seconds + longer it would have shook the whole shanty down and left you under it. + Yer kin tell that to them, if they don't know it, but from the way they + made tracks to the fields, I reckon they did. They're coming now.” + </p> + <p> + Without another word he turned away half surlily, half defiantly, passing + scarce fifty yards away Mrs. Randolph and her daughter, who were hastening + towards their guest. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, here you are!” said Mrs. Randolph, with the nearest approach to + effusion that Rose had yet seen in her manner. “We were wondering where + you had run to, and were getting quite concerned. Emile was looking for + you everywhere.” + </p> + <p> + The recollection of his blank and abject face, his vague outcry and blind + fright, came back to Rose with a shock that sent a flash of sympathetic + shame to her face. The ingenious Adele noticed it, and dutifully pinched + her mother's arm. + </p> + <p> + “Emile?” echoed Rose faintly—“looking for ME?” + </p> + <p> + Mother and daughter exchanged glances. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Mrs. Randolph, cheerfully, “he says he started to run with + you, but you got ahead and slipped out of the garden door—or + something of the kind,” she added, with the air of making light of Rose's + girlish fears. “You know one scarcely knows what one does at such times, + and it must have been frightfully strange to YOU—and he's been quite + distracted, lest you should have wandered away. Adele, run and tell him + Miss Mallory has been here under the oak all the time.” + </p> + <p> + Rose started—and then fell hopelessly back in her seat. Perhaps it + WAS true! Perhaps he had not rushed off with that awful face and without a + word. Perhaps she herself had been half-frightened out of her reason. In + the simple, weak kindness of her nature it seemed less dreadful to believe + that the fault was partly her own. + </p> + <p> + “And you went back into the house to look for us when all was over,” said + Mrs. Randolph, fixing her black, beady, magnetic eyes on Rose, “and that + stupid yokel Zake brought you out again. He needn't have clutched your arm + so closely, my dear,—I must speak to the major about his excessive + familiarity—but I suppose I shall be told that that is American + freedom. I call it 'a liberty.'” + </p> + <p> + It struck Rose that she had not even thanked the man—in the same + flash that she remembered something dreadful that he had said. She covered + her face with her hands and tried to recall herself. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Randolph gently tapped her shoulder with a mixture of maternal + philosophy and discipline, and continued: “Of course, it's an upset—and + you're confused still. That's nothing. They say, dear, it's perfectly well + known that no two people's recollections of these things ever are the + same. It's really ridiculous the contradictory stories one hears. Isn't + it, Emile?” + </p> + <p> + Rose felt that the young man had joined them and was looking at her. In + the fear that she should still see some trace of the startled, selfish + animal in his face, she did not dare to raise her eyes to his, but looked + at his mother. Mrs. Randolph was standing then, collected but impatient. + </p> + <p> + “It's all over now,” said Emile, in his usual voice, “and except the + chimneys and some fallen plaster there's really no damage done. But I'm + afraid they have caught it pretty badly at the mission, and at San + Francisco in those tall, flashy, rattle-trap buildings they're putting up. + I've just sent off one of the men for news.” + </p> + <p> + Her father was in San Francisco by that time; and she had never thought of + him! In her quick remorse she now forgot all else and rose to her feet. + </p> + <p> + “I must telegraph to my father at once,” she said hurriedly; “he is + there.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better wait until the messenger returns and hear his news,” said + Emile. “If the shock was only a slight one in San Francisco, your father + might not understand you, and would be alarmed.” + </p> + <p> + She could see his face now—there was no record of the past + expression upon it, but he was watching her eagerly. Mrs. Randolph and + Adele had moved away to speak to the servants. Emile drew nearer. + </p> + <p> + “You surely will not desert us now?” he said in a low voice. + </p> + <p> + “Please don't,” she said vaguely. “I'm so worried,” and, pushing quickly + past him, she hurriedly rejoined the two women. + </p> + <p> + They were superintending the erection of a long tent or marquee in the + garden, hastily extemporized from the awnings of the veranda and other + cloth. Mrs. Randolph explained that, although all danger was over, there + was the possibility of the recurrence of lighter shocks during the day and + night, and that they would all feel much more secure and comfortable to + camp out for the next twenty-four hours in the open air. + </p> + <p> + “Only imagine you're picnicking, and you'll enjoy it as most people + usually enjoy those horrid al fresco entertainments. I don't believe + there's the slightest real necessity for it, but,” she added in a lower + voice, “the Irish and Chinese servants are so demoralized now, they + wouldn't stay indoors with us. It's a common practice here, I believe, for + a day or two after the shock, and it gives time to put things right again + and clear up. The old, one-storied, Spanish houses with walls three feet + thick, and built round a courtyard or patio, were much safer. It's only + when the Americans try to improve upon the old order of things with their + pinchbeck shams and stucco that Providence interferes like this to punish + them.” + </p> + <p> + It was the fact, however, that Rose was more impressed by what seemed to + her the absolute indifference of Providence in the matter, and the cool + resumption by Nature of her ordinary conditions. The sky above their heads + was as rigidly blue as ever, and as smilingly monotonous; the distant + prospect, with its clear, well-known silhouettes, had not changed; the + crows swung on lazy, deliberate wings over the grain as before; and the + trade-wind was again blowing in its quiet persistency. And yet she knew + that something had happened that would never again make her enjoyment of + the prospect the same—that nothing would ever be as it was + yesterday. I think at first she referred only to the material and larger + phenomena, and did not confound this revelation of the insecurity of the + universe with her experience of man. Yet the fact also remained that to + the conservative, correct, and, as she believed, secure condition to which + she had been approximating, all her relations were rudely shaken and + upset. It really seemed to this simple-minded young woman that the + revolutionary disturbance of settled conditions might have as Providential + an origin as the “Divine Right” of which she had heard so much. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + In her desire to be alone and to evade the now significant attentions of + Emile, she took advantage of the bustle that followed the hurried transfer + of furniture and articles from the house to escape through the garden to + the outlying fields. Striking into one of the dusty lanes that she + remembered, she wandered on for half an hour until her progress and + meditation were suddenly arrested. She had come upon a long chasm or crack + in the soil, full twenty feet wide and as many in depth, crossing her path + at right angles. She did not remember having seen it before; the track of + wheels went up to its precipitous edge; she could see the track on the + other side, but the hiatus remained, unbridged and uncovered. It was not + there yesterday. She glanced right and left; the fissure seemed to extend, + like a moat or ditch, from the distant road to the upland between her and + the great wheat valley below, from which she was shut off. An odd sense of + being in some way a prisoner confronted her. She drew back with an + impatient start, and perhaps her first real sense of indignation. A voice + behind her, which she at once recognized, scarcely restored her calmness. + </p> + <p> + “You can't get across there, miss.” + </p> + <p> + She turned. It was the young inventor from the wheat ranch, on horseback + and with a clean face. He had just ridden out of the grain on the same + side of the chasm as herself. + </p> + <p> + “But you seem to have got over,” she said bluntly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it was further up the field. I reckoned that the split might be + deeper but not so broad in the rock outcrop over there than in the adobe + here. I found it so and jumped it.” + </p> + <p> + He looked as if he might—alert, intelligent, and self-contained. He + lingered a moment, and then continued:— + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid you must have been badly shaken and a little frightened up + there before the chimneys came down?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she was glad to say briefly, and she believed truthfully, “I wasn't + frightened. I didn't even know it was an earthquake.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” he reflected, “that was because you were a stranger. It's odd—they're + all like that. I suppose it's because nobody really expects or believes in + the unlooked-for thing, and yet that's the thing that always happens. And + then, of course, that other affair, which really is serious, startled you + the more.” + </p> + <p> + She felt herself ridiculously and angrily blushing. “I don't know what you + mean,” she said icily. “What other affair?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the well.” + </p> + <p> + “The well?” she repeated vacantly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; the artesian well has stopped. Didn't the major tell you?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said the girl. “He was away; I haven't seen him yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, the flow of water has ceased completely. That's what I'm here for. + The major sent for me, and I've been to examine it.” + </p> + <p> + “And is that stoppage so very important?” she said dubiously. + </p> + <p> + It was his turn to look at her wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “If it's LOST entirely, it means ruin for the ranch,” he said sharply. He + wheeled his horse, nodded gravely, and trotted off. + </p> + <p> + Major Randolph's figure of the “life-blood of the ranch” flashed across + her suddenly. She knew nothing of irrigation or the costly appliances by + which the Californian agriculturist opposed the long summer droughts. She + only vaguely guessed that the dreadful earthquake had struck at the + prosperity of those people whom only a few hours ago she had been proud to + call her friends. The underlying goodness of her nature was touched. + Should she let a momentary fault—if it were not really, after all, + only a misunderstanding—rise between her and them at such a moment? + She turned and hurried quickly towards the house. + </p> + <p> + Hastening onward, she found time, however, to wonder also why these common + men—she now included even the young inventor in that category—were + all so rude and uncivil to HER! She had never before been treated in this + way; she had always been rather embarrassed by the admiring attentions of + young men (clerks and collegians) in her Atlantic home, and, of + professional men (merchants and stockbrokers) in San Francisco. It was + true that they were not as continually devoted to her and to the nice art + and etiquette of pleasing as Emile,—they had other things to think + about, being in business and not being GENTLEMEN,—but then they were + greatly superior to these clowns, who took no notice of her, and rode off + without lingering or formal leave-taking when their selfish affairs were + concluded. It must be the contact of the vulgar earth—this wretched, + cracking, material, and yet ungovernable and lawless earth—that so + depraved them. She felt she would like to say this to some one—not + her father, for he wouldn't listen to her, nor to the major, who would + laughingly argue with her, but to Mrs. Randolph, who would understand her, + and perhaps say it some day in her own sharp, sneering way to these very + clowns. With those gentle sentiments irradiating her blue eyes, and + putting a pink flush upon her fair cheeks, Rose reached the garden with + the intention of rushing sympathetically into Mrs. Randolph's arms. But it + suddenly occurred to her that she would be obliged to state how she became + aware of this misfortune, and with it came an instinctive aversion to + speak of her meeting with the inventor. She would wait until Mrs. Randolph + told her. But although that lady was engaged in a low-voiced discussion in + French with Emile and Adele, which instantly ceased at her approach, there + was no allusion made to the new calamity. “You need not telegraph to your + father,” she said as Rose approached, “he has already telegraphed to you + for news; as you were out, and the messenger was waiting an answer, we + opened the dispatch, and sent one, telling him that you were all right, + and that he need not hurry here on your account. So you are satisfied, I + hope.” A few hours ago this would have been true, and Rose would have + probably seen in the action of her hostess only a flattering motherly + supervision; there was, in fact, still a lingering trace of trust in her + mind yet she was conscious that she would have preferred to answer the + dispatch herself, and to have let her father come. To a girl brought up + with a belief in the right of individual independence of thought and + action, there was something in Mrs. Randolph's practical ignoring of that + right which startled her in spite of her new conservatism, while, as the + daughter of a business man, her instincts revolted against Mrs. Randolph's + unbusiness-like action with the telegram, however vulgar and unrefined she + may have begun to consider a life of business. The result was a certain + constraint and embarrassment in her manner, which, however, had the + laudable effect of limiting Emile's attention to significant glances, and + was no doubt variously interpreted by the others. But she satisfied her + conscience by determining to make a confidence of her sympathy to the + major on the first opportunity. + </p> + <p> + This she presently found when the others were preoccupied; the major + greeting her with a somewhat careworn face, but a voice whose habitual + kindness was unchanged. When he had condoled with her on the terrifying + phenomenon that had marred her visit to the ranch,—and she could not + help impatiently noticing that he too seemed to have accepted his wife's + theory that she had been half deliriously frightened,—he regretted + that her father had not concluded to come down to the ranch, as his + practical advice would have been invaluable in this emergency. She was + about to eagerly explain why, when it occurred to her that Mrs. Randolph + had only given him a suppressed version of the telegram, and that she + would be betraying her, or again taking sides in this partisan divided + home. With some hesitation she at last alluded to the accident to the + artesian well. The major did not ask her how she had heard of it; it was a + bad business, he thought, but it might not be a total loss. The water may + have been only diverted by the shock and might be found again at the lower + level, or in some lateral fissure. He had sent hurriedly for Tom Bent—that + clever young engineer at the wheat ranch, who was always studying up these + things with his inventions—and that was his opinion. No, Tom was not + a well-digger, but it was generally known that he had “located” one or + two, and had long ago advised the tapping of that flow by a second boring, + in case of just such an emergency. He was coming again to-morrow. By the + way, he had asked how the young lady visitor was, and hoped she had not + been alarmed by the earthquake! + </p> + <p> + Rose felt herself again blushing, and, what was more singular, with an + unexpected and it seemed to her ridiculous pleasure, although outwardly + she appeared to ignore the civility completely. And she had no intention + of being so easily placated. If this young man thought by mere perfunctory + civilities to her HOST to make up for his clownishness to HER, he was + mistaken. She would let him see it when he called to-morrow. She quickly + turned the subject by assuring the major of her sympathy and her intention + of sending for her father. For the rest of the afternoon and during their + al fresco dinner she solved the difficulty of her strained relations with + Mrs. Randolph and Emile by conversing chiefly with the major, tacitly + avoiding, however, any allusion to this Mr. Bent. But Mrs. Randolph was + less careful. + </p> + <p> + “You don't really mean to say, major,” she began in her dryest, grittiest + manner, “that instead of sending to San Francisco for some skilled + master-mechanic, you are going to listen to the vagaries of a conceited, + half-educated farm-laborer, and employ him? You might as well call in some + of those wizards or water-witches at once.” But the major, like many other + well-managed husbands who are good-humoredly content to suffer in the + sunshine of prosperity, had no idea of doing so in adversity, and the + prospect of being obliged to go back to youthful struggles had recalled + some of the independence of that period. He looked up quietly, and said:— + </p> + <p> + “If his conclusions are as clear and satisfactory to-morrow as they were + to-day, I shall certainly try to secure his services.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I can only say I would prefer the water-witch. He at least would not + represent a class of neighbors who have made themselves systematically + uncivil and disagreeable to us.” + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid, Josephine, we have not tried to make ourselves particularly + agreeable to THEM,” said the major. + </p> + <p> + “If that can only be done by admitting their equality, I prefer they + should remain uncivil. Only let it be understood, major, that if you + choose to take this Tom-the-ploughboy to mend your well, you will at least + keep him there while he is on the property.” + </p> + <p> + With what retort the major would have kept up this conjugal discussion, + already beginning to be awkward to the discreet visitor, is not known, as + it was suddenly stopped by a bullet from the rosebud lips of the ingenuous + Adele. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he's very handsome when his face is clean, and his hands are small + and not at all hard. And he doesn't talk the least bit queer or common.” + </p> + <p> + There was a dead silence. “And pray where did YOU see him, and what do you + know about his hands?” asked Mrs. Randolph, in her most desiccated voice. + “Or has the major already presented you to him? I shouldn't be surprised.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but”—hesitated the young girl, with a certain mouse-like + audacity,—“when you sent me to look after Miss Mallory, I came up to + him just after he had spoken to her, and he stopped to ask me how we all + were, and if Miss Mallory was really frightened by the earthquake, and he + shook hands for good afternoon—that's all.” + </p> + <p> + “And who taught you to converse with common strangers and shake hands with + them?” continued Mrs. Randolph, with narrowing lips. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody, mamma; but I thought if Miss Mallory, who is a young lady, could + speak to him, so could I, who am not out yet.” + </p> + <p> + “We won't discuss this any further at present,” said Mrs. Randolph, + stiffly, as the major smiled grimly at Rose. “The earthquake seems to have + shaken down in this house more than the chimneys.” + </p> + <p> + It certainly had shaken all power of sleep from the eyes of Rose when the + household at last dispersed to lie down in their clothes on the mattresses + which had been arranged under the awnings. She was continually starting up + from confused dreams of the ground shaking under her, or she seemed to be + standing on the brink of some dreadful abyss like the great chasm on the + grain-field, when it began to tremble and crumble beneath her feet. It was + near morning when, unable to endure it any longer, she managed without + disturbing the sleeping Adele, who occupied the same curtained recess with + her, to slip out from the awning. Wrapped in a thick shawl, she made her + way through the encompassing trees and bushes of the garden that had + seemed to imprison and suffocate her, to the edge of the grain-field, + where she could breathe the fresh air beneath an open, starlit sky. There + was no moon and the darkness favored her; she had no fears that weighed + against the horror of seclusion with her own fancies. Besides, they were + camping OUT of the house, and if she chose to sit up or walk about, no one + could think it strange. She wished her father were here that she might + have some one of her own kin to talk to, yet she knew not what to say to + him if he had come. She wanted somebody to sympathize with her feelings,—or + rather, perhaps, some one to combat and even ridicule the uneasiness that + had lately come over her. She knew what her father would say,—“Do + you want to go, or do you want to stay here? Do you like these people, or + do you not?” She remembered the one or two glowing and enthusiastic + accounts she had written him of her visit here, and felt herself blushing + again. What would he think of Mrs. Randolph's opening and answering the + telegram? Wouldn't he find out from the major if she had garbled the sense + of his dispatch? + </p> + <p> + Away to the right, in the midst of the distant and invisible wheat-field, + there was the same intermittent star, which like a living, breathing thing + seemed to dilate in glowing respiration, as she had seen it the first + night of her visit. Mr. Bent's forge! It must be nearly daylight now; the + poor fellow had been up all night, or else was stealing this early march + on the day. She recalled Adele's sudden eulogium of him. The first natural + smile that had come to her lips since the earthquake broke up her nervous + restraint, and sent her back more like her old self to her couch. + </p> + <p> + But she had not proceeded far towards the tent, when she heard the sound + of low voices approaching her. It was the major and his wife, who, like + herself, had evidently been unable to sleep, and were up betimes. A new + instinct of secretiveness, which she felt was partly the effect of her + artificial surrounding, checked her first natural instinct to call to + them, and she drew back deeper in the shadow to let them pass. But to her + great discomfiture the major in a conversational emphasis stopped directly + in front of her. + </p> + <p> + “You are wrong, I tell you, a thousand times wrong. The girl is simply + upset by this earthquake. It's a great pity her father didn't come instead + of telegraphing. And by Jove, rather than hear any more of this, I'll send + for him myself,” said the major, in an energetic but suppressed voice. + </p> + <p> + “And the girl won't thank you, and you'll be a fool for your pains,” + returned Mrs. Randolph, with dry persistency. + </p> + <p> + “But according to your own ideas of propriety, Mallory ought to be the + first one to be consulted—and by me, too.” + </p> + <p> + “Not in this case. Of course, before any actual engagement is on, you can + speak of Emile's attentions.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose Mallory has other views. Suppose he declines the honor. The + man is no fool.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. But for that very reason he must. Listen to me, major; if he + doesn't care to please his daughter for her own sake, he will have to do + so for the sake of decency. Yes, I tell you, she has thoroughly + compromised herself—quite enough, if it is ever known, to spoil any + other engagement her father may make. Why, ask Adele! The day of the + earthquake she ABSOLUTELY had the audacity to send him out of the room + upstairs into your study for her fan, and then follow him up there alone. + The servants knew it. I knew it, for I was in her room at the time with + Father Antonio. The earthquake made it plain to everybody. Decline it! No. + Mr. Mallory will think twice about it before he does that. What's that? + Who's there?” + </p> + <p> + There was a sudden rustle in the bushes like the passage of some + frightened animal—and then all was still again. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + The sun, an hour high, but only just topping the greenish crests of the + wheat, was streaming like the morning breeze through the open length of + Tom Bent's workshed. An exaggerated and prolonged shadow of the young + inventor himself at work beside his bench was stretching itself far into + the broken-down ranks of stalks towards the invisible road, and falling at + the very feet of Rose Mallory as she emerged from them. + </p> + <p> + She was very pale, very quiet, and very determined. The traveling mantle + thrown over her shoulders was dusty, the ribbons that tied her hat under + her round chin had become unloosed. She advanced, walking down the line of + shadow directly towards him. + </p> + <p> + “I am afraid I will have to trouble you once more,” she said with a faint + smile, which did not, however, reach her perplexed eyes. “Could you give + me any kind of a conveyance that would take me to San Jose at once?” + </p> + <p> + The young man had started at the rustling of her dress in the shavings, + and turned eagerly. The faintest indication of a loss of interest was + visible for an instant in his face, but it quickly passed into a smile of + recognition. Yet she felt that he had neither noticed any change in her + appearance, nor experienced any wonder at seeing her there at that hour. + </p> + <p> + “I did not take a buggy from the house,” she went on quickly, “for I left + early, and did not want to disturb them. In fact, they don't know that I + am gone. I was worried at not hearing news from my father in San Francisco + since the earthquake, and I thought I would run down to San Jose to + inquire without putting them to any trouble. Anything will do that you + have ready, if I can take it at once.” + </p> + <p> + Still without exhibiting the least surprise, Bent nodded affirmatively, + put down his tools, begged her to wait a moment, and ran off in the + direction of the cabin. As he disappeared behind the wheat, she lapsed + quite suddenly against the work bench, but recovered herself a moment + later, leaning with her back against it, her hands grasping it on either + side, and her knit brows and determined little face turned towards the + road. Then she stood erect again, shook the dust out of her skirts, lifted + her veil, wiped her cheeks and brow with the corner of a small + handkerchief, and began walking up and down the length of the shed as Bent + reappeared. + </p> + <p> + He was accompanied by the man who had first led her through the wheat. He + gazed upon her with apparently all the curiosity and concern that the + other had lacked. + </p> + <p> + “You want to get to San Jose as quick as you can?” he said + interrogatively. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said quickly, “if you can help me.” + </p> + <p> + “You walked all the way from the major's here?” he continued, without + taking his eyes from her face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she answered with an affectation of carelessness she had not shown + to Bent. “But I started very early, it was cool and pleasant, and didn't + seem far.” + </p> + <p> + “I'll put you down in San Jose inside the hour. You shall have my horse + and trotting sulky, and I'll drive you myself. Will that do?” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him wonderingly. She had not forgotten his previous + restraint and gravity, but now his face seemed to have relaxed with some + humorous satisfaction. She felt herself coloring slightly, but whether + with shame or relief she could not tell. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be so much obliged to you,” she replied hesitatingly, “and so + will my father, I know.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon,” said the man with the same look of amused conjecture; then, + with a quick, assuring nod, he turned away, and dived into the wheat + again. + </p> + <p> + “You're all right now, Miss Mallory,” said Bent, complacently. “Dawson + will fix it. He's got a good horse, and he's a good driver, too.” He + paused, and then added pleasantly, “I suppose they're all well up at the + house?” + </p> + <p> + It was so evident that his remark carried no personal meaning to herself + that she was obliged to answer carelessly, “Oh, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you see a good deal of Miss Randolph—Miss Adele, I think + you call her?” he remarked tentatively, and with a certain boyish + enthusiasm, which she had never conceived possible to his nature. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied a little dryly, “she is the only young lady there.” She + stopped, remembering Adele's naive description of the man before her, and + said abruptly, “You know her, then?” + </p> + <p> + “A little,” replied the young man, modestly. “I see her pretty often when + I am passing the upper end of the ranch. She's very well brought up, and + her manners are very refined—don't you think so?—and yet she's + just as simple and natural as a country girl. There's a great deal in + education after all, isn't there?” he went on confidentially, “and + although”—he lowered his voice and looked cautiously around him—“I + believe that some of us here don't fancy her mother much, there's no doubt + that Mrs. Randolph knows how to bring up her children. Some people think + that kind of education is all artificial, and don't believe in it, but I + do!” + </p> + <p> + With the consciousness that she was running away from these people and the + shameful disclosure she had heard last night—with the recollection + of Adele's scandalous interpretation of her most innocent actions and her + sudden and complete revulsion against all that she had previously admired + in that household, to hear this man who had seemed to her a living protest + against their ideas and principles, now expressing them and holding them + up for emulation, almost took her breath away. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose that means you intend to fix Major Randolph's well for him?” + she said dryly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he returned without noticing her manner; “and I think I can find + that water again. I've been studying it up all night, and do you know what + I'm going to do? I am going to make the earthquake that lost it help me to + find it again.” He paused, and looked at her with a smile and a return of + his former enthusiasm. “Do you remember the crack in the adobe field that + stopped you yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the girl, with a slight shiver. + </p> + <p> + “I told you then that the same crack was a split in the rock outcrop + further up the plain, and was deeper. I am satisfied now, from what I have + seen, that it is really a rupture of the whole strata all the way down. + That's the one weak point that the imprisoned water is sure to find, and + that's where the borer will tap it—in the new well that the + earthquake itself has sunk.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed to her now that she understood his explanation perfectly, and + she wondered the more that he had been so mistaken in his estimate of + Adele. She turned away a little impatiently and looked anxiously towards + the point where Dawson had disappeared. Bent followed her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “He'll be here in a moment, Miss Mallory. He has to drive slowly through + the grain, but I hear the wheels.” He stopped, and his voice took up its + previous note of boyish hesitation. “By the way—I'll—I'll be + going up to the Rancho this afternoon to see the major. Have you any + message for Mrs. Randolph—or for—for Miss Adele?” + </p> + <p> + “No”—said Rose, hesitatingly, “and—and”— + </p> + <p> + “I see,” interrupted Bent, carelessly. “You don't want anything said about + your coming here. I won't.” + </p> + <p> + It struck her that he seemed to have no ulterior meaning in the + suggestion. But before she could make any reply, Dawson reappeared, + driving a handsome mare harnessed to a light, spider-like vehicle. He had + also assumed, evidently in great haste, a black frock coat buttoned over + his waistcoatless and cravatless shirt, and a tall black hat that already + seemed to be cracking in the sunlight. He drove up, at once assisted her + to the narrow perch beside him, and with a nod to Bent drove off. His + breathless expedition relieved the leave-taking of these young people of + any ceremony. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose,” said Mr. Dawson, giving a half glance over his shoulder as + they struck into the dusty highway,—“I suppose you don't care to see + anybody before you get to San Jose?” + </p> + <p> + “No-o-o,” said Rose, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “And I reckon you wouldn't mind my racin' a bit if anybody kem up?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + “The mare's sort o' fastidious about takin' anybody's dust.” + </p> + <p> + “Is she?” said Rose, with a faint smile. + </p> + <p> + “Awful,” responded her companion; “and the queerest thing of all is, she + can't bear to have any one behind her, either.” + </p> + <p> + He leaned forward with his expression of humorous enjoyment of some latent + joke and did something with the reins—Rose never could clearly + understand what, though it seemed to her that he simply lifted them with + ostentatious lightness; but the mare suddenly seemed to LENGTHEN herself + and lose her height, and the stalks of wheat on either side of the dusty + track began to melt into each other, and then slipped like a flash into + one long, continuous, shimmering green hedge. So perfect was the mare's + action that the girl was scarcely conscious of any increased effort; so + harmonious the whole movement that the light skeleton wagon seemed only a + prolonged process of that long, slim body and free, collarless neck, both + straight as the thin shafts on each side and straighter than the delicate + ribbon-like traces which, in what seemed a mere affectation of conscious + power, hung at times almost limp between the whiffle-tree and the narrow + breast band which was all that confined the animal's powerful + fore-quarters. So superb was the reach of its long easy stride that Rose + could scarcely see any undulations in the brown shining back on which she + could have placed her foot, nor felt the soft beat of the delicate hoofs + that took the dust so firmly and yet so lightly. + </p> + <p> + The rapidity of motion which kept them both with heads bent forward and + seemed to force back any utterance that rose to their lips spared Rose the + obligation of conversation, and her companion was equally reticent. But it + was evident to her that he half suspected she was running away from the + Randolphs, and that she wished to avoid the embarrassment of being + overtaken even in persuasive pursuit. It was not possible that he knew the + cause of her flight, and yet she could not account for his evident desire + to befriend her, nor, above all, for his apparently humorous enjoyment of + the situation. Had he taken it gravely, she might have been tempted to + partly confide in him and ask his advice. Was she doing right, after all? + Ought she not to have stayed long enough to speak her mind to Mrs. + Randolph and demand to be sent home? No! She had not only shrunk from + repeating the infamous slander she had overheard, but she had a terrible + fear that if she had done so, Mrs. Randolph was capable of denying it, or + even charging her of being still under the influence of the earthquake + shock and of walking in her sleep. No! She could not trust her—she + could trust no one there. Had not even the major listened to those + infamous lies? Had she not seen that he was helpless in the hands of this + cabal in his own household?—a cabal that she herself had + thoughtlessly joined against him. + </p> + <p> + They had reached the first slight ascent. Her companion drew out his + watch, looked at it with satisfaction, and changed the position of his + hands on the reins. Without being able to detect the difference, she felt + they were slackening speed. She turned inquiringly towards him; he nodded + his head, with a half smile and a gesture to her to look ahead. The spires + of San Jose were already faintly uplifting from the distant fringe of + oaks. + </p> + <p> + So soon! In fifteen minutes she would be there—and THEN! She + remembered suddenly she had not yet determined what to do. Should she go + on at once to San Francisco, or telegraph to her father and await him at + San Jose? In either case a new fear of the precipitancy of her action and + the inadequacy of her reasons had sprung up in her mind. Would her father + understand her? Would he underrate the cause and be mortified at the + insult she had given the family of his old friend, or, more dreadful + still, would he exaggerate her wrongs and seek a personal quarrel with the + major. He was a man of quick temper, and had the Western ideas of redress. + Perhaps even now she was precipitating a duel between them. Her cheeks + grew wan again, her breath came quickly, tears gathered in her eyes. Oh, + she was a dreadful girl, she knew it; she was an utterly miserable one, + and she knew that too! + </p> + <p> + The reins were tightened. The pace lessened and at last fell to a walk. + Conscious of her telltale eyes and troubled face, she dared not turn to + her companion to ask him why, but glanced across the fields. + </p> + <p> + “When you first came I didn't get to know your name, Miss Mallory, but I + reckon I know your father.” + </p> + <p> + Her father! What made him say that? She wanted to speak, but she felt she + could not. In another moment, if he went on, she must do SOMETHING—she + would cry! + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you'll be wanting to go to the hotel first, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + There!—she knew it! He WOULD keep on! And now she had burst into + tears. + </p> + <p> + The mare was still walking slowly; the man was lazily bending forward over + the shafts as if nothing had occurred. Then suddenly, illogically, and + without a moment's warning, the pride that had sustained her crumbled and + became as the dust of the road. + </p> + <p> + She burst out and told him—this stranger!—this man she had + disliked!—all and EVERYTHING. How she had felt, how she had been + deceived, and what she had overheard! + </p> + <p> + “I thought as much,” said her companion, quietly, “and that's why I sent + for your father.” + </p> + <p> + “You sent for my father!—when?—where?” echoed Rose, in + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “Yesterday. He was to come to-day, and if we don't find him at the hotel + it will be because he has already started to come here by the upper and + longer road. But you leave it to ME, and don't you say anything to him of + this now. If he's at the hotel, I'll say I drove you down there to show + off the mare. Sabe? If he isn't, I'll leave you there and come back here + to find him. I've got something to tell him that will set YOU all right.” + He smiled grimly, lifted the reins, the mare started forward again, and + the vehicle and its occupants disappeared in a vanishing dust cloud. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + It was nearly noon when Mr. Dawson finished rubbing down his sweating mare + in the little stable shed among the wheat. He had left Rose at the hotel, + for they found Mr. Mallory had previously started by a circuitous route + for the wheat ranch. He had resumed not only his working clothes but his + working expression. He was now superintending the unloading of a wain of + stores and implements when the light carryall of the Randolphs rolled into + the field. It contained only Mrs. Randolph and the driver. A slight look + of intelligence passed between the latter and the nearest one of Dawson's + companions, succeeded, however, by a dull look of stupid vacancy on the + faces of all the others, including Dawson. Mrs. Randolph noticed it, and + was forewarned. She reflected that no human beings ever looked NATURALLY + as stupid as that and were able to work. She smiled sarcastically, and + then began with dry distinctness and narrowing lips. + </p> + <p> + “Miss Mallory, a young lady visiting us, went out for an early walk this + morning and has not returned. It is possible she may have lost her way + among your wheat. Have you seen anything of her?” + </p> + <p> + Dawson raised his eyes from his work and glanced slowly around at his + companions, as if taking the heavy sense of the assembly. One or two shook + their heads mechanically, and returned to their suspended labor. He said, + coolly:— + </p> + <p> + “Nobody here seems to.” + </p> + <p> + She felt that they were lying. She was only a woman against five men. She + was only a petty domestic tyrant; she might have been a larger one. But + she had all the courage of that possibility. + </p> + <p> + “Major Randolph and my son are away,” she went on, drawing herself erect. + “But I know that the major will pay liberally if these men will search the + field, besides making it all right with your—EMPLOYERS—for the + loss of time.” + </p> + <p> + Dawson uttered a single word in a low voice to the man nearest him, who + apparently communicated it to the others, for the four men stopped + unloading, and moved away one after the other—even the driver + joining in the exodus. Mrs. Randolph smiled sarcastically; it was plain + that these people, with all their boasted independence, were quite + amenable to pecuniary considerations. Nevertheless, as Dawson remained + looking quietly at her, she said:— + </p> + <p> + “Then I suppose they've concluded to go and see?” + </p> + <p> + “No; I've sent them away so that they couldn't HEAR.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear what?” + </p> + <p> + “What I've got to say to you.” + </p> + <p> + She looked at him suddenly. Then she said, with a disdainful glance around + her: “I see I am helpless here, and—thanks to your trickery—alone. + Have a care, sir; I warn you that you will have to answer to Major + Randolph for any insolence.” + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you won't tell Major Randolph what I have to say to you,” he + returned coolly. + </p> + <p> + Her lips were nearly a grayish hue, but she said scornfully: “And why not? + Do you know who you are talking to?” + </p> + <p> + The man came lazily forward to the carryall, carelessly brushed aside the + slack reins, and resting his elbows on the horse's back, laid his chin on + his hands, as he looked up in the woman's face. + </p> + <p> + “Yes; I know who I'm talking to,” he said coolly. “But as the major don't, + I reckon you won't tell him.” + </p> + <p> + “Stand away from that horse!” she said, her whole face taking the grayish + color of her lips, but her black eyes growing smaller and brighter. “Hand + me those reins, and let me pass! What canaille are you to stop me?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” returned the man, without altering his position; “you + don't know ME. You never saw ME before. Well, I'm Jim Dawson, the nephew + of L'Hommadieu, YOUR OLD MASTER!” + </p> + <p> + She gripped the iron rail of the seat as if to leap from it, but checked + herself suddenly and leaned back, with a set smile on her mouth that + seemed stamped there. It was remarkable that with that smile she flung + away her old affectation of superciliousness for an older and ruder + audacity, and that not only the expression, but the type of her face + appeared to have changed. + </p> + <p> + “I don't say,” continued the man quietly, “that he didn't MARRY you before + he died. But you know as well as I do that the laws of his State didn't + recognize the marriage of a master with his octoroon slave! And you know + as well as I do that even if he had freed you, he couldn't change your + blood. Why, if I'd been willing to stay at Avoyelles to be a nigger-driver + like him, the plantation of 'de Fontanges'—whose name you have taken—would + have been left to me. If YOU had stayed there, you might have been my + property instead of YOUR owning a square man like Randolph. You didn't + think of that when you came here, did you?” he said composedly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, mon Dieu!” she said, dropping rapidly into a different accent, with + her white teeth and fixed mirthless smile, “so it is a claim for PROPERTY, + eh? You're wanting money—you? Tres bien, you forget we are in + California, where one does not own a slave. And you have a fine story + there, my poor friend. Very pretty, but very hard to prove, m'sieu. And + these peasants are in it, eh, working it on shares like the farm, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Dawson, slightly changing his position, and passing his hand + over the horse's neck with a half-wearied contempt, “one of these men is + from Plaquemine, and the other from Coupee. They know all the + l'Hommadieus' history. And they know a streak of the tar brush when they + see it. They took your measure when they came here last year, and sized + you up fairly. So had I, for the matter of that, when I FIRST saw you. And + we compared notes. But the major is a square man, for all he is your + husband, and we reckoned he had a big enough contract on his hands to take + care of you and l'Hommadieu's half-breeds, and so”—he tossed the + reins contemptuously aside—“we kept this to ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “And now you want—what—eh?” + </p> + <p> + “We want an end to this foolery,” he broke out roughly, stepping back from + the vehicle, and facing her suddenly, with his first angry gesture. “We + want an end to these airs and grimaces, and all this dandy nigger + business; we want an end to this 'cake-walking' through the wheat, and + flouting of the honest labor of your betters. We want you and your 'de + Fontanges' to climb down. And we want an end to this roping-in of white + folks to suit your little game; we want an end to your trying to mix your + nigger blood with any one here, and we intend to stop it. We draw the line + at the major.” + </p> + <p> + Lashed as she had been by those words apparently out of all semblance of + her former social arrogance, a lower and more stubborn resistance seemed + to have sprung up in her, as she sat sideways, watching him with her set + smile and contracting eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” she said dryly, “so SHE IS HERE. I thought so. Which of you is it, + eh? It's a good spec—Mallory's a rich man. She's not particular.” + </p> + <p> + The man had stopped as if listening, his head turned towards the road. + Then he turned carelessly, and facing her again, waved his hand with a + gesture of tired dismissal, and said, “Go! You'll find your driver over + there by the tool-shed. He has heard nothing yet—but I've given you + fair warning. Go!” + </p> + <p> + He walked slowly back towards the shed, as the woman, snatching up the + reins, drove violently off in the direction where the men had disappeared. + But she turned aside, ignoring her waiting driver in her wild and reckless + abandonment of all her old conventional attitudes, and lashing her horse + forward with the same set smile on her face, the same odd relaxation of + figure, and the same squaring of her elbows. + </p> + <p> + Avoiding the main road, she pushed into a narrow track that intersected + another nearer the scene of the accident to Rose's buggy three weeks + before. She had nearly passed it when she was hailed by a strange voice, + and looking up, perceived a horseman floundering in the mazes of the wheat + to one side of the track. Whatever mean thought of her past life she was + flying from, whatever mean purpose she was flying to, she pulled up + suddenly, and as suddenly resumed her erect, aggressive stiffness. The + stranger was a middle-aged man; in dress and appearance a dweller of + cities. He lifted his hat as he perceived the occupant of the wagon to be + a lady. + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, but I fear I've lost my way in trying to make a short + cut to the Excelsior Company's Ranch.” + </p> + <p> + “You are in it now,” said Mrs. Randolph, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, but where can I find the farmhouse?” + </p> + <p> + “There is none,” she returned, with her old superciliousness, “unless you + choose to give that name to the shanties and sheds where the laborers and + servants live, near the road.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger looked puzzled. “I'm looking for a Mr. Dawson,” he said + reflectively, “but I may have made some mistake. Do you know Major + Randolph's house hereabouts?” + </p> + <p> + “I do. I am Mrs. Randolph,” she said stiffly. + </p> + <p> + The stranger's brow cleared, and he smiled pleasantly. “Then this is a + fortunate meeting,” he said, raising his hat again as he reined in his + horse beside the wagon, “for I am Mr. Mallory, and I was looking forward + to the pleasure of presenting myself to you an hour or two later. The fact + is, an old acquaintance, Mr. Dawson, telegraphed me yesterday to meet him + here on urgent business, and I felt obliged to go there first.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Randolph's eyes sparkled with a sudden gratified intelligence, but + her manner seemed rather to increase than abate its grim precision. + </p> + <p> + “Our meeting this morning, Mr. Mallory, is both fortunate and unfortunate, + for I regret to say that your daughter, who has not been quite herself + since the earthquake, was missing early this morning and has not yet been + found, though we have searched everywhere. Understand me,” she said, as + the stranger started, “I have no fear for her PERSONAL safety, I am only + concerned for any INDISCRETION that she may commit in the presence of + these strangers whose company she would seem to prefer to ours.” + </p> + <p> + “But I don't understand you, madam,” said Mallory, sternly; “you are + speaking of my daughter, and”— + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, Mr. Mallory,” said Mrs. Randolph, lifting her hand with her + driest deprecation and her most desiccating smile, “I'm not passing + judgment or criticism. I am of a foreign race, and consequently do not + understand the freedom of American young ladies, and their familiarity + with the opposite sex. I make no charges, I only wish to assure you that + she will no doubt be found in the company and under the protection of her + own countrymen. There is,” she added with ironical distinctness, “a young + mechanic, or field hand, or 'quack well-doctor,' whom she seems to admire, + and with whom she appears to be on equal terms.” + </p> + <p> + Mallory regarded her for a moment fixedly, and then his sternness relaxed + to a mischievously complacent smile. “That must be young Bent, of whom + I've heard,” he said with unabated cheerfulness. “And I don't know but + what she may be with him, after all. For now I think of it, a + chuckle-headed fellow, of whom a moment ago I inquired the way to your + house, told me I'd better ask the young man and young woman who were + 'philandering through the wheat' yonder. Suppose we look for them. From + what I've heard of Bent he's too much wrapped up in his inventions for + flirtation, but it would be a good joke to stumble upon them.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Randolph's eyes sparkled with a mingling of gratified malice and + undisguised contempt for the fatuous father beside her. But before she + could accept or decline the challenge, it had become useless. A murmur of + youthful voices struck her ear, and she suddenly stood upright and + transfixed in the carriage. For lounging down slowly towards them out of + the dim green aisles of the arbored wheat, lost in themselves and the + shimmering veil of their seclusion, came the engineer, Thomas Bent, and on + his arm, gazing ingenuously into his face, the figure of Adele,—her + own perfect daughter. + </p> + <p> + “I don't think, my dear,” said Mr. Mallory, as the anxious Rose flew into + his arms on his return to San Jose, a few hours later, “that it will be + necessary for you to go back again to Major Randolph's before we leave. I + have said 'Good-by' for you and thanked them, and your trunks are packed + and will be sent here. The fact is, my dear, you see this affair of the + earthquake and the disaster to the artesian well have upset all their + arrangements, and I am afraid that my little girl would be only in their + way just now.” + </p> + <p> + “And you have seen Mr. Dawson—and you know why he sent for you?” + asked the young girl, with nervous eagerness. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes,” said Mr. Mallory thoughtfully, “THAT was really important. You + see, my child,” he continued, taking her hand in one of his own and + patting the back of it gently with the other, “we think, Dawson and I, of + taking over the major's ranch and incorporating it with the Excelsior in + one, to be worked on shares like the Excelsior; and as Mrs. Randolph is + very anxious to return to the Atlantic States with her children, it is + quite possible. Mrs. Randolph, as you have possibly noticed,” Mr. Mallory + went on, still patting his daughter's hand, “does not feel entirely at + home here, and will consequently leave the major free to rearrange, by + himself, the ranch on the new basis. In fact, as the change must be made + before the crops come in, she talks of going next week. But if you like + the place, Rose, I've no doubt the major and Dawson will always find room + for you and me when we run down there for a little fresh air.” + </p> + <p> + “And did you have all that in your mind, papa, when you came down here, + and was that what you and Mr. Dawson wanted to talk about?” said the + astonished Rose. + </p> + <p> + “Mainly, my dear, mainly. You see I'm a capitalist now, and the real value + of capital is to know how and when to apply it to certain conditions.” + </p> + <p> + “And this Mr.—Mr. Bent—do you think—he will go on and + find the water, papa?” said Rose, hesitatingly. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Bent—Tom Bent—oh, yes,” said Mallory, with great + heartiness. “Capital fellow, Bent! and mighty ingenious! Glad you met him! + Well,” thoughtfully but still heartily, “he may not find it exactly where + he expected, but he'll find it or something better. We can't part with + him, and he has promised Dawson to stay. We'll utilize HIM, you may be + sure.” + </p> + <p> + It would seem that they did, and from certain interviews and conversations + that took place between Mr. Bent and Miss Mallory on a later visit, it + would also appear that her father had exercised a discreet reticence in + regard to a certain experiment of the young inventor, of which he had been + an accidental witness. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + A MAECENAS OF THE PACIFIC SLOPE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <p> + As Mr. Robert Rushbrook, known to an imaginative press as the “Maecenas of + the Pacific Slope,” drove up to his country seat, equally referred to as a + “palatial villa,” he cast a quick but practical look at the pillared + pretensions of that enormous shell of wood and paint and plaster. The + statement, also a reportorial one, that its site, the Canyon of Los Osos, + “some three years ago was disturbed only by the passing tread of bear and + wild-cat,” had lost some of its freshness as a picturesque apology, and + already successive improvements on the original building seemingly cast + the older part of the structure back to a hoary antiquity. To many it + stood as a symbol of everything Robert Rushbrook did or had done—an + improvement of all previous performances; it was like his own life—an + exciting though irritating state of transition to something better. Yet + the visible architectural result, as here shown, was scarcely harmonious; + indeed, some of his friends—and Maecenas had many—professed to + classify the various improvements by the successive fortunate ventures in + their owner's financial career, which had led to new additions, under the + names, of “The Comstock Lode Period,” “The Union Pacific Renaissance,” + “The Great Wheat Corner,” and “Water Front Gable Style,” a humorous + trifling that did not, however, prevent a few who were artists from + accepting Maecenas's liberal compensation for their services in giving + shape to those ideas. + </p> + <p> + Relinquishing to a groom his fast-trotting team, the second relay in his + two hours' drive from San Francisco, he leaped to the ground to meet the + architect, already awaiting his orders in the courtyard. With his eyes + still fixed upon the irregular building before him, he mingled his + greeting and his directions. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Barker, we'll have a wing thrown out here, and a hundred-foot + ballroom. Something to hold a crowd; something that can be used for music—sabe?—a + concert, or a show.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you thought of any style, Mr. Rushbrook?” suggested the architect. + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Rushbrook; “I've been thinking of the time—thirty days, + and everything to be in. You'll stop to dinner. I'll have you sit near + Jack Somers. You can talk style to him. Say I told you.” + </p> + <p> + “You wish it completed in thirty days?” repeated the architect, dubiously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I shouldn't mind if it were less. You can begin at once. There's a + telegraph in the house. Patrick will take any message, and you can send up + to San Francisco and fix things before dinner.” + </p> + <p> + Before the man could reply, Rushbrook was already giving a hurried + interview to the gardener and others on his way to the front porch. In + another moment he had entered his own hall,—a wonderful temple of + white and silver plaster, formal, yet friable like the sugared erection of + a wedding cake,—where his major-domo awaited him. + </p> + <p> + “Well, who's here?” asked Rushbrook, still advancing towards his + apartments. + </p> + <p> + “Dinner is set for thirty, sir,” said the functionary, keeping step + demurely with his master, “but Mr. Appleby takes ten over to San Mateo, + and some may sleep there. The char-a-banc is still out and five + saddle-horses, to a picnic in Green Canyon, and I can't positively say, + but I should think you might count on seeing about forty-five guests + before you go to town to-morrow. The opera troupe seem to have not exactly + understood the invitation, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “How? I gave it myself.” + </p> + <p> + “The chorus and supernumeraries thought themselves invited too, sir, and + have come, I believe, sir. At least Signora Pegrelli and Madame Denise + said so, and that they would speak to you about it, but that meantime I + could put them up anywhere.” + </p> + <p> + “And you made no distinction, of course?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I put them in the corresponding rooms opposite, sir. I don't + think the prima donnas like it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Whatever was in their minds, the two men never changed their steady, + practical gravity of manner. The major-domo's appeared to be a subdued + imitation of his master's, worn, as he might have worn his master's + clothes, had he accepted, or Mr. Rushbrook permitted, such a degradation. + By this time they had reached the door of Mr. Rushbrook's room, and the + man paused. “I didn't include some guests of Mr. Leyton's, sir, that he + brought over here to show around the place, but he told me to tell you he + would take them away again, or leave them, as you liked. They're some + Eastern strangers stopping with him.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Rushbrook, quietly, as he entered his own apartment. It + was decorated as garishly as the hall, as staring and vivid in color, but + wholesomely new and clean for all its paint, veneering, and plaster. It + was filled with heterogeneous splendor—all new and well kept, yet + with so much of the attitude of the show-room still lingering about it + that one almost expected to see the various articles of furniture ticketed + with their prices. A luxurious bed, with satin hangings and Indian carved + posts, standing ostentatiously in a corner, kept up this resemblance, for + in a curtained recess stood a worn camp bedstead, Rushbrook's real couch, + Spartan in its simplicity. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rushbrook drew his watch from his pocket, and deliberately divested + himself of his boots, coat, waistcoat, and cravat. Then rolling himself in + a fleecy, blanket-like rug with something of the habitual dexterity of a + frontiersman, he threw himself on his couch, closed his eyes, and went + instantly to sleep. Lying there, he appeared to be a man comfortably + middle-aged, with thick iron-gray hair that might have curled had he + encouraged such inclination; a skin roughened and darkened by external + hardships and exposure, but free from taint of inner vice or excess, and + indistinctive features redeemed by a singularly handsome mouth. As the + lower part of the face was partly hidden by a dense but closely-cropped + beard, it is probable that the delicate outlines of his lips had gained + something from their framing. + </p> + <p> + He slept, through what seemed to be the unnatural stillness of the large + house,—a quiet that might have come from the lingering influence of + the still virgin solitude around it, as if Nature had forgotten the + intrusion, or were stealthily retaking her own; and later, through the + rattle of returning wheels or the sound of voices, which were, however, + promptly absorbed in that deep and masterful silence which was the + unabdicating genius of the canyon. For it was remarkable that even the + various artists, musicians, orators, and poets whom Maecenas had gathered + in his cool business fashion under that roof, all seemed to become, by + contrast with surrounding Nature, as new and artificial as the house, and + as powerless to assert themselves against its influence. + </p> + <p> + He was still sleeping when James re-entered the room, but awoke promptly + at the sound of his voice. In a few moments he had rearranged his scarcely + disordered toilette, and stepped out refreshed and observant into the + hall. The guests were still absent from that part of the building, and he + walked leisurely past the carelessly opened doors of the rooms they had + left. Everywhere he met the same glaring ornamentation and color, the same + garishness of treatment, the same inharmonious extravagance of furniture, + and everywhere the same troubled acceptance of it by the inmates, or the + same sense of temporary and restricted tenancy. Dresses were hung over + cheval glasses; clothes piled up on chairs to avoid the use of doubtful + and over ornamented wardrobes, and in some cases more practical guests had + apparently encamped in a corner of their apartment. A gentleman from + Siskyou—sole proprietor of a mill patent now being considered by + Maecenas—had confined himself to a rocking-chair and clothes-horse + as being trustworthy and familiar; a bolder spirit from Yreka—in + treaty for capital to start an independent journal devoted to Maecenas's + interests—had got a good deal out of, and indeed all he had INTO, a + Louis XVI. armoire; while a young painter from Sacramento had simply + retired into his adjoining bath-room, leaving the glories of his bedroom + untarnished. Suddenly he paused. + </p> + <p> + He had turned into a smaller passage in order to make a shorter cut + through one of the deserted suites of apartments that should bring him to + that part of the building where he designed to make his projected + improvement, when his feet were arrested on the threshold of a + sitting-room. Although it contained the same decoration and furniture as + the other rooms, it looked totally different! It was tasteful, luxurious, + comfortable, and habitable. The furniture seemed to have fallen into + harmonious position; even the staring decorations of the walls and ceiling + were toned down by sprays of laurel and red-stained manzanito boughs with + their berries, apparently fresh plucked from the near canyon. But he was + more unexpectedly impressed to see that the room was at that moment + occupied by a tall, handsome girl, who had paused to take breath, with her + hand still on the heavy centre-table she was moving. Standing there, + graceful, glowing, and animated, she looked the living genius of the + recreated apartment. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <p> + Mr. Rushbrook glanced rapidly at his unknown guest. “Excuse me,” he said, + with respectful business brevity, “but I thought every one was out,” and + he stepped backward quickly. + </p> + <p> + “I've only just come,” she said without embarrassment, “and would you + mind, as you ARE here, giving me a lift with this table?” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” replied Rushbrook, and under the young girl's direction the + millionaire moved the table to one side. + </p> + <p> + During the operation he was trying to determine which of his unrecognized + guests the fair occupant was. Possibly one of the Leyton party, that James + had spoken of as impending. + </p> + <p> + “Then you have changed all the furniture, and put up these things?” he + asked, pointing to the laurel. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the room was really something TOO awful. It looks better now, don't + you think?” + </p> + <p> + “A hundred per cent.,” said Rushbrook, promptly. “Look here, I'll tell you + what you've done. You've set the furniture TO WORK! It was simply lying + still—with no return to anybody on the investment.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl opened her gray eyes at this, and then smiled. The intruder + seemed to be characteristic of California. As for Rushbrook, he regretted + that he did not know her better, he would at once have asked her to + rearrange all the rooms, and have managed in some way liberally to reward + her for it. A girl like that had no nonsense about her. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she said, “I wonder Mr. Rushbrook don't look at it in that way. It + is a shame that all these pretty things—and you know they are really + good and valuable—shouldn't show what they are. But I suppose + everybody here accepts the fact that this man simply buys them because + they are valuable, and nobody interferes, and is content to humor him, + laugh at him, and feel superior. It don't strike me as quite fair, does it + you?” + </p> + <p> + Rushbrook was pleased. Without the vanity that would be either annoyed at + this revelation of his reputation, or gratified at her defense of it, he + was simply glad to discover that she had not recognized him as her host, + and could continue the conversation unreservedly. “Have you seen the + ladies' boudoir?” he asked. “You know, the room fitted with knick-knacks + and pretty things—some of 'em bought from old collections in Europe, + by fellows who knew what they were but perhaps,” he added, looking into + her eyes for the first time, “didn't know exactly what ladies cared for.” + </p> + <p> + “I merely glanced in there when I first came, for there was such a queer + lot of women—I'm told he isn't very particular in that way—that + I didn't stay.” + </p> + <p> + “And you didn't think THEY might be just as valuable and good as some of + the furniture, if they could have been pulled around and put into shape, + or set in a corner, eh?” + </p> + <p> + The young girl smiled; she thought her fellow-guest rather amusing, none + the less so, perhaps, for catching up her own ideas, but nevertheless she + slightly shrugged her shoulders with that hopeless skepticism which women + reserve for their own sex. “Some of them looked as if they had been pulled + around, as you say, and hadn't been improved by it.” + </p> + <p> + “There's no one there now,” said Rushbrook, with practical directness; + “come and take a look at it.” She complied without hesitation, walking by + his side, tall, easy, and self-possessed, apparently accepting without + self-consciousness his half paternal, half comrade-like informality. The + boudoir was a large room, repeating on a bigger scale the incongruousness + and ill fitting splendor of the others. When she had of her own accord + recognized and pointed out the more admirable articles, he said, gravely + looking at his watch, “We've just about seven minutes yet; if you'd like + to pull and haul these things around, I'll help you.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl smiled. “I'm quite content with what I've done in my own + room, where I have no one's taste to consult but my own. I hardly know how + Mr. Rushbrook, or his lady friends, might like my operating here.” Then + recognizing with feminine tact the snub that might seem implied in her + refusal, she said quickly, “Tell me something about our host—but + first look! isn't that pretty?” + </p> + <p> + She had stopped before the window that looked upon the dim blue abyss of + the canyon, and was leaning out to gaze upon it. Rushbrook joined her. + </p> + <p> + “There isn't much to be changed down THERE, is there?” he said, half + interrogatively. + </p> + <p> + “No, not unless Mr. Rushbrook took it into his head to roof it in, and + somebody was ready with a contract to do it. But what do you know of him? + Remember, I'm quite a stranger here.” + </p> + <p> + “You came with Charley Leyton?” + </p> + <p> + “With MRS. Leyton's party,” said the young girl, with a half-smiling + emphasis. “But it seems that we don't know whether Mr. Rushbrook wants us + here or not till he comes. And the drollest thing about it is that they're + all so perfectly frank in saying so.” + </p> + <p> + “Charley and he are old friends, and you'll do well to trust to their + judgment.” + </p> + <p> + This was hardly the kind of response that the handsome and clever society + girl before him had been in the habit of receiving, but it amused her. Her + fellow-guest was decidedly original. But he hadn't told her about + Rushbrook, and it struck her that his opinion would be independent, at + least. She reminded him of it. + </p> + <p> + “Look here,” said Rushbrook, “you'll meet a man here to-night—or + he'll be sure to meet YOU—who'll tell you all about Rushbrook. He's + a smart chap, knows everybody and talks well. His name is Jack Somers; he + is a great ladies' man. He can talk to you about these sort of things, + too,”—indicating the furniture with a half tolerant, half + contemptuous gesture, that struck her as inconsistent with what seemed to + be his previous interest,—“just as well as he can talk of people. + Been in Europe, too.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl's eye brightened with a quick vivacity at the name, but a + moment after became reflective and slightly embarrassed. “I know him—I + met him at Mr. Leyton's. He has already talked of Mr. Rushbrook, but,” she + added, avoiding any conclusion, with a pretty pout, “I'd like to have the + opinion of others. Yours, now, I fancy would be quite independent.” + </p> + <p> + “You stick to what Jack Somers has said, good or bad, and you won't be far + wrong,” he said assuringly. He stopped; his quick ear had heard + approaching voices; he returned to her and held out his hand. As it seemed + to her that in California everybody shook hands with everybody else on the + slightest occasions, sometimes to save further conversation, she gave him + her own. He shook it, less forcibly than she had feared, and abruptly left + her. For a moment she was piqued at this superior and somewhat brusque way + of ignoring her request, but reflecting that it might be the awkwardness + of an untrained man, she dismissed it from her mind. The voices of her + friends in the already resounding passages also recalled her to the fact + that she had been wandering about the house with a stranger, and she + rejoined them a little self-consciously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my dear,” said Mrs. Leyton, gayly, “it seems we are to stay. Leyton + says Rushbrook won't hear of our going.” + </p> + <p> + “Does that mean that your husband takes the whole opera troupe over to + your house in exchange?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be satirical, but congratulate yourself on your opportunity of + seeing an awfully funny gathering. I wouldn't have you miss it for the + world. It's the most characteristic thing out.” + </p> + <p> + “Characteristic of what?” + </p> + <p> + “Of Rushbrook, of course. Nobody else would conceive of getting together + such a lot of queer people.” + </p> + <p> + “But don't it strike you that we're a part of the lot?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps,” returned the lively Mrs. Leyton. “No doubt that's the reason + why Jack Somers is coming over, and is so anxious that YOU should stay. I + can't imagine why else he should rave about Miss Grace Nevil as he does. + Come, Grace, no New York or Philadelphia airs, here! Consider your uncle's + interests with this capitalist, to say nothing of ours. Because you're a + millionaire and have been accustomed to riches from your birth, don't turn + up your nose at our unpampered appetites. Besides, Jack Somers is + Rushbrook's particular friend, and he may think your criticisms unkind.” + </p> + <p> + “But IS Mr. Somers such a great friend of Mr. Rushbrook's?” asked Grace + Nevil. + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course. Rushbrook consults him about all these things; gives him + carte blanche to invite whom he likes and order what he likes, and trusts + his taste and judgment implicitly.” + </p> + <p> + “Then this gathering is Mr. Somers's selection?” + </p> + <p> + “How preposterous you are, Grace. Of course not. Only Somers's IDEA of + what is pleasing to Rushbrook, gotten up with a taste and discretion all + his own. You know Somers is a gentleman, educated at West Point—traveled + all over Europe—you might have met him there; and Rushbrook—well, + you have only to see him to know what HE is. Don't you understand?” + </p> + <p> + A slight seriousness; the same shadow that once before darkened the girl's + charming face gave way to a mischievous knitting of her brows as she said + naively, “No.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <p> + Grace Nevil had quite recovered her equanimity when the indispensable Mr. + Somers, handsome, well-bred, and self-restrained, approached her later in + the crowded drawing-room. Blended with his subdued personal admiration was + a certain ostentation of respect—as of a tribute to a distinguished + guest—that struck her. “I am to have the pleasure of taking you in, + Miss Nevil,” he said. “It's my one compensation for the dreadful + responsibility just thrust upon me. Our host has been suddenly called + away, and I am left to take his place.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Nevil was slightly startled. Nevertheless, she smiled graciously. + “From what I hear this is no new function of yours; that is, if there + really IS a Mr. Rushbrook. I am inclined to think him a myth.” + </p> + <p> + “You make me wish he were,” retorted Somers, gallantly; “but as I couldn't + reign at all, except in his stead, I shall look to you to lend your + rightful grace to my borrowed dignity.” + </p> + <p> + The more general announcement to the company was received with a few + perfidious regrets from the more polite, but with only amused surprise by + the majority. Indeed, many considered it “characteristic”—“so like + Bob Rushbrook,” and a few enthusiastic friends looked upon it as a + crowning and intentional stroke of humor. It remained, however, for the + gentleman from Siskyou to give the incident a subtlety that struck Miss + Nevil's fancy. “It reminds me,” he said in her hearing, “of ole Kernel + Frisbee, of Robertson County, one of the purlitest men I ever struck. When + he knew a feller was very dry, he'd jest set the decanter afore him, and + managed to be called outer the room on bus'ness. Now, Bob Rushbrook's + about as white a man as that. He's jest the feller, who, knowing you and + me might feel kinder restrained about indulging our appetites afore him, + kinder drops out easy, and leaves us alone.” And she was impressed by an + instinct that the speaker really felt the delicacy he spoke of, and that + it left no sense of inferiority behind. + </p> + <p> + The dinner, served in a large, brilliantly-lit saloon, that in floral + decoration and gilded columns suggested an ingenious blending of a + steamboat table d'hote and “harvest home,” was perfect in its cuisine, + even if somewhat extravagant in its proportions. + </p> + <p> + “I should be glad to receive the salary that Rushbrook pays his chef, and + still happier to know how to earn it as fairly,” said Somers to his fair + companion. + </p> + <p> + “But is his skill entirely appreciated here?” she asked. + </p> + <p> + “Perfectly,” responded Somers. “Our friend from Siskyou over there + appreciates that 'pate' which he cannot name as well as I do. Rushbrook + himself is the only exception, yet I fancy that even HIS simplicity and + regularity in feeding is as much a matter of business with him as any + defect in his earlier education. In his eyes, his chef's greatest + qualification is his promptness and fertility. Have you noticed that + ornament before you?” pointing to an elaborate confection. “It bears your + initials, you see. It was conceived and executed since you arrived—rather, + I should say, since it was known that you would honor us with your + company. The greatest difficulty encountered was to find out what your + initials were.” + </p> + <p> + “And I suppose,” mischievously added the young girl to her + acknowledgments, “that the same fertile mind which conceived the design + eventually provided the initials?” + </p> + <p> + “That is our secret,” responded Somers, with affected gravity. + </p> + <p> + The wines were of characteristic expensiveness, and provoked the same + general comment. Rushbrook seldom drank wine; Somers had selected it. But + the barbaric opulence of the entertainment culminated in the Californian + fruits, piled in pyramids on silver dishes, gorgeous and unreal in their + size and painted beauty, and the two Divas smiled over a basket of grapes + and peaches as outrageous in dimensions and glaring color as any + pasteboard banquet at which they had professionally assisted. As the + courses succeeded each other, under the exaltation of wine, conversation + became more general as regarded participation, but more local and private + as regarded the subject, until Miss Nevil could no longer follow it. The + interests of that one, the hopes of another, the claims of a third, in + affairs that were otherwise uninteresting, were all discussed with + singular youthfulness of trust that to her alone seemed remarkable. Not + that she lacked entertainment from the conversation of her clever + companion, whose confidences and criticisms were very pleasant to her; but + she had a gentlewoman's instinct that he talked to her too much, and more + than was consistent with his duties as the general host. She looked around + the table for her singular acquaintance of an hour before, but she had not + seen him since. She would have spoken about him to Somers, but she had an + instinctive idea that the latter would be antipathetic, in spite of the + stranger's flattering commendation. So she found herself again following + Somers's cynical but good-humored description of the various guests, and, + I fear, seeing with his eyes, listening with his ears, and occasionally + participating in his superior attitude. The “fearful joy” she had found in + the novelty of the situation and the originality of the actors seemed now + quite right from this critical point of view. So she learned how the guest + with the long hair was an unknown painter, to whom Rushbrook had given a + commission for three hundred yards of painted canvas, to be cut up and + framed as occasion and space required, in Rushbrook's new hotel in San + Francisco; how the gray-bearded foreigner near him was an accomplished + bibliophile who was furnishing Mr. Rushbrook's library from spoils of + foreign collections, and had suffered unheard-of agonies from the + millionaire's insisting upon a handsome uniform binding that should + deprive certain precious but musty tomes of their crumbling, worm-eaten + coverings; how the very gentle, clerical-looking stranger, mildest of a + noisy, disputing crowd at the other table, was a notorious duelist and + dead shot; how the only gentleman at the table who retained a flannel + shirt and high boots was not a late-coming mountaineer, but a well-known + English baronet on his travels; how the man who told a somewhat florid and + emphatic anecdote was a popular Eastern clergyman; how the one querulous, + discontented face in a laughing group was the famous humorist who had just + convulsed it; and how a pale, handsome young fellow, who ate and drank + sparingly and disregarded the coquettish advances of the prettiest Diva + with the cold abstraction of a student, was a notorious roue and gambler. + But there was a sudden and unlooked-for change of criticism and critic. + </p> + <p> + The festivity had reached that stage when the guests were more or less + accessible to emotion, and more or less touched by the astounding fact + that every one was enjoying himself. This phenomenon, which is apt to + burst into song or dance among other races, is constrained to voice itself + in an Anglo-Saxon gathering by some explanation, apology, or moral—known + as an after-dinner speech. Thus it was that the gentleman from Siskyou, + who had been from time to time casting glances at Somers and his fair + companion at the head of the table, now rose to his feet, albeit + unsteadily, pushed back his chair, and began:— + </p> + <p> + “'Pears to me, ladies and gentlemen, and feller pardners, that on an + occasion like this, suthin' oughter be said of the man who got it up—whose + money paid for it, and who ain't here to speak for himself, except by + deputy. Yet you all know that's Bob Rushbrook's style—he ain't here, + because he's full of some other plan or improvements—and it's like + him to start suthin' of this kind, give it its aim and purpose, and then + stand aside to let somebody else run it for him. There ain't no man livin' + ez hez, so to speak, more fast horses ready saddled for riding, and more + fast men ready spurred to ride 'em,—whether to win his races or run + his errands. There ain't no man livin' ez knows better how to make other + men's games his, or his game seem to be other men's. And from Jack Somers + smilin' over there, ez knows where to get the best wine that Bob pays for, + and knows how to run this yer show for Bob, at Bob's expense—we're + all contented. Ladies and gentlemen, we're all contented. We stand, so to + speak, on the cards he's dealt us. What may be his little game, it ain't + for us to say; but whatever it is, WE'RE IN IT. Gentlemen and ladies, + we'll drink Bob's health!” + </p> + <p> + There was a somewhat sensational pause, followed by good-natured laughter + and applause, in which Somers joined; yet not without a certain constraint + that did not escape the quick sympathy of the shocked and unsmiling Miss + Nevil. It was with a feeling of relief that she caught the chaperoning eye + of Mrs. Leyton, who was entreating her in the usual mysterious signal to + the other ladies to rise and follow her. When she reached the + drawing-room, a little behind the others, she was somewhat surprised to + observe that the stranger whom she had missed during the evening was + approaching her with Mrs. Leyton. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Rushbrook returned sooner than he expected, but unfortunately, as he + always retires early, he has only time to say 'goodnight' to you before he + goes.” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Grace Nevil was more angry than disconcerted. Then came the + conviction that she was stupid not to have suspected the truth before. Who + else would that brusque stranger develop into but this rude host? She + bowed formally. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Rushbrook looked at her with the faintest smile on his handsome mouth. + “Well, Miss Nevil, I hope Jack Somers satisfied your curiosity?” + </p> + <p> + With a sudden recollection of the Siskyou gentleman's speech, and a swift + suspicion that in some way she had been made use of with the others by + this forceful-looking man before her, she answered pertly:— + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but there was a speech by a gentleman from Siskyou that struck me as + being nearer to the purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,—I heard it as I came in,” said Mr. Rushbrook, calmly. “I + don't know but you're right.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <p> + Six months had passed. The Villa of Maecenas was closed at Los Osos + Canyon, and the southwest trade-winds were slanting the rains of the wet + season against its shut windows and barred doors. Within that hollow, + deserted shell, its aspect—save for a single exception—was + unchanged; the furniture and decorations preserved their eternal youth + undimmed by time; the rigidly-arranged rooms, now closed to life and + light, developed more than ever their resemblance to a furniture + warehouse. The single exception was the room which Grace Nevil had + rearranged for herself; and that, oddly enough, was stripped and bare—even + to its paper and mouldings. + </p> + <p> + In other respects, the sealed treasures of Rushbrook's villa, far from + provoking any sentimentality, seemed only to give truth to the current + rumor that it was merely waiting to be transformed into a gorgeous + watering-place hotel under Rushbrook's direction; that, with its new + ball-room changed into an elaborate dining-hall, it would undergo still + further improvement, the inevitable end and object of all Rushbrook's + enterprise; and that its former proprietor had already begun another villa + whose magnificence should eclipse the last. There certainly appeared to be + no limit to the millionaire's success in all that he personally undertook, + or in his fortunate complicity with the enterprise and invention of + others. His name was associated with the oldest and safest schemes, as + well as the newest and boldest—with an equal guarantee of security. + A few, it was true, looked doubtingly upon this “one man power,” but could + not refute the fact that others had largely benefited by association with + him, and that he shared his profits with a royal hand. Some objected on + higher grounds to his brutalizing the influence of wealth by his material + and extravagantly practical processes, instead of the gentler suggestions + of education and personal example, and were impelled to point out the fact + that he and his patronage were vulgar. It was felt, however, by those who + received his benefits, that a proper sense of this inferiority was all + that ethics demanded of them. One could still accept Rushbrook's barbaric + gifts by humorously recognizing the fact that he didn't know any better, + and that it pleased him, as long as they resented any higher pretensions. + </p> + <p> + The rain-beaten windows of Rushbrook's town house, however, were + cheerfully lit that December evening. Mr. Rushbrook seldom dined alone; in + fact, it was popularly alleged that very often the unfinished business of + the day was concluded over his bountiful and perfect board. He was + dressing as James entered the room. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Leyton is in your study, sir; he will stay to dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “All right.” + </p> + <p> + “I think, sir,” added James, with respectful suggestiveness, “he wants to + talk. At least, sir, he asked me if you would likely come downstairs + before your company arrived.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Well, tell the others I'm dining on BUSINESS, and set dinner for two + in the blue room.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Mr. Leyton—a man of Rushbrook's age, but not so fresh and + vigorous-looking—had thrown himself in a chair beside the study + fire, after a glance around the handsome and familiar room. For the house + had belonged to a brother millionaire; it had changed hands with certain + shares of “Water Front,”—as some of Rushbrook's dealings had the + true barbaric absence of money detail,—and was elegantly and + tastefully furnished. The cuckoo had, however, already laid a few + characteristic eggs in this adopted nest, and a white marble statue of a + nude and ill-fed Virtue, sent over by Rushbrook's Paris agent, and + unpacked that morning, stood in one corner, and materially brought down + the temperature. A Japanese praying-throne of pure ivory, and, above it, a + few yards of improper, colored exposure by an old master, equalized each + other. + </p> + <p> + “And what is all this affair about the dinner?” suddenly asked a + tartly-pitched female voice with a foreign accent. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Leyton turned quickly, and was just conscious of a faint shriek, the + rustle of a skirt, and the swift vanishing of a woman's figure from the + doorway. Mr. Leyton turned red. Rushbrook lived en garcon, with feminine + possibilities; Leyton was a married man and a deacon. The incident which, + to a man of the world, would have brought only a smile, fired the + inexperienced Leyton with those exaggerated ideas and intense credulity + regarding vice common to some very good men. He walked on tip-toe to the + door, and peered into the passage. At that moment Rushbrook entered from + the opposite door of the room. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Rushbrook, with his usual practical directness, “what do you + think of her?” + </p> + <p> + Leyton, still flushed, and with eyebrows slightly knit, said, awkwardly, + that he had scarcely seen her. + </p> + <p> + “She cost me already ten thousand dollars, and I suppose I'll have to + eventually fix up a separate room for her somewhere,” continued Rushhrook. + </p> + <p> + “I should certainly advise it,” said Leyton, quickly, “for really, + Rushbrook, you know that something is due to the respectable people who + come here, and any of them are likely to see”— + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” interrupted Rushbrook, seriously, “you think she hasn't got on + clothes enough. Why, look here, old man—she's one of the Virtues, + and that's the rig in which they always travel. She's a 'Temperance' or a + 'Charity' or a 'Resignation,' or something of that kind. You'll find her + name there in French somewhere at the foot of the marble.” + </p> + <p> + Leyton saw his mistake, but felt—as others sometimes felt—a + doubt whether this smileless man was not inwardly laughing at him. He + replied, with a keen, rapid glance at his host:— + </p> + <p> + “I was referring to some woman who stood in that doorway just now, and + addressed me rather familiarly, thinking it was you.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, the Signora,” said Rushbrook, with undisturbed directness; “well, you + saw her at Los Osos last summer. Likely she DID think you were me.” + </p> + <p> + The cool ignoring of any ulterior thought in Leyton's objection forced the + guest to be equally practical in his reply. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but the fact is that Miss Nevil had talked of coming here with me + this evening to see you on her own affairs, and it wouldn't have been + exactly the thing for her to meet that woman.” + </p> + <p> + “She wouldn't,” said Rushbrook, promptly; “nor would YOU, if you had gone + into the parlor as Miss Nevil would have done. But look here! If that's + the reason why you didn't bring her, send for her at once; my coachman can + take a card from you; the brougham's all ready to fetch her, and there you + are. She'll see only you and me.” He was already moving towards the bell, + when Leyton stopped him. + </p> + <p> + “No matter now. I can tell you her business, I fancy; and in fact, I came + here to speak of it, quite independently of her.” + </p> + <p> + “That won't do, Leyton,” interrupted Rushbrook, with crisp decision. “One + or the other interview is unnecessary; it wastes time, and isn't business. + Better have her present, even if she don't say a word.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but not in this matter,” responded Leyton; “it's about Somers. You + know he's been very attentive to her ever since her uncle left her here to + recruit her health, and I think she fancies him. Well, although she's + independent and her own mistress, as you know, Mrs. Leyton and I are + somewhat responsible for her acquaintance with Somers,—and for that + matter so are you; and as my wife thinks it means a marriage, we ought to + know something more positive about Somers's prospects. Now, all we really + know is that he's a great friend of yours; that you trust a good deal to + him; that he manages your social affairs; that you treat him as a son or + nephew, and it's generally believed that he's as good as provided for by + you—eh? Did you speak?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Rushbrook, quietly regarding the statue as if taking its + measurement for a suitable apartment for it. “Go on.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Leyton, a little impatiently, “that's the belief everybody + has, and you've not contradicted it. And on that we've taken the + responsibility of not interfering with Somers's attentions.” + </p> + <p> + “Well?” said Rushbrook, interrogatively. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied Leyton, emphatically, “you see I must ask you positively + if you HAVE done anything, or are you going to do anything for him?” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” replied Rushbrook, with exasperating coolness, “what do you call + this marriage?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't understand you,” said Leyton. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Leyton,” said Rushbrook, suddenly and abruptly facing him; + “Jack Somers has brains, knowledge of society, tact, accomplishments, and + good looks: that's HIS capital as much as mine is money. I employ him: + that's his advertisement, recommendation, and credit. Now, on the strength + of this, as you say, Miss Nevil is willing to invest in him; I don't see + what more can be done.” + </p> + <p> + “But if her uncle don't think it enough?” + </p> + <p> + “She's independent, and has money for both.” + </p> + <p> + “But if she thinks she's been deceived, and changes her mind?” + </p> + <p> + “Leyton, you don't know Miss Nevil. Whatever that girl undertakes she's + weighed fully, and goes through with. If she's trusted him enough to marry + him, money won't stop her; if she thinks she's been deceived, YOU'LL never + know it.” + </p> + <p> + The enthusiasm and conviction were so unlike Rushbrook's usual cynical + toleration of the sex that Leyton stared at him. + </p> + <p> + “That's odd,” he returned. “That's what she says of you.” + </p> + <p> + “Of ME; you mean Somers?” + </p> + <p> + “No, of YOU. Come, Rushbrook, don't pretend you don't know that Miss Nevil + is a great partisan of yours, swears by you, says you're misunderstood by + people, and, what's infernally odd in a woman who don't belong to the + class you fancy, don't talk of your habits. That's why she wants to + consult you about Somers, I suppose, and that's why, knowing you might + influence her, I came here first to warn you.” + </p> + <p> + “And I've told you that whatever I might say or do wouldn't influence her. + So we'll drop the subject.” + </p> + <p> + “Not yet; for you're bound to see Miss Nevil sooner or later. Now, if she + knows that you've done nothing for this man, your friend and her lover, + won't she be justified in thinking that you would have a reason for it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I should give it.” + </p> + <p> + “What reason?” + </p> + <p> + “That I knew she'd be more contented to have him speculate with HER money + than mine.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you think that he isn't a business man?” + </p> + <p> + “I think that she thinks so, or she wouldn't marry him; it's part of the + attraction. But come, James has been for five minutes discreetly waiting + outside the door to tell us dinner is ready, and the coast clear of all + other company. But look here,” he said, suddenly stopping, with his arm in + Leyton's, “you're through your talk, I suppose; perhaps you'd rather we'd + dine with the Signora and the others than alone?” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Leyton thrilled with the fascination of what he firmly + believed was a guilty temptation. Rushbrook, perceiving his hesitation, + added:— + </p> + <p> + “By the way, Somers is of the party, and one or two others you know.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Leyton opened his eyes widely at this; either the temptation had + passed, or the idea of being seen in doubtful company by a younger man was + distasteful, for he hurriedly disclaimed any preference. “But,” he added + with half-significant politeness, “perhaps I'm keeping YOU from them?” + </p> + <p> + “It makes not the slightest difference to me,” calmly returned Rushbrook, + with such evident truthfulness that Leyton was both convinced and + chagrined. + </p> + <p> + Preceded by the grave and ubiquitous James, they crossed the large hall, + and entered through a smaller passage a charming apartment hung with blue + damask, which might have been a boudoir, study, or small reception-room, + yet had the air of never having been anything continuously. It would seem + that Rushbrook's habit of “camping out” in different parts of his mansion + obtained here as at Los Osos, and with the exception of a small closet + which contained his Spartan bed, the rooms were used separately or in + suites, as occasion or his friends required. It is recorded that an + Eastern guest, newly arrived with letters to Rushbrook, after a tedious + journey, expressed himself pleased with this same blue room, in which he + had sumptuously dined with his host, and subsequently fell asleep in his + chair. Without disturbing his guest, Rushbrook had the table removed, a + bed, washstand, and bureau brought in, the sleeping man delicately laid + upon the former, and left to awaken to an Arabian night's realization of + his wish. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <p> + James had barely disposed of his master and Mr. Leyton, and left them to + the ministrations of two of his underlings, before he was confronted with + one of those difficult problems that it was part of his functions to + solve. The porter informed him that a young lady had just driven up in a + carriage ostensibly to see Mr. Rushbrook, and James, descending to the + outer vestibule, found himself face to face with Miss Grace Nevil. + Happily, that young lady, with her usual tact, spared him some + embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! James,” she said sweetly, “do you think that I could see Mr. + Rushbrook for a few moments IF I WAITED FOR THE OPPORTUNITY? You + understand, I don't wish to disturb him or his company by being regularly + announced.” + </p> + <p> + The young girl's practical intelligence appeared to increase the usual + respect which James had always shown her. “I understand, miss.” He thought + for a moment, and said: “Would you mind, then, following me where you + could wait quietly and alone?” As she quickly assented, he preceded her up + the staircase, past the study and drawing-room, which he did not enter, + and stopped before a small door at the end of the passage. Then, handing + her a key which he took from his pocket, he said: “This is the only room + in the house that is strictly reserved for Mr. Rushbrook, and even he + rarely uses it. You can wait here without anybody knowing it until I can + communicate with him and bring you to his study unobserved. And,” he + hesitated, “if you wouldn't mind locking the door when you are in, miss, + you would be more secure, and I will knock when I come for you.” + </p> + <p> + Grace Nevil smiled at the man's prudence, and entered the room. But to her + great surprise, she had scarcely shut the door when she was instantly + struck with a singular memory which the apartment recalled. It was exactly + like the room she had altered in Rushbrook's villa at Los Osos! More than + that, on close examination it proved to be the very same furniture, + arranged as she remembered to have arranged it, even to the flowers and + grasses, now, alas! faded and withered on the walls. There could be no + mistake. There was the open ebony escritoire with the satin blotter open, + and its leaves still bearing the marks of her own handwriting. So complete + to her mind was the idea of her own tenancy in this bachelor's mansion, + that she looked around with a half indignant alarm for the photograph or + portrait of herself that might further indicate it. But there was no other + exposition. The only thing that had been added was a gilt legend on the + satin case of the blotter,—“Los Osos, August 20, 186-,” the day she + had occupied the room. + </p> + <p> + She was pleased, astonished, but more than all, disturbed. The only man + who might claim a right to this figurative possession of her tastes and + habits was the one whom she had quietly, reflectively, and understandingly + half accepted as her lover, and on whose account she had come to consult + Rushbrook. But Somers was not a sentimentalist; in fact, as a young girl, + forced by her independent position to somewhat critically scrutinize + masculine weaknesses, this had always been a point in his favor; yet even + if he had joined with his friend Rushbrook to perpetuate the memory of + their first acquaintanceship, his taste merely would not have selected a + chambre de garcon in Mr. Rushbrook's home for its exhibition. Her + conception of the opposite characters of the two men was singularly + distinct and real, and this momentary confusion of them was disagreeable + to her woman's sense. But at this moment James came to release her and + conduct her to Rushbrook's study, where he would join her at once. + Everything had been arranged as she had wished. + </p> + <p> + Even a more practical man than Rushbrook might have lingered over the + picture of the tall, graceful figure of Miss Nevil, quietly enthroned in a + large armchair by the fire, her scarlet, satin-lined cloak thrown over its + back, and her chin resting on her hand. But the millionaire walked + directly towards her with his usual frankness of conscious but restrained + power, and she felt, as she always did, perfectly at her ease in his + presence. Even as she took his outstretched hand, its straightforward + grasp seemed to endow her with its own confidence. + </p> + <p> + “You'll excuse my coming here so abruptly,” she smiled, “but I wanted to + get before Mr. Leyton, who, I believe, wishes to see you on the same + business as myself.” + </p> + <p> + “He is here already, and dining with me,” said Rushbrook. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! does he know I am here?” asked the girl, quietly. + </p> + <p> + “No; as he said you had thought of coming with him and didn't, I presumed + you didn't care to have him know you had come alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Not exactly that, Mr. Rushbrook,” she said, fixing her beautiful eyes on + him in bright and trustful confidence, “but I happen to have a fuller + knowledge of this business than he has, and yet, as it is not altogether + my own secret, I was not permitted to divulge it to him. Nor would I tell + it to you, only I cannot bear that you should think that I had anything to + do with this wretched inquisition into Mr. Somers's prospects. Knowing as + well as you do how perfectly independent I am, you would think it strange, + wouldn't you? But you would think it still more surprising when you found + out that I and my uncle already know how liberally and generously you had + provided for Mr. Somers in the future.” + </p> + <p> + “How I had provided for Mr. Somers in the future?” repeated Mr. Rushbrook, + looking at the fire, “eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said the young girl, indifferently, “how you were to put him in to + succeed you in the Water Front Trust, and all that. He told it to me and + my uncle at the outset of our acquaintance, confidentially, of course, and + I dare say with an honorable delicacy that was like him, but—I + suppose now you will think me foolish—all the while I'd rather he + had not.” + </p> + <p> + “You'd rather he had not,” repeated Mr. Rushbrook, slowly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Grace, leaning forward with her rounded elbows on her + knees, and her slim, arched feet on the fender. “Now you are going to + laugh at me, Mr. Rushbrook, but all this seemed to me to spoil any + spontaneous feeling I might have towards him, and limit my independence in + a thing that should be a matter of free will alone. It seemed too much + like a business proposition! There, my kind friend!” she added, looking up + and trying to read his face with a half girlish pout, followed, however, + by a maturer sigh, “I'm bothering you with a woman's foolishness instead + of talking business. And”—another sigh—“I suppose it IS + business for my uncle, who has, it seems, bought into this Trust on these + possible contingencies, has, perhaps, been asking questions of Mr. Leyton. + But I don't want you to think that I approve of them, or advise your + answering them. But you are not listening.” + </p> + <p> + “I had forgotten something,” said Rushbrook, with an odd preoccupation. + “Excuse me a moment—I will return at once.” + </p> + <p> + He left the room quite as abstractedly, and when he reached the passage, + he apparently could not remember what he had forgotten, as he walked + deliberately to the end window, where, with his arms folded behind his + back, he remained looking out into the street. A passer-by, glancing up, + might have said he had seen the pale, stern ghost of Mr. Rushbrook, framed + like a stony portrait in the window. But he presently turned away, and + re-entered the room, going up to Grace, who was still sitting by the fire, + in his usual strong and direct fashion. + </p> + <p> + “Well! Now let me see what you want. I think this would do.” + </p> + <p> + He took a seat at his open desk, and rapidly wrote a few lines. + </p> + <p> + “There,” he continued, “when you write to your uncle, inclose that.” + </p> + <p> + Grace took it, and read:— + </p> + <p> + DEAR MISS NEVIL,—Pray assure your uncle from me that I am quite + ready to guarantee, in any form that he may require, the undertaking + represented to him by Mr. John Somers. Yours very truly, + </p> + <p> + ROBERT RUSHBROOK. + </p> + <p> + A quick flush mounted to the young girl's cheeks. “But this is a SECURITY, + Mr. Rushbrook,” she said proudly, handing him back the paper, “and my + uncle does not require that. Nor shall I insult him or you by sending it.” + </p> + <p> + “It is BUSINESS, Miss Nevil,” said Rushbrook, gravely. He stopped, and + fixed his eyes upon her animated face and sparkling eyes. “You can send it + to him or not, as you like. But”—a rare smile came to his handsome + mouth—“as this is a letter to YOU, you must not insult ME by not + accepting it.” + </p> + <p> + Replying to his smile rather than the words that accompanied it, Miss + Nevil smiled, too. Nevertheless, she was uneasy and disturbed. The + interview, whatever she might have vaguely expected from it, had resolved + itself simply into a business indorsement of her lover, which she had not + sought, and which gave her no satisfaction. Yet there was the same potent + and indefinably protecting presence before her which she had sought, but + whose omniscience and whose help she seemed to have lost the spell and + courage to put to the test. He relieved her in his abrupt but not unkindly + fashion. “Well, when is it to be?” + </p> + <p> + “It?” + </p> + <p> + “Your marriage.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, not for some time. There's no hurry.” + </p> + <p> + It might have struck the practical Mr. Rushbrook that, even considered as + a desirable business affair, the prospective completion of this contract + provoked neither frank satisfaction nor conventional dissimulation on the + part of the young lady, for he regarded her calm but slightly wearied + expression fixedly. But he only said: “Then I shall say nothing of this + interview to Mr. Leyton?” + </p> + <p> + “As you please. It really matters little. Indeed, I suppose I was rather + foolish in coming at all, and wasting your valuable time for nothing.” + </p> + <p> + She had risen, as if taking his last question in the significance of a + parting suggestion, and was straightening her tall figure, preparatory to + putting on her cloak. As she reached it, he stepped forward, and lifted it + from the chair to assist her. The act was so unprecedented, as Mr. + Rushbrook never indulged in those minor masculine courtesies, that she was + momentarily as confused as a younger girl at the gallantry of a younger + man. In their previous friendship he had seldom drawn near her except to + shake her hand—a circumstance that had always recurred to her when + his free and familiar life had been the subject of gossip. But she now had + a more frightened consciousness that her nerves were strangely responding + to his powerful propinquity, and she involuntarily contracted her pretty + shoulders as he gently laid the cloak upon them. Yet even when the act was + completed, she had a superstitious instinct that the significance of this + rare courtesy was that it was final, and that he had helped her to + interpose something that shut him out from her forever. + </p> + <p> + She was turning away with a heightened color, when the sound of light, + hurried footsteps, and the rustle of a woman's dress was heard in the + hall. A swift recollection of her companion's infelicitous reputation now + returned to her, and Grace Nevil, with a slight stiffening of her whole + frame, became coldly herself again. Mr. Rushbrook betrayed neither + surprise nor agitation. Begging her to wait a moment until he could + arrange for her to pass to her carriage unnoticed, he left the room. + </p> + <p> + Yet it seemed that the cause of the disturbance was unsuspected by Mr. Rushbrook. + Mr. Leyton, although left to the consolation of cigars and liquors in the + blue room, had become slightly weary of his companion's prolonged absence. + Satisfied in his mind that Rushbrook had joined the gayer party, and that + he was even now paying gallant court to the Signora, he became again + curious and uneasy. At last the unmistakable sound of whispering voices in + the passage got the better of his sense of courtesy as a guest, and he + rose from his seat, and slightly opened the door. As he did so the figures + of a man and woman, conversing in earnest whispers, passed the opening. + The man's arm was round the woman's waist; the woman was—as he had + suspected—the one who had stood in the doorway, the Signora—but—the + man was NOT Rushbrook. Mr. Leyton drew back this time in unaffected + horror. It was none other than Jack Somers! + </p> + <p> + Some warning instinct must at that moment have struck the woman, for with + a stifled cry she disengaged herself from Somers's arm, and dashed rapidly + down the hall. Somers, evidently unaware of the cause, stood irresolute + for a moment, and then more silently but swiftly disappeared into a side + corridor as if to intercept her. It was the rapid passage of the Signora + that had attracted the attention of Grace and Rushbrook in the study, and + it was the moment after it that Mr. Rushbrook left. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <p> + Vaguely uneasy, and still perplexed with her previous agitation, as Mr. + Rushbrook closed the door behind him, Grace, following some feminine + instinct rather than any definite reason, walked to the door and placed + her hand upon the lock to prevent any intrusion until he returned. Her + caution seemed to be justified a moment later, for a heavier but + stealthier footstep halted outside. The handle of the door was turned, but + she resisted it with the fullest strength of her small hand until a voice, + which startled her, called in a hurried whisper:— + </p> + <p> + “Open quick, 'tis I.” + </p> + <p> + She stepped back quickly, flung the door open, and beheld Somers on the + threshold! + </p> + <p> + The astonishment, agitation, and above all, the awkward confusion of this + usually self-possessed and ready man, was so unlike him, and withal so + painful, that Grace hurried to put an end to it, and for an instant forgot + her own surprise at seeing him. She smiled assuringly, and extended her + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Grace—Miss Nevil—I beg your pardon—I didn't imagine”—he + began with a forced laugh. “I mean, of course—I cannot—but”—He + stopped, and then assuming a peculiar expression, said: “But what are YOU + doing here?” + </p> + <p> + At any other moment the girl would have resented the tone, which was as + new to her as his previous agitation, but in her present + self-consciousness her situation seemed to require some explanation. “I + came here,” she said, “to see Mr. Rushbrook on business. Your business—OUR + business,” she added, with a charming smile, using for the first time the + pronoun that seemed to indicate their unity and interest, and yet fully + aware of a vague insincerity in doing so. + </p> + <p> + “Our BUSINESS?” he repeated, ignoring her gentler meaning with a changed + emphasis and a look of suspicion. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Grace, a little impatiently. “Mr. Leyton thought he ought to + write to my uncle something positive as to your prospects with Mr. + Rushbrook, and”— + </p> + <p> + “You came here to inquire?” said the young man, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “I came here to stop any inquiry,” said Grace, indignantly. “I came here + to say I was satisfied with what you had confided to me of Mr. Rushbrook's + generosity, and that was enough!” + </p> + <p> + “With what I had confided to you? You dared say that?” + </p> + <p> + Grace stopped, and instantly faced him. But any indignation she might have + felt at his speech and manner was swallowed up in the revulsion and horror + that overtook her with the sudden revelation she saw in his white and + frightened face. Leyton's strange inquiry, Rushbrook's cold composure and + scornful acceptance of her own credulousness, came to her in a flash of + shameful intelligence. Somers had lied! The insufferable meanness of it! A + lie, whose very uselessness and ignobility had defeated its purpose—a + lie that implied the basest suspicion of her own independence and + truthfulness—such a lie now stood out as plainly before her as his + guilty face. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive my speaking so rudely,” he said with a forced smile and attempt + to recover his self-control, “but you have ruined me unless you deny that + I told you anything. It was a joke—an extravagance that I had + forgotten; at least, it was a confidence between you and me that you have + foolishly violated. Say that you misunderstood me—that it was a + fancy of your own. Say anything—he trusts you—he'll believe + anything you say.” + </p> + <p> + “He HAS believed me,” said Grace, almost fiercely, turning upon him with + the paper that Rushbrook had given her in her outstretched hand. “Read + that!” + </p> + <p> + He read it. Had he blushed, had he stammered, had he even kept up his + former frantic and pitiable attitude, she might at that supreme moment + have forgiven him. But to her astonishment his face changed, his handsome + brow cleared, his careless, happy smile returned, his graceful confidence + came back—he stood before her the elegant, courtly, and accomplished + gentleman she had known. He returned her the paper, and advancing with + extended hand, said triumphantly:— + </p> + <p> + “Superb! Splendid! No one but a woman could think of that! And only one + woman achieve it. You have tricked the great Rushbrook. You are indeed + worthy of being a financier's wife!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” she said passionately, tearing up the paper and throwing it at his + feet; “not as YOU understand it—and never YOURS! You have debased + and polluted everything connected with it, as you would have debased and + polluted ME. Out of my presence that you are insulting—out of the + room of the man whose magnanimity you cannot understand!” + </p> + <p> + The destruction of the guarantee apparently stung him more than the words + that accompanied it. He did not relapse again into his former shamefaced + terror, but as a malignant glitter came into his eyes, he regained his + coolness. + </p> + <p> + “It may not be so difficult for others to understand, Miss Nevil,” he + said, with polished insolence, “and as Bob Rushbrook's generosity to + pretty women is already a matter of suspicion, perhaps you are wise to + destroy that record of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Coward!” said Grace, “stand aside and let me pass!” She swept by him to + the door. But it opened upon Rushbrook's re-entrance. He stood for an + instant glancing at the pair, and then on the fragments of the paper that + strewed the floor. Then, still holding the door in his hand, he said + quietly:— + </p> + <p> + “One moment before you go, Miss Nevil. If this is the result of any + misunderstanding as to the presence of another woman here, in company with + Mr. Somers, it is only fair to him to say that that woman is here as a + friend of MINE, not of his, and I alone am responsible.” + </p> + <p> + Grace halted, and turned the cold steel of her proud eyes on the two men. + As they rested on Rushbrook they quivered slightly. “I can already bear + witness,” she said coldly, “to the generosity of Mr. Rushbrook in a matter + which then touched me. But there certainly is no necessity for him to show + it now in a matter in which I have not the slightest concern.” + </p> + <p> + As she swept out of the room and was received in the respectable shadow of + the waiting James, Rushbrook turned to Somers. + </p> + <p> + “And I'M afraid it won't do—for Leyton saw you,” he said curtly. + “Now, then, shut that door, for you and I, Jack Somers, have a word to say + to each other.” + </p> + <p> + What that word was, and how it was said and received, is not a part of + this record. But it is told that it was the beginning of that mighty + Iliad, still remembered of men, which shook the financial camps of San + Francisco, and divided them into bitter contending parties. For when it + became known the next day that Somers had suddenly abandoned Rushbrook, + and carried over to a powerful foreign capitalist the secret methods, and + even, it was believed, the LUCK of his late employer, it was certain that + there would be war to the knife, and that it was no longer a struggle of + rival enterprise, but of vindictive men. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <p> + For a year the battle between the Somers faction and the giant but + solitary Rushbrook raged fiercely, with varying success. I grieve to say + that the proteges and parasites of Maecenas deserted him in a body; nay, + they openly alleged that it was the true artistic nature and refinement of + Somers that had always attracted them, and that a man like Rushbrook, who + bought pictures by the yard,—equally of the unknown struggling + artist and the famous masters,—was no true patron of Art. Rushbrook + made no attempt to recover his lost prestige, and once, when squeezed into + a tight “corner,” and forced to realize on his treasures, he put them up + at auction and the people called them “daubs;” their rage knew no bounds. + It was then that an unfettered press discovered that Rushbrook never was a + Maecenas at all, grimly deprecated his assumption of that title, and even + doubted if he were truly a millionaire. It was at this time that a few + stood by him—notably, the mill inventor from Siskyou, grown + plethoric with success, but eventually ground between the upper and nether + millstone of the Somers and Rushbrook party. Miss Nevil had returned to + the Atlantic States with Mrs. Leyton. While rumors had played freely with + the relations of Somers and the Signora as the possible cause of the + rupture between him and Rushbrook, no mention had ever been made of the + name of Miss Nevil. + </p> + <p> + It was raining heavily one afternoon, when Mr. Rushbrook drove from his + office to his San Francisco house. The fierce struggle in which he was + engaged left him little time for hospitality, and for the last two weeks + his house had been comparatively deserted. He passed through the empty + rooms, changed in little except the absence of some valuable monstrosities + which had gone to replenish his capital. When he reached his bedroom, he + paused a moment at the open door. + </p> + <p> + “James!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” said James, appearing out of the shadow. + </p> + <p> + “What are you waiting for?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you might be wanting something, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You were waiting there this morning; you were in the ante-room of my + study while I was writing. You were outside the blue room while I sat at + breakfast. You were at my elbow in the drawing-room late last night. Now, + James,” continued Mr. Rushbrook, with his usual grave directness, “I don't + intend to commit suicide; I can't afford it, so keep your time and your + rest for yourself—you want it—that's a good fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “James!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Rushbrook extended his hand. There was that faint, rare smile on his + handsome mouth, for which James would at any time have laid down his life. + But he only silently grasped his master's hand, and the two men remained + looking into each other's eyes without a word. Then Mr. Rushbrook entered + his room, lay down, and went to sleep, and James vanished in the shadow. + </p> + <p> + At the end of an hour Mr. Rushbrook awoke refreshed, and even James, who + came to call him, appeared to have brightened in the interval. “I have + ordered a fire, sir, in the reserved room, the one fitted up from Los + Osos, as your study has had no chance of being cleaned these two weeks. It + will be a change for you, sir. I hope you'll excuse my not waking you to + consult you about it.” + </p> + <p> + Rushbrook remained so silent that James, fancying he had not heard him, + was about to repeat himself when his master said quickly, “Very well, come + for me there when dinner is ready,” and entered the passage leading to the + room. James did not follow him, and when Mr. Rushbrook, opening the door, + started back with an exclamation, no one but the inmate heard the word + that rose to his lips. + </p> + <p> + For there, seated before the glow of the blazing fire, was Miss Grace + Nevil. She had evidently just arrived, for her mantle was barely loosened + around her neck, and upon the fringe of brown hair between her bonnet and + her broad, low forehead a few drops of rain still sparkled. As she lifted + her long lashes quickly towards the door, it seemed as if they, too, had + caught a little of that moisture. Rushbrook moved impatiently forward, and + then stopped. Grace rose unhesitatingly to her feet, and met him half-way + with frankly outstretched hands. “First of all,” she said, with a half + nervous laugh, “don't scold James; it's all my fault; I forbade him to + announce me, lest you should drive me away, for I heard that during this + excitement you came here for rest, and saw no one. Even the intrusion into + this room is all my own. I confess now that I saw it the last night I was + here; I was anxious to know if it was unchanged, and made James bring me + here. I did not understand it then. I do now—and—thank you.” + </p> + <p> + Her face must have shown that she was conscious that he was still holding + her hand, for he suddenly released it. With a heightened color and a half + girlish naivete, that was the more charming for its contrast with her tall + figure and air of thoroughbred repose, she turned back to her chair, and + lightly motioned him to take the one before her. “I am here on BUSINESS; + otherwise I should not have dared to look in upon you at all.” + </p> + <p> + She stopped, drew off her gloves with a provoking deliberation, which was + none the less fascinating that it implied a demure consciousness of + inducing some impatience in the breast of her companion, stretched them + out carefully by the fingers, laid them down neatly on the table, placed + her elbows on her knees, slightly clasped her hands together, and bending + forward, lifted her honest, handsome eyes to the man before her. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Rushbrook, I have got between four and five hundred thousand dollars + that I have no use for; I can control securities which can be converted, + if necessary, into a hundred thousand more in ten days. I am free and my + own mistress. It is generally considered that I know what I am about—you + admitted as much when I was your pupil. I have come here to place this sum + in your hands, at your free disposal. You know why and for what purpose.” + </p> + <p> + “But what do you know of my affairs?” asked Rushbrook, quickly. + </p> + <p> + “Everything, and I know YOU, which is better. Call it an investment if you + like—for I know you will succeed—and let me share your + profits. Call it—if you please—restitution, for I am the + miserable cause of your rupture with that man. Or call it revenge if you + like,” she said with a faint smile, “and let me fight at your side against + our common enemy! Please, Mr. Rushbrook, don't deny me this. I have come + three thousand miles for it; I could have sent it to you—or written—but + I feared you would not understand it. You are smiling—you will take + it?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot,” said Rushbrook, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Then you force me to go into the Stock Market myself, and fight for you, + and, unaided by YOUR genius, perhaps lose it without benefiting you.” + </p> + <p> + Rushbrook did not reply. + </p> + <p> + “At least, then, tell me why you 'cannot.'” + </p> + <p> + Rushbrook rose, and looking into her face, said quietly with his old + directness:— + </p> + <p> + “Because I love you, Miss Nevil.” + </p> + <p> + A sudden instinct to rise and move away, a greater one to remain and hear + him speak again, and a still greater one to keep back the blood that she + felt was returning all too quickly to her cheek after the first shock, + kept her silent. But she dropped her eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I loved you ever since I first saw you at Los Osos,” he went on quickly; + “I said to myself even then, that if there was a woman that would fill my + life, and make me what she wished me to be, it was you. I even fancied + that day that you understood me better than any woman, or even any man, + that I had ever met before. I loved you through all that miserable + business with that man, even when my failure to make you happy with + another brought me no nearer to you. I have loved you always. I shall love + you always. I love you more for this foolish kindness that brings YOU + beneath my roof once more, and gives me a chance to speak my heart to you, + if only once and for the last time, than all the fortune that you could + put at my disposal. But I could not accept what you would offer me from + any woman who was not my wife—and I could not marry any woman that + did not love me. I am perhaps past the age when I could inspire a young + girl's affection; but I have not reached the age when I would accept + anything less.” He stopped abruptly. Grace did not look up. There was a + tear glistening upon her long eyelashes, albeit a faint smile played upon + her lips. + </p> + <p> + “Do you call this business, Mr. Rushbrook?” she said softly. + </p> + <p> + “Business?” + </p> + <p> + “To assume a proposal declined before it has been offered.” + </p> + <p> + “Grace—my darling—tell me—is it possible?” + </p> + <p> + It was too late for her to rise now, as his hands held both hers, and his + handsome mouth was smiling level with her own. So it really seemed to a + dispassionate spectator that it WAS possible, and before she had left the + room, it even appeared to be the most probable thing in the world. + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + The union of Grace Nevil and Robert Rushbrook was recorded by local + history as the crown to his victory over the Ring. But only he and his + wife knew that it was the cause. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS *** + +***** This file should be named 2867-h.htm or 2867-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/6/2867/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the Foundation” + or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase “Project Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +“Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, “Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.” + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +“Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + </body> +</html> diff --git a/2867.txt b/2867.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4e65bc --- /dev/null +++ b/2867.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6372 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: A Sappho of Green Springs + +Author: Bret Harte + +Release Date: May 30, 2006 [EBook #2867] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson + + + + + +A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + + +By Bret Harte + + + + +CONTENTS + + +A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + +THE CHATELAINE OF BURNT RIDGE + +THROUGH THE SANTA CLARA WHEAT + +A MAECENAS OF THE PACIFIC SLOPE + + + + + +A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + + +CHAPTER I + + +"Come in," said the editor. + +The door of the editorial room of the "Excelsior Magazine" began to +creak painfully under the hesitating pressure of an uncertain and +unfamiliar hand. This continued until with a start of irritation the +editor faced directly about, throwing his leg over the arm of his chair +with a certain youthful dexterity. With one hand gripping its back, +the other still grasping a proof-slip, and his pencil in his mouth, he +stared at the intruder. + +The stranger, despite his hesitating entrance, did not seem in the least +disconcerted. He was a tall man, looking even taller by reason of the +long formless overcoat he wore, known as a "duster," and by a long +straight beard that depended from his chin, which he combed with two +reflective fingers as he contemplated the editor. The red dust which +still lay in the creases of his garment and in the curves of his soft +felt hat, and left a dusty circle like a precipitated halo around his +feet, proclaimed him, if not a countryman, a recent inland importation +by coach. "Busy?" he said, in a grave but pleasant voice. "I kin wait. +Don't mind ME. Go on." + +The editor indicated a chair with his disengaged hand and plunged again +into his proof-slips. The stranger surveyed the scant furniture and +appointments of the office with a look of grave curiosity, and then, +taking a chair, fixed an earnest, penetrating gaze on the editor's +profile. The editor felt it, and, without looking up, said-- + +"Well, go on." + +"But you're busy. I kin wait." + +"I shall not be less busy this morning. I can listen." + +"I want you to give me the name of a certain person who writes in your +magazine." + +The editor's eye glanced at the second right-hand drawer of his desk. +It did not contain the names of his contributors, but what in the +traditions of his office was accepted as an equivalent,--a revolver. +He had never yet presented either to an inquirer. But he laid aside his +proofs, and, with a slight darkening of his youthful, discontented face, +said, "What do you want to know for?" + +The question was so evidently unexpected that the stranger's face +colored slightly, and he hesitated. The editor meanwhile, without +taking his eyes from the man, mentally ran over the contents of the last +magazine. They had been of a singularly peaceful character. There seemed +to be nothing to justify homicide on his part or the stranger's. Yet +there was no knowing, and his questioner's bucolic appearance by no +means precluded an assault. Indeed, it had been a legend of the office +that a predecessor had suffered vicariously from a geological hammer +covertly introduced into a scientific controversy by an irate professor. + +"As we make ourselves responsible for the conduct of the magazine," +continued the young editor, with mature severity, "we do not give up the +names of our contributors. If you do not agree with their opinions"-- + +"But I DO," said the stranger, with his former composure, "and I reckon +that's why I want to know who wrote those verses called 'Underbrush,' +signed 'White Violet,' in your last number. They're pow'ful pretty." + +The editor flushed slightly, and glanced instinctively around for any +unexpected witness of his ludicrous mistake. The fear of ridicule was +uppermost in his mind, and he was more relieved at his mistake not being +overheard than at its groundlessness. + +"The verses ARE pretty," he said, recovering himself, with a critical +air, "and I am glad you like them. But even then, you know, I could not +give you the lady's name without her permission. I will write to her and +ask it, if you like." + +The actual fact was that the verses had been sent to him anonymously +from a remote village in the Coast Range,--the address being the +post-office and the signature initials. + +The stranger looked disturbed. "Then she ain't about here anywhere?" he +said, with a vague gesture. "She don't belong to the office?" + +The young editor beamed with tolerant superiority: "No, I am sorry to +say." + +"I should like to have got to see her and kinder asked her a +few questions," continued the stranger, with the same reflective +seriousness. "You see, it wasn't just the rhymin' o' them verses,--and +they kinder sing themselves to ye, don't they?--it wasn't the chyce o' +words,--and I reckon they allus hit the idee in the centre shot every +time,--it wasn't the idees and moral she sort o' drew out o' what she +was tellin',--but it was the straight thing itself,--the truth!" + +"The truth?" repeated the editor. + +"Yes, sir. I've bin there. I've seen all that she's seen in the +brush--the little flicks and checkers o' light and shadder down in +the brown dust that you wonder how it ever got through the dark of the +woods, and that allus seems to slip away like a snake or a lizard if you +grope. I've heard all that she's heard there--the creepin', the sighin', +and the whisperin' through the bracken and the ground-vines of all that +lives there." + +"You seem to be a poet yourself," said the editor, with a patronizing +smile. + +"I'm a lumberman, up in Mendocino," returned the stranger, with sublime +naivete. "Got a mill there. You see, sightin' standin' timber and +selectin' from the gen'ral show of the trees in the ground and the lay +of roots hez sorter made me take notice." He paused. "Then," he added, +somewhat despondingly, "you don't know who she is?" + +"No," said the editor, reflectively; "not even if it is really a WOMAN +who writes." + +"Eh?" + +"Well, you see, 'White Violet' may as well be the nom de plume of a man +as of a woman, especially if adopted for the purpose of mystification. +The handwriting, I remember, WAS more boyish than feminine." + +"No," returned the stranger doggedly, "it wasn't no MAN. There's ideas +and words there that only come from a woman: baby-talk to the birds, you +know, and a kind of fearsome keer of bugs and creepin' things that don't +come to a man who wears boots and trousers. Well," he added, with a +return to his previous air of resigned disappointment, "I suppose you +don't even know what she's like?" + +"No," responded the editor, cheerfully. Then, following an idea +suggested by the odd mingling of sentiment and shrewd perception in +the man before him, he added: "Probably not at all like anything you +imagine. She may be a mother with three or four children; or an old maid +who keeps a boarding-house; or a wrinkled school-mistress; or a chit +of a school-girl. I've had some fair verses from a red-haired girl of +fourteen at the Seminary," he concluded with professional coolness. + +The stranger regarded him with the naive wonder of an inexperienced +man. Having paid this tribute to his superior knowledge, he regained his +previous air of grave perception. "I reckon she ain't none of them. But +I'm keepin' you from your work. Good-by. My name's Bowers--Jim Bowers, +of Mendocino. If you're up my way, give me a call. And if you do write +to this yer 'White Violet,' and she's willin', send me her address." + +He shook the editor's hand warmly--even in its literal significance +of imparting a good deal of his own earnest caloric to the editor's +fingers--and left the room. His footfall echoed along the passage and +died out, and with it, I fear, all impression of his visit from the +editor's mind, as he plunged again into the silent task before him. + +Presently he was conscious of a melodious humming and a light leisurely +step at the entrance of the hall. They continued on in an easy harmony +and unaffected as the passage of a bird. Both were pleasant and both +familiar to the editor. They belonged to Jack Hamlin, by vocation a +gambler, by taste a musician, on his way from his apartments on +the upper floor, where he had just risen, to drop into his friend's +editorial room and glance over the exchanges, as was his habit before +breakfast. + +The door opened lightly. The editor was conscious of a faint odor of +scented soap, a sensation of freshness and cleanliness, the impression +of a soft hand like a woman's on his shoulder and, like a woman's, +momentarily and playfully caressing, the passage of a graceful shadow +across his desk, and the next moment Jack Hamlin was ostentatiously +dusting a chair with an open newspaper preparatory to sitting down. + +"You ought to ship that office-boy of yours, if he can't keep things +cleaner," he said, suspending his melody to eye grimly the dust which +Mr. Bowers had shaken from his departing feet. + +The editor did not look up until he had finished revising a difficult +paragraph. By that time Mr. Hamlin had comfortably settled himself on +a cane sofa, and, possibly out of deference to his surroundings, had +subdued his song to a peculiarly low, soft, and heartbreaking whistle as +he unfolded a newspaper. Clean and faultless in his appearance, he had +the rare gift of being able to get up at two in the afternoon with +much of the dewy freshness and all of the moral superiority of an early +riser. + +"You ought to have been here just now, Jack," said the editor. + +"Not a row, old man, eh?" inquired Jack, with a faint accession of +interest. + +"No," said the editor, smiling. Then he related the incidents of the +previous interview, with a certain humorous exaggeration which was part +of his nature. But Jack did not smile. + +"You ought to have booted him out of the ranch on sight," he said. "What +right had he to come here prying into a lady's affairs?--at least a lady +as far as HE knows. Of course she's some old blowzy with frumpled hair +trying to rope in a greenhorn with a string of words and phrases," +concluded Jack, carelessly, who had an equally cynical distrust of the +sex and of literature. + +"That's about what I told him," said the editor. + +"That's just what you SHOULDN'T have told him," returned Jack. "You +ought to have stuck up for that woman as if she'd been your own mother. +Lord! you fellows don't know how to run a magazine. You ought to let ME +sit on that chair and tackle your customers." + +"What would you have done, Jack?" asked the editor, much amused to +find that his hitherto invincible hero was not above the ordinary human +weakness of offering advice as to editorial conduct. + +"Done?" reflected Jack. "Well, first, sonny, I shouldn't keep a revolver +in a drawer that I had to OPEN to get at." + +"But what would you have said?" + +"I should simply have asked him what was the price of lumber at +Mendocino," said Jack, sweetly, "and when he told me, I should have said +that the samples he was offering out of his own head wouldn't suit. You +see, you don't want any trifling in such matters. You write well enough, +my boy," continued he, turning over his paper, "but what you're lacking +in is editorial dignity. But go on with your work. Don't mind me." + +Thus admonished, the editor again bent over his desk, and his friend +softly took up his suspended song. The editor had not proceeded far in +his corrections when Jack's voice again broke the silence. + +"Where are those d----d verses, anyway?" + +Without looking up, the editor waved his pencil towards an uncut copy of +the "Excelsior Magazine" lying on the table. + +"You don't suppose I'm going to READ them, do you?" said Jack, +aggrievedly. "Why don't you say what they're about? That's your business +as editor." + +But that functionary, now wholly lost and wandering in the non-sequitur +of an involved passage in the proof before him, only waved an impatient +remonstrance with his pencil and knit his brows. Jack, with a sigh, took +up the magazine. + +A long silence followed, broken only by the hurried rustling of sheets +of copy and an occasional exasperated start from the editor. The sun +was already beginning to slant a dusty beam across his desk; Jack's +whistling had long since ceased. Presently, with an exclamation of +relief, the editor laid aside the last proof-sheet and looked up. + +Jack Hamlin had closed the magazine, but with one hand thrown over the +back of the sofa he was still holding it, his slim forefinger between +its leaves to keep the place, and his handsome profile and dark +lashes lifted towards the window. The editor, smiling at this unwonted +abstraction, said quietly,-- + +"Well, what do you think of them?" + +Jack rose, laid the magazine down, settled his white waistcoat with both +hands, and lounged towards his friend with audacious but slightly +veiled and shining eyes. "They sort of sing themselves to you," he said, +quietly, leaning beside the editor's desk, and looking down upon him. +After a pause he said, "Then you don't know what she's like?" + +"That's what Mr. Bowers asked me," remarked the editor. + +"D--n Bowers!" + +"I suppose you also wish me to write and ask for permission to give you +her address?" said the editor, with great gravity. + +"No," said Jack, coolly. "I propose to give it to YOU within a week, and +you will pay me with a breakfast. I should like to have it said that I +was once a paid contributor to literature. If I don't give it to you, +I'll stand you a dinner, that's all." + +"Done!" said the editor. "And you know nothing of her now?" + +"No," said Jack, promptly. "Nor you?" + +"No more than I have told you." + +"That'll do. So long!" And Jack, carefully adjusting his glossy hat over +his curls at an ominously wicked angle, sauntered lightly from the room. +The editor, glancing after his handsome figure and hearing him take +up his pretermitted whistle as he passed out, began to think that the +contingent dinner was by no means an inevitable prospect. + +Howbeit, he plunged once more into his monotonous duties. But the +freshness of the day seemed to have departed with Jack, and the +later interruptions of foreman and publisher were of a more practical +character. It was not until the post arrived that the superscription on +one of the letters caught his eye, and revived his former interest. +It was the same hand as that of his unknown contributor's +manuscript--ill-formed and boyish. He opened the envelope. It contained +another poem with the same signature, but also a note--much longer than +the brief lines that accompanied the first contribution--was scrawled +upon a separate piece of paper. This the editor opened first, and read +the following, with an amazement that for the moment dominated all other +sense:-- + + +MR. EDITOR,--I see you have got my poetry in. But I don't see the +spondulix that oughter follow. Perhaps you don't know where to send it. +Then I'll tell you. Send the money to Lock Box 47, Green Springs P. +O., per Wells Fargo's Express, and I'll get it there, on account of my +parents not knowing. We're very high-toned, and they would think it's +low making poetry for papers. Send amount usually paid for poetry in +your papers. Or may be you think I make poetry for nothing? That's where +you slip up! + +Yours truly, + +WHITE VIOLET. + +P. S.--If you don't pay for poetry, send this back. It's as good as what +you did put in, and is just as hard to make. You hear me? that's me--all +the time. + +WHITE VIOLET. + + +The editor turned quickly to the new contribution for some corroboration +of what he felt must be an extraordinary blunder. But no! The few lines +that he hurriedly read breathed the same atmosphere of intellectual +repose, gentleness, and imagination as the first contribution. And yet +they were in the same handwriting as the singular missive, and both were +identical with the previous manuscript. + +Had he been the victim of a hoax, and were the verses not original? No; +they were distinctly original, local in color, and even local in the use +of certain old English words that were common in the Southwest. He had +before noticed the apparent incongruity of the handwriting and the text, +and it was possible that for the purposes of disguise the poet might +have employed an amanuensis. But how could he reconcile the incongruity +of the mercenary and slangy purport of the missive itself with the +mental habit of its author? Was it possible that these inconsistent +qualities existed in the one individual? He smiled grimly as he thought +of his visitor Bowers and his friend Jack. He was startled as he +remembered the purely imaginative picture he had himself given to the +seriously interested Bowers of the possible incongruous personality of +the poetess. + +Was he quite fair in keeping this from Jack? Was it really honorable, in +view of their wager? It is to be feared that a very human enjoyment of +Jack's possible discomfiture quite as much as any chivalrous friendship +impelled the editor to ring eventually for the office-boy. + +"See if Mr. Hamlin is in his rooms." + +The editor then sat down, and wrote rapidly as follows:-- + + +DEAR MADAM,--You are as right as you are generous in supposing that +only ignorance of your address prevented the manager from previously +remitting the honorarium for your beautiful verses. He now begs to send +it to you in the manner you have indicated. As the verses have attracted +deserved attention, I have been applied to for your address. Should +you care to submit it to me to be used at my discretion, I shall feel +honored by your confidence. But this is a matter left entirely to your +own kindness and better judgment. Meantime, I take pleasure in accepting +"White Violet's" present contribution, and remain, dear madam, your +obedient servant, + +THE EDITOR. + + +The boy returned as he was folding the letter. Mr. Hamlin was not only +NOT in his rooms, but, according to his negro servant Pete, had left +town an hour ago for a few days in the country. + +"Did he say where?" asked the editor, quickly. + +"No, sir: he didn't know." + +"Very well. Take this to the manager." He addressed the letter, and, +scrawling a few hieroglyphics on a memorandum-tag, tore it off, and +handed it with the letter to the boy. + +An hour later he stood in the manager's office. "The next number is +pretty well made up," he said, carelessly, "and I think of taking a day +or two off." + +"Certainly," said the manager. "It will do you good. Where do you think +you'll go?" + +"I haven't quite made up my mind." + + +CHAPTER II + + +"Hullo!" said Jack Hamlin. + +He had halted his mare at the edge of an abrupt chasm. It did not appear +to be fifty feet across, yet its depth must have been nearly two +hundred to where the hidden mountain-stream, of which it was the banks, +alternately slipped, tumbled, and fell with murmuring and monotonous +regularity. One or two pine-trees growing on the opposite edge, loosened +at the roots, had tilted their straight shafts like spears over the +abyss, and the top of one, resting on the upper branches of a sycamore a +few yards from him, served as an aerial bridge for the passage of a boy +of fourteen to whom Mr. Hamlin's challenge was addressed. + +The boy stopped midway in his perilous transit, and, looking down upon +the horseman, responded, coolly, "Hullo, yourself!" + +"Is that the only way across this infernal hole, or the one you prefer +for exercise?" continued Hamlin, gravely. + +The boy sat down on a bough, allowing his bare feet to dangle over the +dizzy depths, and critically examined his questioner. Jack had on this +occasion modified his usual correct conventional attire by a tasteful +combination of a vaquero's costume, and, in loose white bullion-fringed +trousers, red sash, jacket, and sombrero, looked infinitely more dashing +and picturesque than his original. Nevertheless, the boy did not reply. +Mr. Hamlin's pride in his usual ascendency over women, children, horses, +and all unreasoning animals was deeply nettled. He smiled, however, and +said, quietly,-- + +"Come here, George Washington. I want to talk to you." + +Without rejecting this august yet impossible title, the boy presently +lifted his feet, and carelessly resumed his passage across the +chasm until, reaching the sycamore, he began to let himself down +squirrel-wise, leap by leap, with an occasional trapeze swinging from +bough to bough, dropping at last easily to the ground. Here he appeared +to be rather good-looking, albeit the sun and air had worked a miracle +of brown tan and freckles on his exposed surfaces, until the mottling of +his oval cheeks looked like a polished bird's egg. Indeed, it struck Mr. +Hamlin that he was as intensely a part of that sylvan seclusion as +the hidden brook that murmured, the brown velvet shadows that lay like +trappings on the white flanks of his horse, the quivering heat, and the +stinging spice of bay. Mr. Hamlin had vague ideas of dryads and fauns, +but at that moment would have bet something on the chances of their +survival. + +"I did not hear what you said just now, general," he remarked, with +great elegance of manner, "but I know from your reputation that it could +not be a lie. I therefore gather that there IS another way across." + +The boy smiled; rather, his very short upper lip apparently vanished +completely over his white teeth, and his very black eyes, which showed a +great deal of the white around them, danced in their orbits. + +"But YOU couldn't find it," he said, slyly. + +"No more could you find the half-dollar I dropped just now, unless I +helped you." + +Mr. Hamlin, by way of illustration, leaned deeply over his left stirrup, +and pointed to the ground. At the same moment a bright half-dollar +absolutely appeared to glitter in the herbage at the point of his +finger. It was a trick that had always brought great pleasure and profit +to his young friends, and some loss and discomfiture of wager to his +older ones. + +The boy picked up the coin: "There's a dip and a level crossing about a +mile over yer,"--he pointed,--"but it's through the woods, and they're +that high with thick bresh." + +"With what?" + +"Bresh," repeated the boy; "THAT,"--pointing to a few fronds of bracken +growing in the shadow of the sycamore. + +"Oh! underbrush?" + +"Yes; I said 'bresh,'" returned the boy, doggedly. "YOU might get +through, ef you war spry, but not your hoss. Where do you want to go, +anyway?" + +"Do you know, George," said Mr. Hamlin, lazily throwing his right +leg over the horn of his saddle for greater ease and deliberation in +replying, "it's very odd, but that's just what I'D like to know. Now, +what would YOU, in your broad statesmanlike views of things generally, +advise?" + +Quite convinced of the stranger's mental unsoundness, the boy glanced +again at his half-dollar, as if to make sure of its integrity, pocketed +it doubtfully, and turned away. + +"Where are you going?" said Hamlin, resuming his seat with the agility +of a circus-rider, and spurring forward. + +"To Green Springs, where I live, two miles over the ridge on the far +slope,"--indicating the direction. + +"Ah!" said Jack, with thoughtful gravity. "Well, kindly give my love to +your sister, will you?" + +"George Washington didn't have no sister," said the boy, cunningly. + +"Can I have been mistaken?" said Hamlin, lifting his hand to his +forehead with grieved accents. "Then it seems YOU have. Kindly give her +my love." + +"Which one?" asked the boy, with a swift glance of mischief. "I've got +four." + +"The one that's like you," returned Hamlin, with prompt exactitude. +"Now, where's the 'bresh' you spoke of?" + +"Keep along the edge until you come to the log-slide. Foller that, and +it'll lead you into the woods. But ye won't go far, I tell ye. When you +have to turn back, instead o' comin' back here, you kin take the trail +that goes round the woods, and that'll bring ye out into the stage road +ag'in near the post-office at the Green Springs crossin' and the new +hotel. That'll be war ye'll turn up, I reckon," he added, reflectively. +"Fellers that come yer gunnin' and fishin' gin'rally do," he concluded, +with a half-inquisitive air. + +"Ah?" said Mr. Hamlin, quietly shedding the inquiry. "Green Springs +Hotel is where the stage stops, eh?" + +"Yes, and at the post-office," said the boy. "She'll be along here +soon," he added. + +"If you mean the Santa Cruz stage," said Hamlin, "she's here already. I +passed her on the ridge half an hour ago." + +The boy gave a sudden start, and a quick uneasy expression passed over +his face. "Go 'long with ye!" he said, with a forced smile: "it ain't +her time yet." + +"But I SAW her," repeated Hamlin, much amused. "Are you expecting +company? Hullo! Where are you off to? Come back." + +But his companion had already vanished in the thicket with the +undeliberate and impulsive act of an animal. There was a momentary +rustle in the alders fifty feet away, and then all was silent. The +hidden brook took up its monotonous murmur, the tapping of a distant +woodpecker became suddenly audible, and Mr. Hamlin was again alone. + +"Wonder whether he's got parents in the stage, and has been playing +truant here," he mused, lazily. "Looked as if he'd been up to some +devilment, or more like as if he was primed for it. If he'd been a +little older, I'd have bet he was in league with some road-agents to +watch the coach. Just my luck to have him light out as I was beginning +to get some talk out of him." He paused, looked at his watch, and +straightened himself in his stirrups. "Four o'clock. I reckon I might as +well try the woods and what that imp calls the 'bresh;' I may strike a +shanty or a native by the way." + +With this determination, Mr. Hamlin urged his horse along the faint +trail by the brink of the watercourse which the boy had just indicated. +He had no definite end in view beyond the one that had brought him the +day before to that locality--his quest of the unknown poetess. His clue +would have seemed to ordinary humanity the faintest. He had merely +noted the provincial name of a certain plant mentioned in the poem, and +learned that its habitat was limited to the southern local range; while +its peculiar nomenclature was clearly of French Creole or Gulf State +origin. This gave him a large though sparsely-populated area +for locality, while it suggested a settlement of Louisianians or +Mississippians near the Summit, of whom, through their native gambling +proclivities, he was professionally cognizant. But he mainly trusted +Fortune. Secure in his faith in the feminine character of that goddess, +he relied a great deal on her well-known weakness for scamps of his +quality. + +It was not long before he came to the "slide"--a lightly-cut or shallow +ditch. It descended slightly in a course that was far from straight, at +times diverging to avoid the obstacles of trees or boulders, at times +shaving them so closely as to leave smooth abrasions along their sides +made by the grinding passage of long logs down the incline. The track +itself was slippery from this, and preoccupied all Hamlin's skill as a +horseman, even to the point of stopping his usual careless whistle. +At the end of half an hour the track became level again, and he was +confronted with a singular phenomenon. + +He had entered the wood, and the trail seemed to cleave through a +far-stretching, motionless sea of ferns that flowed on either side to +the height of his horse's flanks. The straight shafts of the trees rose +like columns from their hidden bases and were lost again in a roof +of impenetrable leafage, leaving a clear space of fifty feet between, +through which the surrounding horizon of sky was perfectly visible. +All the light that entered this vast sylvan hall came from the sides; +nothing permeated from above; nothing radiated from below; the height +of the crest on which the wood was placed gave it this lateral +illumination, but gave it also the profound isolation of some temple +raised by long-forgotten hands. In spite of the height of these clear +shafts, they seemed dwarfed by the expanse of the wood, and in the +farthest perspective the base of ferns and the capital of foliage +appeared almost to meet. As the boy had warned him, the slide had turned +aside, skirting the wood to follow the incline, and presently the little +trail he now followed vanished utterly, leaving him and his horse adrift +breast-high in this green and yellow sea of fronds. But Mr. Hamlin, +imperious of obstacles, and touched by some curiosity, continued to +advance lazily, taking the bearings of a larger red-wood in the centre +of the grove for his objective point. The elastic mass gave way before +him, brushing his knees or combing his horse's flanks with wide-spread +elfin fingers, and closing up behind him as he passed, as if to +obliterate any track by which he might return. Yet his usual luck did +not desert him here. Being on horseback, he found that he could detect +what had been invisible to the boy and probably to all pedestrians, +namely, that the growth was not equally dense, that there were certain +thinner and more open spaces that he could take advantage of by more +circuitous progression, always, however, keeping the bearings of the +central tree. This he at last reached, and halted his panting horse. +Here a new idea which had been haunting him since he entered the wood +took fuller possession of him. He had seen or known all this before! +There was a strange familiarity either in these objects or in the +impression or spell they left upon him. He remembered the verses! Yes, +this was the "underbrush" which the poetess had described: the gloom +above and below, the light that seemed blown through it like the wind, +the suggestion of hidden life beneath this tangled luxuriance, which she +alone had penetrated,--all this was here. But, more than that, here was +the atmosphere that she had breathed into the plaintive melody of her +verse. It did not necessarily follow that Mr. Hamlin's translation of +her sentiment was the correct one, or that the ideas her verses had +provoked in his mind were at all what had been hers: in his easy +susceptibility he was simply thrown into a corresponding mood of +emotion and relieved himself with song. One of the verses he had already +associated in his mind with the rhythm of an old plantation melody, and +it struck his fancy to take advantage of the solitude to try its effect. +Humming to himself, at first softly, he at last grew bolder, and let his +voice drift away through the stark pillars of the sylvan colonnade till +it seemed to suffuse and fill it with no more effort than the light +which strayed in on either side. Sitting thus, his hat thrown a little +back from his clustering curls, the white neck and shoulders of his +horse uplifting him above the crested mass of fern, his red sash the one +fleck of color in their olive depths, I am afraid he looked much +more like the real minstrel of the grove than the unknown poetess who +transfigured it. But this, as has been already indicated, was Jack +Hamlin's peculiar gift. Even as he had previously outshone the vaquero +in his borrowed dress, he now silenced and supplanted a few fluttering +blue-jays--rightful tenants of the wood--with a more graceful and airy +presence and a far sweeter voice. + +The open horizon towards the west had taken a warmer color from the +already slanting sun when Mr. Hamlin, having rested his horse, turned +to that direction. He had noticed that the wood was thinner there, +and, pushing forward, he was presently rewarded by the sound of far-off +wheels, and knew he must be near the high-road that the boy had spoken +of. Having given up his previous intention of crossing the stream, there +seemed nothing better for him to do than to follow the truant's advice +and take the road back to Green Springs. Yet he was loath to leave the +wood, halting on its verge, and turning to look back into its charmed +recesses. Once or twice--perhaps because he recalled the words of the +poem--that yellowish sea of ferns had seemed instinct with hidden life, +and he had even fancied, here and there, a swaying of its plumed crests. +Howbeit, he still lingered long enough for the open sunlight into which +he had obtruded to point out the bravery of his handsome figure. Then +he wheeled his horse, the light glanced from polished double bit and +bridle-fripperies, caught his red sash and bullion buttons, struck a +parting flash from his silver spurs, and he was gone! + +For a moment the light streamed unbrokenly through the wood. And then +it could be seen that the yellow mass of undergrowth HAD moved with the +passage of another figure than his own. For ever since he had entered +the shade, a woman, shawled in a vague, shapeless fashion, had watched +him wonderingly, eagerly, excitedly, gliding from tree to tree as he +advanced, or else dropping breathlessly below the fronds of fern whence +she gazed at him as between parted fingers. When he wheeled she had run +openly to the west, albeit with hidden face and still clinging shawl, +and taken a last look at his retreating figure. And then, with a faint +but lingering sigh, she drew back into the shadow of the wood again and +vanished also. + + +CHAPTER III + + +At the end of twenty minutes Mr. Hamlin reined in his mare. He had just +observed in the distant shadows of a by-lane that intersected his road +the vanishing flutter of two light print dresses. Without a moment's +hesitation he lightly swerved out of the high-road and followed the +retreating figures. + +As he neared them, they seemed to be two slim young girls, evidently +so preoccupied with the rustic amusement of edging each other off the +grassy border into the dust of the track that they did not perceive +his approach. Little shrieks, slight scufflings, and interjections of +"Cynthy! you limb!" "Quit that, Eunice, now!" and "I just call that +real mean!" apparently drowned the sound of his canter in the soft dust. +Checking his speed to a gentle trot, and pressing his horse close beside +the opposite fence, he passed them with gravely uplifted hat and a +serious, preoccupied air. But in that single, seemingly conventional +glance, Mr. Hamlin had seen that they were both pretty, and that one had +the short upper lip of his errant little guide. A hundred yards farther +on he halted, as if irresolutely, gazed doubtfully ahead of him, and +then turned back. An expression of innocent--almost childlike--concern +was clouding the rascal's face. It was well, as the two girls had drawn +closely together, having been apparently surprised in the midst of a +glowing eulogium of this glorious passing vision by its sudden return. +At his nearer approach, the one with the short upper lip hid that +piquant feature and the rest of her rosy face behind the other's +shoulder, which was suddenly and significantly opposed to the advance +of this handsome intruder, with a certain dignity, half real, half +affected, but wholly charming. The protectress appeared--possibly from +her defensive attitude--the superior of her companion. + +Audacious as Jack was to his own sex, he had early learned that +such rare but discomposing graces as he possessed required a certain +apologetic attitude when presented to women, and that it was only a +plain man who could be always complacently self-confident in their +presence. There was, consequently, a hesitating lowering of this +hypocrite's brown eyelashes as he said, in almost pained accents,-- + +"Excuse me, but I fear I've taken the wrong road. I'm going to Green +Springs." + +"I reckon you've taken the wrong road, wherever you're going," returned +the young lady, having apparently made up her mind to resent each of +Jack's perfections as a separate impertinence: "this is a PRIVATE road." +She drew herself fairly up here, although gurgled at in the ear and +pinched in the arm by her companion. + +"I beg your pardon," said Jack, meekly. "I see I'm trespassing on your +grounds. I'm very sorry. Thank you for telling me. I should have gone on +a mile or two farther, I suppose, until I came to your house," he added, +innocently. + +"A mile or two! You'd have run chock ag'in' our gate in another minit," +said the short-lipped one, eagerly. But a sharp nudge from her companion +sent her back again into cover, where she waited expectantly for another +crushing retort from her protector. + +But, alas! it did not come. One cannot be always witty, and Jack looked +distressed. Nevertheless, he took advantage of the pause. + +"It was so stupid in me, as I think your brother"--looking at +Short-lip--"very carefully told me the road." + +The two girls darted quick glances at each other. "Oh, Bawb!" said the +first speaker, in wearied accents,--"THAT limb! He don't keer." + +"But he DID care," said Hamlin, quietly, "and gave me a good deal of +information. Thanks to him, I was able to see that ferny wood that's so +famous--about two miles up the road. You know--the one that there's a +poem written about!" + +The shot told! Short-lip burst into a display of dazzling little teeth +and caught the other girl convulsively by the shoulders. The superior +girl bent her pretty brows, and said, "Eunice, what's gone of ye? Quit +that!" but, as Hamlin thought, paled slightly. + +"Of course," said Hamlin, quickly, "you know--the poem everybody's +talking about. Dear me! let me see! how does it go?" The rascal knit his +brows, said, "Ah, yes," and then murmured the verse he had lately sung +quite as musically. + +Short-lip was shamelessly exalted and excited. Really she could scarcely +believe it! She already heard herself relating the whole occurrence. +Here was the most beautiful young man she had ever seen--an entire +stranger--talking to them in the most beautiful and natural way, +right in the lane, and reciting poetry to her sister! It was like a +novel--only more so. She thought that Cynthia, on the other hand, looked +distressed, and--she must say it--"silly." + +All of which Jack noted, and was wise. He had got all he wanted--at +present. He gathered up his reins. + +"Thank you so much, and your brother, too, Miss Cynthia," he said, +without looking up. Then, adding, with a parting glance and smile, "But +don't tell Bob how stupid I was," he swiftly departed. + +In half an hour he was at the Green Springs Hotel. As he rode into the +stable yard, he noticed that the coach had only just arrived, having +been detained by a land-slip on the Summit road. With the recollection +of Bob fresh in his mind, he glanced at the loungers at the stage +office. The boy was not there, but a moment later Jack detected him +among the waiting crowd at the post-office opposite. With a view of +following up his inquiries, he crossed the road as the boy entered the +vestibule of the post-office. He arrived in time to see him unlock one +of a row of numbered letter-boxes rented by subscribers, which occupied +a partition by the window, and take out a small package and a letter. +But in that brief glance Mr. Hamlin detected the printed address of the +"Excelsior Magazine" on the wrapper. It was enough. Luck was certainly +with him. + +He had time to get rid of the wicked sparkle that had lit his dark eyes, +and to lounge carelessly towards the boy as the latter broke open the +package, and then hurriedly concealed it in his jacket-pocket, and +started for the door. Mr. Hamlin quickly followed him, unperceived, and, +as he stepped into the street, gently tapped him on the shoulder. The +boy turned and faced him quickly. But Mr. Hamlin's eyes showed nothing +but lazy good-humor. + +"Hullo, Bob. Where are you going?" + +The boy again looked up suspiciously at this revelation of his name. + +"Home," he said, briefly. + +"Oh, over yonder," said Hamlin, calmly. "I don't mind walking with you +as far as the lane." + +He saw the boy's eyes glance furtively towards an alley that ran beside +the blacksmith's shop a few rods ahead, and was convinced that he +intended to evade him there. Slipping his arm carelessly in the youth's, +he concluded to open fire at once. + +"Bob," he said, with irresistible gravity, "I did not know when I met +you this morning that I had the honor of addressing a poet--none other +than the famous author of 'Underbrush.'" + +The boy started back, and endeavored to withdraw his arm, but Mr. Hamlin +tightened his hold, without, however, changing his careless expression. + +"You see," he continued, "the editor is a friend of mine, and, being +afraid this package might not get into the right hands--as you didn't +give your name--he deputized me to come here and see that it was all +square. As you're rather young, for all you're so gifted, I reckon I'd +better go home with you, and take a receipt from your parents. That's +about square, I think?" + +The consternation of the boy was so evident and so far beyond Mr. +Hamlin's expectation that he instantly halted him, gazed into his +shifting eyes, and gave a long whistle. + +"Who said it was for ME? Wot you talkin' about? Lemme go!" gasped the +boy, with the short intermittent breath of mingled fear and passion. + +"Bob," said Mr. Hamlin, in a singularly colorless voice which was very +rare with him, and an expression quite unlike his own, "what is your +little game?" + +The boy looked down in dogged silence. + +"Out with it! Who are you playing this on?" + +"It's all among my own folks; it's nothin' to YOU," said the boy, +suddenly beginning to struggle violently, as if inspired by this +extenuating fact. + +"Among your own folks, eh? White Violet and the rest, eh? But SHE'S not +in it?" + +No reply. + +"Hand me over that package. I'll give it back to you again." + +The boy handed it to Mr. Hamlin. He read the letter, and found the +inclosure contained a twenty-dollar gold-piece. A half-supercilious +smile passed over his face at this revelation of the inadequate +emoluments of literature and the trifling inducements to crime. Indeed, +I fear the affair began to take a less serious moral complexion in his +eyes. + +"Then White Violet--your sister Cynthia, you know," continued Mr. +Hamlin, in easy parenthesis--"wrote for this?" holding the coin +contemplatively in his fingers, "and you calculated to nab it yourself?" + +The quick searching glance with which Bob received the name of his +sister, Mr. Hamlin attributed only to his natural surprise that +this stranger should be on such familiar terms with her; but the boy +responded immediately and bluntly:-- + +"No! SHE didn't write for it. She didn't want nobody to know who she +was. Nobody wrote for it but me. Nobody KNEW FOLKS WAS PAID FOR PO'TRY +BUT ME. I found it out from a feller. I wrote for it. I wasn't goin' to +let that skunk of an editor have it himself!" + +"And you thought YOU would take it," said Hamlin, his voice resuming +its old tone. "Well, George--I mean Bob, your conduct was praiseworthy, +although your intentions were bad. Still, twenty dollars is rather +too much for your trouble. Suppose we say five and call it square?" He +handed the astonished boy five dollars. "Now, George Washington," he +continued, taking four other twenty-dollar pieces from his pocket, and +adding them to the inclosure, which he carefully refolded, "I'm going to +give you another chance to live up to your reputation. You'll take that +package, and hand it to White Violet, and say you found it, just as +it is, in the lock-box. I'll keep the letter, for it would knock you +endways if it was seen, and I'll make it all right with the editor. But, +as I've got to tell him that I've seen White Violet myself, and know +she's got it, I expect YOU to manage in some way to have me see her. +I'll manage the rest of it; and I won't blow on you, either. You'll +come back to the hotel, and tell me what you've done. And now, George," +concluded Mr. Hamlin, succeeding at last in fixing the boy's evasive eye +with a peculiar look, "it may be just as well for you to understand +that I know every nook and corner of this place, that I've already been +through that underbrush you spoke of once this morning, and that I've +got a mare that can go wherever YOU can, and a d----d sight quicker!" + +"I'll give the package to White Violet," said the boy, doggedly. + +"And you'll come back to the hotel?" + +The boy hesitated, and then said, "I'll come back." + +"All right, then. Adios, general." + +Bob disappeared around the corner of a cross-road at a rapid trot, and +Mr. Hamlin turned into the hotel. + +"Smart little chap that!" he said to the barkeeper. + +"You bet!" returned the man, who, having recognized Mr. Hamlin, was +delighted at the prospect of conversing with a gentleman of such +decidedly dangerous reputation. "But he's been allowed to run a little +wild since old man Delatour died, and the widder's got enough to do, I +reckon, lookin' arter her four gals, and takin' keer of old Delatour's +ranch over yonder. I guess it's pretty hard sleddin' for her sometimes +to get clo'es and grub for the famerly, without follerin' Bob around." + +"Sharp girls, too, I reckon; one of them writes things for the +magazines, doesn't she?--Cynthia, eh?" said Mr. Hamlin, carelessly. + +Evidently this fact was not a notorious one to the barkeeper. He, +however, said, "Dunno; mabbee; her father was eddicated, and the widder +Delatour, too, though she's sorter queer, I've heard tell. Lord! +Mr. Hamlin, YOU oughter remember old man Delatour! From Opelousas, +Louisiany, you know! High old sport French style, frilled +bosom--open-handed, and us'ter buck ag'in' faro awful! Why, he dropped +a heap o' money to YOU over in San Jose two years ago at poker! You must +remember him!" + +The slightest possible flush passed over Mr. Hamlin's brow under the +shadow of his hat, but did not get lower than his eyes. He suddenly HAD +recalled the spendthrift Delatour perfectly, and as quickly regretted +now that he had not doubled the honorarium he had just sent to his +portionless daughter. But he only said, coolly, "No," and then, raising +his pale face and audacious eyes, continued in his laziest and most +insulting manner, "no: the fact is, my mind is just now preoccupied in +wondering if the gas is leaking anywhere, and if anything is ever served +over this bar except elegant conversation. When the gentleman who mixes +drinks comes back, perhaps you'll be good enough to tell him to send a +whisky sour to Mr. Jack Hamlin in the parlor. Meantime, you can turn off +your soda fountain: I don't want any fizz in mine." + +Having thus quite recovered himself, Mr. Hamlin lounged gracefully +across the hall into the parlor. As he did so, a darkish young man, with +a slim boyish figure, a thin face, and a discontented expression, +rose from an armchair, held out his hand, and, with a saturnine smile, +said:-- + +"Jack!" + +"Fred!" + +The two men remained gazing at each other with a half-amused, +half-guarded expression. Mr. Hamlin was first to begin. "I didn't think +YOU'D be such a fool as to try on this kind of thing, Fred," he said, +half seriously. + +"Yes, but it was to keep you from being a much bigger one that I hunted +you up," said the editor, mischievously. "Read that. I got it an hour +after you left." And he placed a little triumphantly in Jack's hand the +letter he had received from White Violet. + +Mr. Hamlin read it with an unmoved face, and then laid his two hands +on the editor's shoulders. "Yes, my young friend, and you sat down and +wrote her a pretty letter and sent her twenty dollars--which, permit me +to say, was d----d poor pay! But that isn't your fault, I reckon: it's +the meanness of your proprietors." + +"But it isn't the question, either, just now, Jack, however you have +been able to answer it. Do you mean to say seriously that you want to +know anything more of a woman who could write such a letter?" + +"I don't know," said Jack, cheerfully. "She might be a devilish sight +funnier than if she hadn't written it--which is the fact." + +"You mean to say SHE didn't write it?" + +"Yes." + +"Who did, then?" + +"Her brother Bob." + +After a moment's scrutiny of his friend's bewildered face, Mr. Hamlin +briefly related his adventures, from the moment of his meeting Bob at +the mountain-stream to the barkeeper's gossiping comment and sequel. +"Therefore," he concluded, "the author of 'Underbrush' is Miss Cynthia +Delatour, one of four daughters of a widow who lives two miles from +here at the crossing. I shall see her this evening and make sure; +but to-morrow morning you will pay me the breakfast you owe me. She's +good-looking, but I can't say I fancy the poetic style: it's a little +too high-toned for me. However, I love my love with a C, because she is +your Contributor; I hate her with a C, because of her Connections; I met +her by Chance and treated her with Civility; her name is Cynthia, and +she lives on a Cross-road." + +"But you surely don't expect you will ever see Bob, again!" said the +editor, impatiently. "You have trusted him with enough to start him for +the Sandwich Islands, to say nothing of the ruinous precedent you have +established in his mind of the value of poetry. I am surprised that +a man of your knowledge of the world would have faith in that imp the +second time." + +"My knowledge of the world," returned Mr. Hamlin, sententiously, "tells +me that's the only way you can trust anybody. ONCE doesn't make a habit, +nor show a character. I could see by his bungling that he had never +tried this on before. Just now the temptation to wipe out his punishment +by doing the square thing, and coming back a sort of hero, is stronger +than any other. 'Tisn't everybody that gets that chance," he added, with +an odd laugh. + +Nevertheless, three hours passed without bringing Bob. The two men had +gone to the billiard-room, when a waiter brought a note, which he +handed to Mr. Hamlin with some apologetic hesitation. It bore no +superscription, but had been brought by a boy who described Mr. Hamlin +perfectly, and requested that the note should be handed to him with the +remark that "Bob had come back." + +"And is he there now?" asked Mr. Hamlin, holding the letter unopened in +his hand. + +"No, sir; he run right off." + +The editor laughed, but Mr. Hamlin, having perused the note, put away +his cue. "Come into my room," he said. + +The editor followed, and Mr. Hamlin laid the note before him on the +table. "Bob's all right," he said, "for I'll bet a thousand dollars that +note is genuine." + +It was delicately written, in a cultivated feminine hand, utterly unlike +the scrawl that had first excited the editor's curiosity, and ran as +follows:-- + + +He who brought me the bounty of your friend--for I cannot call a +recompense so far above my deserts by any other name--gives me also to +understand that you wished for an interview. I cannot believe that this +is mere idle curiosity, or that you have any motive that is not kindly +and honorable, but I feel that I must beg and pray you not to seek to +remove the veil behind which I have chosen to hide myself and my +poor efforts from identification. I THINK I know you--I KNOW I +know myself--well enough to believe it would give neither of us any +happiness. You will say to your generous friend that he has already +given the Unknown more comfort and hope than could come from any +personal compliment or publicity, and you will yourself believe that you +have all unconsciously brightened a sad woman's fancy with a Dream and a +Vision that before today had been unknown to + +WHITE VIOLET. + + +"Have you read it?" asked Mr. Hamlin. + +"Yes." + +"Then you don't want to see it any more, or even remember you ever saw +it," said Mr. Hamlin, carefully tearing the note into small pieces and +letting them drift from the windows like blown blossoms. + +"But, I say, Jack! look here; I don't understand! You say you have +already seen this woman, and yet"-- + +"I HAVEN'T seen her," said Jack, composedly, turning from the window. + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that you and I, Fred, are going to drop this fooling right here +and leave this place for Frisco by first stage to-morrow, and--that I +owe you that dinner." + + +CHAPTER IV + + +When the stage for San Francisco rolled away the next morning with Mr. +Hamlin and the editor, the latter might have recognized in the occupant +of a dust-covered buggy that was coming leisurely towards them the tall +figure, long beard, and straight duster of his late visitor, Mr. James +Bowers. For Mr. Bowers was on the same quest that the others had just +abandoned. Like Mr. Hamlin, he had been left to his own resources, but +Mr. Bowers's resources were a life-long experience and technical skill; +he too had noted the topographical indications of the poem, and his +knowledge of the sylva of Upper California pointed as unerringly as Mr. +Hamlin's luck to the cryptogamous haunts of the Summit. Such abnormal +growths were indicative of certain localities only, but, as they were +not remunerative from a pecuniary point of view, were to be avoided by +the sagacious woodman. It was clear, therefore, that Mr. Bowers's +visit to Green Springs was not professional, and that he did not even +figuratively accept the omen. + +He baited and rested his horse at the hotel, where his bucolic exterior, +however, did not elicit that attention which had been accorded to Mr. +Hamlin's charming insolence or the editor's cultivated manner. But he +glanced over a township map on the walls of the reading-room, and took +note of the names of the owners of different lots, farms, and ranches, +passing that of Delatour with the others. Then he drove leisurely in the +direction of the woods, and, reaching them, tied his horse to a young +sapling in the shade, and entered their domain with a shambling but +familiar woodman's step. + +It is not the purpose of this brief chronicle to follow Mr. Bowers in +his professional diagnosis of the locality. He recognized Nature in one +of her moods of wasteful extravagance,--a waste that his experienced +eye could tell was also sapping the vitality of those outwardly robust +shafts that rose around him. He knew, without testing them, that half of +these fair-seeming columns were hollow and rotten at the core; he could +detect the chill odor of decay through the hot balsamic spices stirred +by the wind that streamed through their long aisles,--like incense +mingling with the exhalations of a crypt. He stopped now and then to +part the heavy fronds down to their roots in the dank moss, seeing +again, as he had told the editor, the weird SECOND twilight through +their miniature stems, and the microcosm of life that filled it. But, +even while paying this tribute to the accuracy of the unknown poetess, +he was, like his predecessor, haunted more strongly by the atmosphere +and melody of her verse. Its spell was upon him, too. Unlike Mr. Hamlin, +he did not sing. He only halted once or twice, silently combing his +straight narrow beard with his three fingers, until the action seemed +to draw down the lines of his face into limitless dejection, and an +inscrutable melancholy filled his small gray eyes. The few birds which +had hailed Mr. Hamlin as their successful rival fled away before the +grotesque and angular half-length of Mr. Bowers, as if the wind had +blown in a scarecrow from the distant farms. + +Suddenly he observed the figure of a woman, with her back towards him, +leaning motionless against a tree, and apparently gazing intently in the +direction of Green Springs. He had approached so near to her that it +was singular she had not heard him. Mr. Bowers was a bashful man in the +presence of the other sex. He felt exceedingly embarrassed; if he could +have gone away without attracting her attention he would have done so. +Neither could he remain silent, a tacit spy of her meditation. He had +recourse to a polite but singularly artificial cough. + +To his surprise, she gave a faint cry, turned quickly towards him, and +then shrank back and lapsed quite helpless against the tree. Her evident +distress overcame his bashfulness. He ran towards her. + +"I'm sorry I frighted ye, ma'am, but I was afraid I might skeer ye more +if I lay low, and said nothin'." + +Even then, if she had been some fair young country girl, he would have +relapsed after this speech into his former bashfulness. But the face and +figure she turned towards him were neither young nor fair: a woman past +forty, with gray threads and splashes in her brushed-back hair, which +was turned over her ears in two curls like frayed strands of rope. Her +forehead was rather high than broad, her nose large but well-shaped, +and her eyes full but so singularly light in color as to seem almost +sightless. The short upper lip of her large mouth displayed her teeth +in an habitual smile, which was in turn so flatly contradicted by every +other line of her careworn face that it seemed gratuitously artificial. +Her figure was hidden by a shapeless garment that partook equally of the +shawl, cloak, and wrapper. + +"I am very foolish," she began, in a voice and accent that at once +asserted a cultivated woman, "but I so seldom meet anybody here that a +voice quite startled me. That, and the heat," she went on, wiping her +face, into which the color was returning violently--"for I seldom go out +as early as this--I suppose affected me." + +Mr. Bowers had that innate Far-Western reverence for womanhood which +I fancy challenges the most polished politeness. He remained patient, +undemonstrative, self-effacing, and respectful before her, his angular +arm slightly but not obtrusively advanced, the offer of protection being +in the act rather than in any spoken word, and requiring no response. + +"Like as not, ma'am," he said, cheerfully looking everywhere but in her +burning face. "The sun IS pow'ful hot at this time o' day; I felt it +myself comin' yer, and, though the damp of this timber kinder sets it +back, it's likely to come out ag'in. Ye can't check it no more than the +sap in that choked limb thar"--he pointed ostentatiously where a fallen +pine had been caught in the bent and twisted arm of another, but which +still put out a few green tassels beyond the point of impact. "Do you +live far from here, ma'am?" he added. + +"Only as far as the first turning below the hill." + +"I've got my buggy here, and I'm goin' that way, and I can jist set ye +down thar cool and comfortable. Ef," he continued, in the same assuring +tone, without waiting for a reply, "ye'll jist take a good grip of +my arm thar," curving his wrist and hand behind him like a shepherd's +crook, "I'll go first, and break away the brush for ye." + +She obeyed mechanically, and they fared on through the thick ferns in +this fashion for some moments, he looking ahead, occasionally dropping +a word of caution or encouragement, but never glancing at her face. +When they reached the buggy he lifted her into it carefully,--and +perpendicularly, it struck her afterwards, very much as if she had been +a transplanted sapling with bared and sensitive roots,--and then gravely +took his place beside her. + +"Bein' in the timber trade myself, ma'am," he said, gathering up the +reins, "I chanced to sight these woods, and took a look around. My name +is Bowers, of Mendocino; I reckon there ain't much that grows in the +way o' standin' timber on the Pacific Slope that I don't know and can't +locate, though I DO say it. I've got ez big a mill, and ez big a run in +my district, ez there is anywhere. Ef you're ever up my way, you ask for +Bowers--Jim Bowers--and that's ME." + +There is probably nothing more conducive to conversation between +strangers than a wholesome and early recognition of each other's +foibles. Mr. Bowers, believing his chance acquaintance a superior woman, +naively spoke of himself in a way that he hoped would reassure her +that she was not compromising herself in accepting his civility, and so +satisfy what must be her inevitable pride. On the other hand, the woman +regained her self-possession by this exhibition of Mr. Bowers's vanity, +and, revived by the refreshing breeze caused by the rapid motion of the +buggy along the road, thanked him graciously. + +"I suppose there are many strangers at the Green Springs Hotel," she +said, after a pause. + +"I didn't get to see 'em, as I only put up my hoss there," he replied. +"But I know the stage took some away this mornin': it seemed pretty well +loaded up when I passed it." + +The woman drew a deep sigh. The act struck Mr. Bowers as a possible +return of her former nervous weakness. Her attention must at once be +distracted at any cost--even conversation. + +"Perhaps," he began, with sudden and appalling lightness, "I'm a-talkin' +to Mrs. McFadden?" + +"No," said the woman, abstractedly. + +"Then it must be Mrs. Delatour? There are only two township lots on that +crossroad." + +"My name IS Delatour," she said, somewhat wearily. + +Mr. Bowers was conversationally stranded. He was not at all anxious to +know her name, yet, knowing it now, it seemed to suggest that there was +nothing more to say. He would, of course, have preferred to ask her +if she had read the poetry about the Underbrush, and if she knew the +poetess, and what she thought of it; but the fact that she appeared +to be an "eddicated" woman made him sensitive of displaying technical +ignorance in his manner of talking about it. She might ask him if it was +"subjective" or "objective"--two words he had heard used at the Debating +Society at Mendocino on the question, "Is poetry morally beneficial?" +For a few moments he was silent. But presently she took the initiative +in conversation, at first slowly and abstractedly, and then, as if +appreciating his sympathetic reticence, or mayhap finding some relief +in monotonous expression, talked mechanically, deliberately, but +unostentatiously about herself. So colorless was her intonation that at +times it did not seem as if she was talking to him, but repeating some +conversation she had held with another. + +She had lived there ever since she had been in California. Her husband +had bought the Spanish title to the property when they first married. +The property at his death was found to be greatly involved; she had been +obliged to part with much of it to support her children--four girls and +a boy. She had been compelled to withdraw the girls from the convent at +Santa Clara to help about the house; the boy was too young--she feared, +too shiftless--to do anything. The farm did not pay; the land was poor; +she knew nothing about farming; she had been brought up in New Orleans, +where her father had been a judge, and she didn't understand country +life. Of course she had been married too young--as all girls were. +Lately she had thought of selling off and moving to San Francisco, where +she would open a boarding-house or a school for young ladies. He could +advise her, perhaps, of some good opportunity. Her own girls were far +enough advanced to assist her in teaching; one particularly, Cynthia, +was quite clever, and spoke French and Spanish fluently. + +As Mr. Bowers was familiar with many of these counts in the feminine +American indictment of life generally, he was not perhaps greatly moved. +But in the last sentence he thought he saw an opening to return to his +main object, and, looking up cautiously, said:-- + +"And mebbe write po'try now and then?" To his great discomfiture, the +only effect of this suggestion was to check his companion's speech for +some moments and apparently throw her back into her former abstraction. +Yet, after a long pause, as they were turning into the lane, she said, +as if continuing the subject:-- + +"I only hope that, whatever my daughters may do, they won't marry +young." + +The yawning breaches in the Delatour gates and fences presently came +in view. They were supposed to be reinforced by half a dozen dogs, +who, however, did their duty with what would seem to be the prevailing +inefficiency, retiring after a single perfunctory yelp to shameless +stretching, scratching, and slumber. Their places were taken on the +veranda by two negro servants, two girls respectively of eight and +eleven, and a boy of fourteen, who remained silently staring. As Mr. +Bowers had accepted the widow's polite invitation to enter, she was +compelled, albeit in an equally dazed and helpless way, to issue some +preliminary orders:-- + +"Now, Chloe--I mean aunt Dinah--do take Eunice--I mean Victorine and +Una--away, and--you know--tidy them; and you, Sarah--it's Sarah, isn't +it?--lay some refreshment in the parlor for this gentleman. And, +Bob, tell your sister Cynthia to come here with Eunice." As Bob still +remained staring at Mr. Bowers, she added, in weary explanation, "Mr. +Bowers brought me over from the Summit woods in his buggy--it was so +hot. There--shake hands and thank him, and run away--do!" + +They crossed a broad but scantily-furnished hall. Everywhere the same +look of hopeless incompleteness, temporary utility, and premature decay; +most of the furniture was mismatched and misplaced; many of the rooms +had changed their original functions or doubled them; a smell of cooking +came from the library, on whose shelves, mingled with books, were +dresses and household linen, and through the door of a room into which +Mrs. Delatour retired to remove her duster Mr. Bowers caught a glimpse +of a bed, and of a table covered with books and papers, at which a +tall, fair girl was writing. In a few moments Mrs. Delatour returned, +accompanied by this girl, and Eunice, her short-lipped sister. Bob, who +joined the party seated around Mr. Bowers and a table set with cake, a +decanter, and glasses, completed the group. Emboldened by the presence +of the tall Cynthia and his glimpse of her previous literary attitude, +Mr. Bowers resolved to make one more attempt. + +"I suppose these yer young ladies sometimes go to the wood, too?" As his +eye rested on Cynthia, she replied:-- + +"Oh, yes." + +"I reckon on account of the purty shadows down in the brush, and the +soft light, eh? and all that?" he continued, with a playful manner but a +serious accession of color. + +"Why, the woods belong to us. It's mar's property!" broke in Eunice with +a flash of teeth. + +"Well, Lordy, I wanter know!" said Mr. Bowers, in some astonishment. +"Why, that's right in my line, too! I've been sightin' timber all along +here, and that's how I dropped in on yer mar." Then, seeing a look of +eagerness light up the faces of Bob and Eunice, he was encouraged to +make the most of his opportunity. "Why, ma'am," he went on, cheerfully, +"I reckon you're holdin' that wood at a pretty stiff figger, now." + +"Why?" asked Mrs. Delatour, simply. + +Mr. Bowers delivered a wink at Bob and Eunice, who were still watching +him with anxiety. "Well, not on account of the actool timber, for the +best of it ain't sound," he said, "but on account of its bein' famous! +Everybody that reads that pow'ful pretty poem about it in the 'Excelsior +Magazine' wants to see it. Why, it would pay the Green Springs +hotel-keeper to buy it up for his customers. But I s'pose you reckon to +keep it--along with the poetess--in your famerly?" + +Although Mr. Bowers long considered this speech as the happiest and most +brilliant effort of his life, its immediate effect was not, perhaps, +all that could be desired. The widow turned upon him a restrained and +darkening face. Cynthia half rose with an appealing "Oh, mar!" and Bob +and Eunice, having apparently pinched each other to the last stage of +endurance, retired precipitately from the room in a prolonged giggle. + +"I have not yet thought of disposing of the Summit woods, Mr. Bowers," +said Mrs. Delatour, coldly, "but if I should do so, I will consult you. +You must excuse the children, who see so little company, they are quite +unmanageable when strangers are present. Cynthia, WILL you see if the +servants have looked after Mr. Bowers's horse? You know Bob is not to be +trusted." + +There was clearly nothing else for Mr. Bowers to do but to take his +leave, which he did respectfully, if not altogether hopefully. But when +he had reached the lane, his horse shied from the unwonted spectacle of +Bob, swinging his hat, and apparently awaiting him, from the fork of a +wayside sapling. + +"Hol' up, mister. Look here!" + +Mr. Bowers pulled up. Bob dropped into the road, and, after a backward +glance over his shoulder, said:-- + +"Drive 'longside the fence in the shadder." As Mr. Bowers obeyed, +Bob approached the wheels of the buggy in a manner half shy, half +mysterious. "You wanter buy them Summit woods, mister?" + +"Well, per'aps, sonny. Why?" smiled Mr. Bowers. + +"Coz I'll tell ye suthin'. Don't you be fooled into allowin' that +Cynthia wrote that po'try. She didn't--no more'n Eunice nor me. Mar +kinder let ye think it, 'cos she don't want folks to think SHE did it. +But mar wrote that po'try herself; wrote it out o' them thar woods--all +by herself. Thar's a heap more po'try thar, you bet, and jist as good. +And she's the one that kin write it--you hear me? That's my mar, every +time! You buy that thar wood, and get mar to run it for po'try, and +you'll make your pile, sure! I ain't lyin'. You'd better look spry: +thar's another feller snoopin' 'round yere--only he barked up the wrong +tree, and thought it was Cynthia, jist as you did." + +"Another feller?" repeated the astonished Bowers. + +"Yes; a rig'lar sport. He was orful keen on that po'try, too, you bet. +So you'd better hump yourself afore somebody else cuts in. Mar got a +hundred dollars for that pome, from that editor feller and his pardner. +I reckon that's the rig'lar price, eh?" he added, with a sudden +suspicious caution. + +"I reckon so," replied Mr. Bowers, blankly. "But--look here, Bob! Do you +mean to say it was your mother--your MOTHER, Bob, who wrote that poem? +Are you sure?" + +"D'ye think I'm lyin'?" said Bob, scornfully. "Don't I know? Don't I +copy 'em out plain for her, so as folks won't know her handwrite? Go +'way! you're loony!" Then, possibly doubting if this latter expression +were strictly diplomatic with the business in hand, he added, in +half-reproach, half-apology, "Don't ye see I don't want ye to be fooled +into losin' yer chance o' buying up that Summit wood? It's the cold +truth I'm tellin' ye." + +Mr. Bowers no longer doubted it. Disappointed as he undoubtedly was at +first,--and even self-deceived,--he recognized in a flash the grim fact +that the boy had stated. He recalled the apparition of the sad-faced +woman in the wood--her distressed manner, that to his inexperienced +mind now took upon itself the agitated trembling of disturbed mystic +inspiration. A sense of sadness and remorse succeeded his first shock of +disappointment. + +"Well, are ye going to buy the woods?" said Bob, eying him grimly. "Ye'd +better say." + +Mr. Bowers started. "I shouldn't wonder, Bob," he said, with a smile, +gathering up his reins. "Anyhow, I'm comin' back to see your mother this +afternoon. And meantime, Bob, you keep the first chance for me." + +He drove away, leaving the youthful diplomatist standing with his bare +feet in the dust. For a minute or two the young gentleman amused himself +by a few light saltatory steps in the road. Then a smile of scornful +superiority, mingled perhaps with a sense of previous slights and +unappreciation, drew back his little upper lip, and brightened his +mottled cheek. + +"I'd like ter know," he said, darkly, "what this yer God-forsaken +famerly would do without ME!" + + +CHAPTER V + + +It is to be presumed that the editor and Mr. Hamlin mutually kept to +their tacit agreement to respect the impersonality of the poetess, +for during the next three months the subject was seldom alluded to +by either. Yet in that period White Violet had sent two other +contributions, and on each occasion Mr. Hamlin had insisted upon +increasing the honorarium to the amount of his former gift. In vain the +editor pointed out the danger of this form of munificence; Mr. Hamlin +retorted by saying that if he refused he would appeal to the proprietor, +who certainly would not object to taking the credit of this liberality. +"As to the risks," concluded Jack, sententiously, "I'll take them; and +as far as you're concerned, you certainly get the worth of your money." + +Indeed, if popularity was an indiction, this had become suddenly true. +For the poetess's third contribution, without changing its strong +local color and individuality, had been an unexpected outburst of human +passion--a love-song, that touched those to whom the subtler meditative +graces of the poetess had been unknown. Many people had listened to this +impassioned but despairing cry from some remote and charmed solitude, +who had never read poetry before, who translated it into their own +limited vocabulary and more limited experience, and were inexpressibly +affected to find that they, too, understood it; it was caught up and +echoed by the feverish, adventurous, and unsatisfied life that filled +that day and time. Even the editor was surprised and frightened. Like +most cultivated men, he distrusted popularity: like all men who believe +in their own individual judgment, he doubted collective wisdom. Yet +now that his protegee had been accepted by others, he questioned that +judgment and became her critic. It struck him that her sudden outburst +was strained; it seemed to him that in this mere contortion of passion +the sibyl's robe had become rudely disarranged. He spoke to Hamlin, and +even approached the tabooed subject. + +"Did you see anything that suggested this sort of business in--in--that +woman--I mean in--your pilgrimage, Jack?" + +"No," responded Jack, gravely. "But it's easy to see she's got hold +of some hay-footed fellow up there in the mountains with straws in his +hair, and is playing him for all he's worth. You won't get much more +poetry out of her, I reckon." + +Is was not long after this conversation that one afternoon, when the +editor was alone, Mr. James Bowers entered the editorial room with much +of the hesitation and irresolution of his previous visit. As the editor +had not only forgotten him, but even, dissociated him with the poetess, +Mr. Bowers was fain to meet his unresponsive eye and manner with some +explanation. + +"Ye disremember my comin' here, Mr. Editor, to ask you the name o' the +lady who called herself 'White Violet,' and how you allowed you couldn't +give it, but would write and ask for it?" + +Mr. Editor, leaning back in his chair, now remembered the occurrence, +but was distressed to add that the situation remained unchanged, and +that he had received no such permission. + +"Never mind THAT, my lad," said Mr. Bowers, gravely, waving his hand. "I +understand all that; but, ez I've known the lady ever since, and am now +visiting her at her house on the Summit, I reckon it don't make much +matter." + +It was quite characteristic of Mr. Bowers's smileless earnestness that +he made no ostentation of this dramatic retort, nor of the undisguised +stupefaction of the editor. + +"Do you mean to say that you have met White Violet, the author of these +poems?" repeated the editor. + +"Which her name is Delatour,--the widder Delatour,--ez she has herself +give me permission to tell you," continued Mr. Bowers, with a certain +abstracted and automatic precision that dissipated any suggestion of +malice in the reversed situation. + +"Delatour!--a widow!" repeated the editor. + +"With five children," continued Mr. Bowers. Then, with unalterable +gravity, he briefly gave an outline of her condition and the +circumstances of his acquaintance with her. + +"But I reckoned YOU might have known suthin' o' this; though she never +let on you did," he concluded, eying the editor with troubled curiosity. + +The editor did not think it necessary to implicate Mr. Hamlin. He said, +briefly, "I? Oh, no!" + +"Of course, YOU might not have seen her?" said Mr. Bowers, keeping the +same grave, troubled gaze on the editor. + +"Of course not," said the editor, somewhat impatient under the singular +scrutiny of Mr. Bowers; "and I'm very anxious to know how she looks. +Tell me, what is she like?" + +"She is a fine, pow'ful, eddicated woman," said Mr. Bowers, with slow +deliberation. "Yes, sir,--a pow'ful woman, havin' grand ideas of her +own, and holdin' to 'em." He had withdrawn his eyes from the editor, and +apparently addressed the ceiling in confidence. + +"But what does she look like, Mr. Bowers?" said the editor, smiling. + +"Well, sir, she looks--LIKE--IT! Yes,"--with deliberate caution,--"I +should say, just like it." + +After a pause, apparently to allow the editor to materialize this +ravishing description, he said, gently, "Are you busy just now?" + +"Not very. What can I do for you?" + +"Well, not much for ME, I reckon," he returned, with a deeper +respiration, that was his nearest approach to a sigh, "but suthin' +perhaps for yourself and--another. Are you married?" + +"No," said the editor, promptly. + +"Nor engaged to any--young lady?"--with great politeness. + +"No." + +"Well, mebbe you think it a queer thing for me to say,--mebbe you reckon +you KNOW it ez well ez anybody,--but it's my opinion that White Violet +is in love with you." + +"With me?" ejaculated the editor, in a hopeless astonishment that at +last gave way to an incredulous and irresistible laugh. + +A slight touch of pain passed over Mr. Bowers's dejected face, but left +the deep outlines set with a rude dignity. "It's SO," he said, slowly, +"though, as a young man and a gay feller, ye may think it's funny." + +"No, not funny, but a terrible blunder, Mr. Bowers, for I give you my +word I know nothing of the lady and have never set eyes upon her." + +"No, but she has on YOU. I can't say," continued Mr. Bowers, with +sublime naivete, "that I'd ever recognize you from her description, but +a woman o' that kind don't see with her eyes like you and me, but with +all her senses to onct, and a heap more that ain't senses as we know +'em. The same eyes that seed down through the brush and ferns in the +Summit woods, the same ears that heerd the music of the wind trailin' +through the pines, don't see you with my eyes or hear you with my ears. +And when she paints you, it's nat'ril for a woman with that pow'ful mind +and grand idees to dip her brush into her heart's blood for warmth and +color. Yer smilin', young man. Well, go on and smile at me, my lad, but +not at her. For you don't know her. When you know her story as I do, +when you know she was made a wife afore she ever knew what it was to be +a young woman, when you know that the man she married never understood +the kind o' critter he was tied to no more than ef he'd been a steer +yoked to a Morgan colt, when ye know she had children growin' up around +her afore she had given over bein' a sort of child herself, when ye +know she worked and slaved for that man and those children about the +house--her heart, her soul, and all her pow'ful mind bein' all the time +in the woods along with the flickering leaves and the shadders,--when +ye mind she couldn't get the small ways o' the ranch because she had the +big ways o' Natur' that made it,--then you'll understand her." + +Impressed by the sincerity of his visitor's manner, touched by the +unexpected poetry of his appeal, and yet keenly alive to the absurdity +of an incomprehensible blunder somewhere committed, the editor gasped +almost hysterically,-- + +"But why should all this make her in love with ME?" + +"Because ye are both gifted," returned Mr. Bowers, with sad but +unconquerable conviction; "because ye're both, so to speak, in a line +o' idees and business that draws ye together,--to lean on each other and +trust each other ez pardners. Not that YE are ezakly her ekal," he went +on, with a return to his previous exasperating naivete, "though I've +heerd promisin' things of ye, and ye're still young, but in matters +o' this kind there is allers one ez hez to be looked up to by +the other,--and gin'rally the wrong one. She looks up to you, Mr. +Editor,--it's part of her po'try,--ez she looks down inter the brush +and sees more than is plain to you and me. Not," he continued, with a +courteously deprecating wave of the hand, "ez you hain't bin kind to +her--mebbe TOO kind. For thar's the purty letter you writ her, thar's +the perlite, easy, captivatin' way you had with her gals and +that boy--hold on!"--as the editor made a gesture of despairing +renunciation,--"I ain't sayin' you ain't right in keepin' it to +yourself,--and thar's the extry money you sent her every time. Stop! she +knows it was EXTRY, for she made a p'int o' gettin' me to find out the +market price o' po'try in papers and magazines, and she reckons you've +bin payin' her four hundred per cent. above them figgers--hold on! I +ain't sayin' it ain't free and liberal in you, and I'd have done the +same thing; yet SHE thinks"-- + +But the editor had risen hastily to his feet with flushing cheeks. + +"One moment, Mr. Bowers," he said, hurriedly. "This is the most dreadful +blunder of all. The gift is not mine. It was the spontaneous offering +of another who really admired our friend's work,--a gentleman who"--He +stopped suddenly. + +The sound of a familiar voice, lightly humming, was borne along the +passage; the light tread of a familiar foot was approaching. The editor +turned quickly towards the open door,--so quickly that Mr. Bowers was +fain to turn also. + +For a charming instant the figure of Jack Hamlin, handsome, careless, +and confident, was framed in the doorway. His dark eyes, with their +habitual scorn of his average fellow-man, swept superciliously over +Mr. Bowers, and rested for an instant with caressing familiarity on the +editor. + +"Well, sonny, any news from the old girl at the Summit?" + +"No-o," hastily stammered the editor, with a half-hysterical laugh. "No, +Jack. Excuse me a moment." + +"All right; busy, I see. Hasta manana." + +The picture vanished, the frame was empty. + +"You see," continued the editor, turning to Mr. Bowers, "there has been +a mistake. I"--but he stopped suddenly at the ashen face of Mr. Bowers, +still fixed in the direction of the vanished figure. + +"Are you ill?" + +Mr. Bowers did not reply, but slowly withdrew his eyes, and turned them +heavily on the editor. Then, drawing a longer, deeper breath, he picked +up his soft felt hat, and, moulding it into shape in his hands as if +preparing to put it on, he moistened his dry, grayish lips, and said, +gently:-- + +"Friend o' yours?" + +"Yes," said the editor--"Jack Hamlin. Of course, you know him?" + +"Yes." + +Mr. Bowers here put his hat on his head, and, after a pause, turned +round slowly once or twice, as if he had forgotten it, and was still +seeking it. Finally he succeeded in finding the editor's hand, and shook +it, albeit his own trembled slightly. Then he said:-- + +"I reckon you're right. There's bin a mistake. I see it now. Good-by. +If you're ever up my way, drop in and see me." He then walked to the +doorway, passed out, and seemed to melt into the afternoon shadows of +the hall. + +He never again entered the office of the "Excelsior Magazine," neither +was any further contribution ever received from White Violet. To a +polite entreaty from the editor, addressed first to "White Violet" +and then to Mrs. Delatour, there was no response. The thought of Mr. +Hamlin's cynical prophecy disturbed him, but that gentleman, preoccupied +in filling some professional engagements in Sacramento, gave him no +chance to acquire further explanations as to the past or the future. The +youthful editor was at first in despair and filled with a vague remorse +of some unfulfilled duty. But, to his surprise, the readers of the +magazine seemed to survive their talented contributor, and the feverish +life that had been thrilled by her song, in two months had apparently +forgotten her. Nor was her voice lifted from any alien quarter; the +domestic and foreign press that had echoed her lays seemed to respond no +longer to her utterance. + +It is possible that some readers of these pages may remember a previous +chronicle by the same historian wherein it was recorded that the +volatile spirit of Mr. Hamlin, slightly assisted by circumstances, +passed beyond these voices at the Ranch of the Blessed Fisherman, some +two years later. As the editor stood beside the body of his friend on +the morning of the funeral, he noticed among the flowers laid upon his +bier by loving hands a wreath of white violets. Touched and disturbed +by a memory long since forgotten, he was further embarrassed, as the +cortege dispersed in the Mission graveyard, by the apparition of the +tall figure of Mr. James Bowers from behind a monumental column. The +editor turned to him quickly. + +"I am glad to see you here," he said, awkwardly, and he knew not +why; then, after a pause, "I trust you can give me some news of Mrs. +Delatour. I wrote to her nearly two years ago, but had no response." + +"Thar's bin no Mrs. Delatour for two years," said Mr. Bowers, +contemplatively stroking his beard; "and mebbe that's why. She's bin for +two years Mrs. Bowers." + +"I congratulate you," said the editor; "but I hope there still remains +a White Violet, and that, for the sake of literature, she has not given +up"-- + +"Mrs. Bowers," interrupted Mr. Bowers, with singular deliberation, +"found that makin' po'try and tendin' to the cares of a growin'-up +famerly was irritatin' to the narves. They didn't jibe, so to speak. +What Mrs. Bowers wanted--and what, po'try or no po'try, I've bin tryin' +to give her--was Rest! She's bin havin' it comfor'bly up at my ranch +at Mendocino, with her children and me. Yes, sir"--his eye wandered +accidentally to the new-made grave--"you'll excuse my sayin' it to a man +in your profession, but it's what most folks will find is a heap better +than readin' or writin' or actin' po'try--and that's Rest!" + + + + +THE CHATELAINE OF BURNT RIDGE + + +CHAPTER I + + +It had grown dark on Burnt Ridge. Seen from below, the whole serrated +crest that had glittered in the sunset as if its interstices were eaten +by consuming fires, now, closed up its ranks of blackened shafts and +became again harsh and sombre chevaux de frise against the sky. A faint +glow still lingered over the red valley road, as if it were its own +reflection, rather than any light from beyond the darkened ridge. Night +was already creeping up out of remote canyons and along the furrowed +flanks of the mountain, or settling on the nearer woods with the sound +of home-coming and innumerable wings. At a point where the road began to +encroach upon the mountain-side in its slow winding ascent the darkness +had become so real that a young girl cantering along the rising terrace +found difficulty in guiding her horse, with eyes still dazzled by the +sunset fires. + +In spite of her precautions, the animal suddenly shied at some object +in the obscured roadway, and nearly unseated her. The accident disclosed +not only the fact that she was riding in a man's saddle, but also a foot +and ankle that her ordinary walking-dress was too short to hide. It was +evident that her equestrian exercise was extempore, and that at that +hour and on that road she had not expected to meet company. But she was +apparently a good horsewoman, for the mischance which might have thrown +a less practical or more timid rider seemed of little moment to her. +With a strong hand and determined gesture she wheeled her frightened +horse back into the track, and rode him directly at the object. But here +she herself slightly recoiled, for it was the body of a man lying in the +road. + +As she leaned forward over her horse's shoulder, she could see by the +dim light that he was a miner, and that, though motionless, he was +breathing stertorously. Drunk, no doubt!--an accident of the locality +alarming only to her horse. But although she cantered impatiently +forward, she had not proceeded a hundred yards before she stopped +reflectively, and trotted back again. He had not moved. She could now +see that his head and shoulders were covered with broken clods of earth +and gravel, and smaller fragments lay at his side. A dozen feet above +him on the hillside there was a foot trail which ran parallel with the +bridle-road, and occasionally overhung it. It seemed possible that he +might have fallen from the trail and been stunned. + +Dismounting, she succeeded in dragging him to a safer position by the +bank. The act discovered his face, which was young, and unknown to her. +Wiping it with the silk handkerchief which was loosely slung around his +neck after the fashion of his class, she gave a quick feminine glance +around her and then approached her own and rather handsome face near his +lips. There was no odor of alcohol in the thick and heavy respiration. +Mounting again, she rode forward at an accelerated pace, and in twenty +minutes had reached a higher tableland of the mountain, a cleared +opening in the forest that showed signs of careful cultivation, and +a large, rambling, yet picturesque-looking dwelling, whose unpainted +red-wood walls were hidden in roses and creepers. Pushing open a +swinging gate, she entered the inclosure as a brown-faced man, dressed +as a vaquero, came towards her as if to assist her to alight. But she +had already leaped to the ground and thrown him the reins. + +"Miguel," she said, with a mistress's quiet authority in her boyish +contralto voice, "put Glory in the covered wagon, and drive down the +road as far as the valley turning. There's a man lying near the right +bank, drunk, or sick, may be, or perhaps crippled by a fall. Bring him +up here, unless somebody has found him already, or you happen to know +who he is and where to take him." + +The vaquero raised his shoulders, half in disappointed expectation +of some other command. "And your brother, senora, he has not himself +arrived." + +A light shadow of impatience crossed her face. "No," she said, bluntly. +"Come, be quick." + +She turned towards the house as the man moved away. Already a +gaunt-looking old man had appeared in the porch, and was awaiting her +with his hand shadowing his angry, suspicious eyes, and his lips moving +querulously. + +"Of course, you've got to stand out there and give orders and 'tend +to your own business afore you think o' speaking to your own flesh and +blood," he said aggrievedly. "That's all YOU care!" + +"There was a sick man lying in the road, and I've sent Miguel to look +after him," returned the girl, with a certain contemptuous resignation. + +"Oh, yes!" struck in another voice, which seemed to belong to the female +of the first speaker's species, and to be its equal in age and temper, +"and I reckon you saw a jay bird on a tree, or a squirrel on the fence, +and either of 'em was more important to you than your own brother." + +"Steve didn't come by the stage, and didn't send any message," continued +the young girl, with the same coldly resigned manner. "No one had any +news of him, and, as I told you before, I didn't expect any." + +"Why don't you say right out you didn't WANT any?" said the old man, +sneeringly. "Much you inquired! No; I orter hev gone myself, and I would +if I was master here, instead of me and your mother bein' the dust of +the yearth beneath your feet." + +The young girl entered the house, followed by the old man, passing an +old woman seated by the window, who seemed to be nursing her resentment +and a large Bible which she held clasped against her shawled bosom +at the same moment. Going to the wall, she hung up her large hat +and slightly shook the red dust from her skirts as she continued her +explanation, in the same deep voice, with a certain monotony of logic +and possibly of purpose and practice also. + +"You and mother know as well as I do, father, that Stephen is no more to +be depended upon than the wind that blows. It's three years since he has +been promising to come, and even getting money to come, and yet he has +never showed his face, though he has been a dozen times within five +miles of this house. He doesn't come because he doesn't want to come. As +to YOUR going over to the stage-office, I went there myself at the last +moment to save you the mortification of asking questions of strangers +that they know have been a dozen times answered already." + +There was such a ring of absolute truthfulness, albeit worn by +repetition, in the young girl's deep honest voice that for one instant +her two more emotional relatives quailed before it; but only for a +moment. + +"That's right!" shrilled the old woman. "Go on and abuse your own +brother. It's only the fear you have that he'll make his fortune yet and +shame you before the father and mother you despise." + +The young girl remained standing by the window, motionless and +apparently passive, as if receiving an accepted and usual punishment. +But here the elder woman gave way to sobs and some incoherent snuffling, +at which the younger went away. Whether she recognized in her mother's +tears the ordinary deliquescence of emotion, or whether, as a woman +herself, she knew that this mere feminine conventionality could not +possibly be directed at her, and that the actual conflict between them +had ceased, she passed slowly on to an inner hall, leaving the male +victim, her unfortunate father, to succumb, as he always did sooner or +later, to their influence. Crossing the hall, which was decorated with a +few elk horns, Indian trophies, and mountain pelts, she entered another +room, and closed the door behind her with a gesture of relief. + +The room, which looked upon a porch, presented a singular combination of +masculine business occupations and feminine taste and adornment. A desk +covered with papers, a shelf displaying a ledger and account-books, +another containing works of reference, a table with a vase of flowers +and a lady's riding-whip upon it, a map of California flanked on either +side by an embroidered silken workbag and an oval mirror decked with +grasses, a calendar and interest-table hanging below two school-girl +crayons of classic heads with the legend, "Josephine Forsyth +fecit,"--were part of its incongruous accessories. The young girl +went to her desk, but presently moved and turned towards the window +thoughtfully. The last gleam had died from the steel-blue sky; a +few lights like star points began to prick out the lower valley. The +expression of monotonous restraint and endurance had not yet faded from +her face. + +Yet she had been accustomed to scenes like the one she had just passed +though since her girlhood. Five years ago, Alexander Forsyth, her uncle, +had brought her to this spot--then a mere log cabin on the hillside--as +a refuge from the impoverished and shiftless home of his elder brother +Thomas and his ill-tempered wife. Here Alexander Forsyth, by reason of +his more dominant character and business capacity, had prospered until +he became a rich and influential ranch owner. Notwithstanding her +father's jealousy of Alexander's fortune, and the open rupture that +followed between the brothers, Josephine retained her position in the +heart and home of her uncle without espousing the cause of either; and +her father was too prudent not to recognize the near and prospective +advantages of such a mediator. Accustomed to her parents' extravagant +denunciations, and her uncle's more repressed but practical contempt of +them, the unfortunate girl early developed a cynical disbelief in the +virtues of kinship in the abstract, and a philosophical resignation to +its effects upon her personally. Believing that her father and uncle +fairly represented the fraternal principle, she was quite prepared for +the early defection and distrust of her vagabond and dissipated brother +Stephen, and accepted it calmly. True to an odd standard of justice, +which she had erected from the crumbling ruins of her own domestic +life, she was tolerant of everything but human perfection. This quality, +however fatal to her higher growth, had given her a peculiar capacity +for business which endeared her to her uncle. Familiar with the +strong passions and prejudices of men, she had none of those feminine +meannesses, a wholesome distrust of which had kept her uncle a bachelor. +It was not strange, therefore, that when he died two years ago it was +found that he had left her his entire property, real and personal, +limited only by a single condition. She was to undertake the vocation +of a "sole trader," and carry on the business under the name of "J. +Forsyth." If she married, the estate and property was to be held +distinct from her husband's, inalienable under the "Married Woman's +Property Act," and subject during her life only to her own control and +personal responsibilities as a trader. + +The intense disgust and discomfiture of her parents, who had expected to +more actively participate in their brother's fortune, may be imagined. +But it was not equal to their fury when Josephine, instead of providing +for them a separate maintenance out of her abundance, simply offered to +transfer them and her brother to her own house on a domestic but not +a business equality. There being no alternative but their former +precarious shiftless life in their "played-out" claim in the valley, +they wisely consented, reserving the sacred right of daily protest and +objurgation. In the economy of Burnt Ridge Ranch they alone took it upon +themselves to represent the shattered domestic altar and its outraged +Lares and Penates. And so conscientiously did they perform their task +as even occasionally to impede the business visitor to the ranch, and to +cause some of the more practical neighbors seriously to doubt the young +girl's commercial wisdom. But she was firm. Whether she thought her +parents a necessity of respectable domesticity, or whether she regarded +their presence in the light of a penitential atonement for some previous +disregard of them, no one knew. Public opinion inclined to the latter. + +The black line of ridge faded out with her abstraction, and she +turned from the window and lit the lamp on her desk. The yellow light +illuminated her face and figure. In their womanly graces there was no +trace of what some people believed to be a masculine character, except +a singularly frank look of critical inquiry and patient attention in her +dark eyes. Her long brown hair was somewhat rigidly twisted into a knot +on the top of her head, as if more for security than ornament. Brown +was also the prevailing tint of her eyebrows, thickly-set eyelashes, and +eyes, and was even suggested in the slight sallowness of her complexion. +But her lips were well-cut and fresh-colored and her hands and feet +small and finely formed. She would have passed for a pretty girl, had +she not suggested something more. + +She sat down, and began to examine a pile of papers before her with that +concentration and attention to detail which was characteristic of her +eyes, pausing at times with prettily knit brows, and her penholder +between her lips, in the semblance of a pout that was pleasant enough to +see. Suddenly the rattle of hoofs and wheels struck her with the sense +of something forgotten, and she put down her work quickly and stood up +listening. The sound of rough voices and her father's querulous accents +was broken upon by a cultivated and more familiar utterance: "All right; +I'll speak to her at once. Wait there," and the door opened to the +well-known physician of Burnt Ridge, Dr. Duchesne. + +"Look here," he said, with an abruptness that was only saved from being +brusque by a softer intonation and a reassuring smile, "I met Miguel +helping an accident into your buggy. Your orders, eh?" + +"Oh, yes," said Josephine, quietly. "A man I saw on the road." + +"Well, it's a bad case, and wants prompt attention. And as your house is +the nearest I came with him here." + +"Certainly," she said gravely. "Take him to the second room +beyond--Steve's room--it's ready," she explained to two dusky shadows in +the hall behind the doctor. + +"And look here," said the doctor, partly closing the door behind him +and regarding her with critical eyes, "you always said you'd like to see +some of my queer cases. Well, this is one--a serious one, too; in fact, +it's just touch and go with him. There's a piece of the bone pressing +on the brain no bigger than that, but as much as if all Burnt Ridge was +atop of him! I'm going to lift it. I want somebody here to stand by, +some one who can lend a hand with a sponge, eh?--some one who isn't +going to faint or scream, or even shake a hair's-breadth, eh?" + +The color rose quickly to the girl's cheek, and her eyes kindled. "I'll +come," she said thoughtfully. "Who is he?" + +The doctor stared slightly at the unessential query. "Don't know,--one +of the river miners, I reckon. It's an urgent case. I'll go and get +everything ready. You'd better," he added, with an ominous glance at +her gray frock, "put something over your dress." The suggestion made her +grave, but did not alter her color. + +A moment later she entered the room. It was the one that had always been +set apart for her brother: the very bed on which the unconscious man +lay had been arranged that morning with her own hands. Something of +this passed through her mind as she saw that the doctor had wheeled it +beneath the strong light in the centre of the room, stripped its +outer coverings with professional thoughtfulness, and rearranged the +mattresses. But it did not seem like the same room. There was a pungent +odor in the air from some freshly-opened phial; an almost feminine +neatness and luxury in an open morocco case like a jewel box on the +table, shining with spotless steel. At the head of the bed one of her +own servants, the powerful mill foreman, was assisting with the +mingled curiosity and blase experience of one accustomed to smashed and +lacerated digits. At first she did not look at the central unconscious +figure on the bed, whose sufferings seemed to her to have been +vicariously transferred to the concerned, eager, and drawn faces that +looked down upon its immunity. Then she femininely recoiled before the +bared white neck and shoulders displayed above the quilt, until, forcing +herself to look upon the face half-concealed by bandages and the head +from which the dark tangles of hair had been ruthlessly sheared, she +began to share the doctor's unconcern in his personality. What mattered +who or what HE was? It was--a case! + +The operation began. With the same earnest intelligence that she had +previously shown, she quickly and noiselessly obeyed the doctor's +whispered orders, and even half anticipated them. She was conscious of a +singular curiosity that, far from being mean or ignoble, seemed to lift +her not only above the ordinary weaknesses of her own sex, but made her +superior to the men around her. Almost before she knew it, the operation +was over, and she regarded with equal curiosity the ostentatious +solicitude with which the doctor seemed to be wiping his fateful +instrument that bore an odd resemblance to a silver-handled centre-bit. +The stertorous breathing below the bandages had given way to a fainter +but more natural respiration. There was a moment of suspense. The +doctor's hand left the pulse and lifted the closed eyelid of the +sufferer. A slight movement passed over the figure. The sluggish face +had cleared; life seemed to struggle back into it before even the dull +eyes participated in the glow. Dr. Duchesne with a sudden gesture waved +aside his companions, but not before Josephine had bent her head eagerly +forward. + +"He is coming to," she said. + +At the sound of that deep clear voice--the first to break the hush of +the room--the dull eyes leaped up, and the head turned in its direction. +The lips moved and uttered a single rapid sentence. The girl recoiled. + +"You're all right now," said the doctor, cheerfully, intent only upon +the form before him. + +The lips moved again, but this time feebly and vacantly; the eyes were +staring vaguely around. + +"What's matter? What's all about?" said the man, thickly. + +"You've had a fall. Think a moment. Where do you live?" + +Again the lips moved, but this time only to emit a confused, incoherent +murmur. Dr. Duchesne looked grave, but recovered himself quickly. + +"That will do. Leave him alone now," he said brusquely to the others. + +But Josephine lingered. + +"He spoke well enough just now," she said eagerly. "Did you hear what he +said?" + +"Not exactly," said the doctor, abstractedly, gazing at the man. + +"He said, 'You'll have to kill me first,'" said Josephine, slowly. + +"Humph;" said the doctor, passing his hand backwards and forwards before +the man's eyes to note any change in the staring pupils. + +"Yes," continued Josephine, gravely. "I suppose," she added, cautiously, +"he was thinking of the operation--of what you had just done to him?" + +"What I had done to him? Oh, yes!" + + +CHAPTER II + + +Before noon the next day it was known throughout Burnt Ridge Valley that +Dr. Duchesne had performed a difficult operation upon an unknown man, +who had been picked up unconscious from a fall, and carried to Burnt +Ridge Ranch. But although the unfortunate man's life was saved by the +operation, he had only momentarily recovered consciousness--relapsing +into a semi-idiotic state, which effectively stopped the discovery +of any clue to his friends or his identity. As it was evidently an +ACCIDENT, which, in that rude community--and even in some more civilized +ones--conveyed a vague impression of some contributary incapacity on the +part of the victim, or some Providential interference of a retributive +character, Burnt Ridge gave itself little trouble about it. It is +unnecessary to say that Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth gave themselves and +Josephine much more. They had a theory and a grievance. Satisfied from +the first that the alleged victim was a drunken tramp, who submitted to +have a hole bored in his head in order to foist himself upon the ranch, +they were loud in their protests, even hinting at a conspiracy between +Josephine and the stranger to supplant her brother in the property, as +he had already in the spare bedroom. "Didn't all that yer happen THE +VERY NIGHT she pretended to go for Stephen--eh?" said Mrs. Forsyth. +"Tell me that! And didn't she have it all arranged with the buggy +to bring him here, as that sneaking doctor let out--eh? Looks mighty +curious, don't it?" she muttered darkly to the old man. But although +that gentleman, even from his own selfish view, would scarcely have +submitted to a surgical operation and later idiocy as the price of +insuring comfortable dependency, he had no doubt others were base enough +to do it; and lent a willing ear to his wife's suspicions. + +Josephine's personal knowledge of the stranger went little further. +Doctor Duchesne had confessed to her his professional disappointment at +the incomplete results of the operation. He had saved the man's life, +but as yet not his reason. There was still hope, however, for the +diagnosis revealed nothing that might prejudice a favorable progress. It +was a most interesting case. He would watch it carefully, and as soon +as the patient could be removed would take him to the county hospital, +where, under his own eyes, the poor fellow would have the benefit of +the latest science and the highest specialists. Physically, he was doing +remarkably well; indeed, he must have been a fine young chap, free from +blood taint or vicious complication, whose flesh had healed like an +infant's. It should be recorded that it was at this juncture that Mrs. +Forsyth first learnt that a SILVER PLATE let into the artful stranger's +skull was an adjunct of the healing process! Convinced that this +infamous extravagance was part and parcel of the conspiracy, and was +only the beginning of other assimilations of the Forsyths' metallic +substance; that the plate was probably polished and burnished with +a fulsome inscription to the doctor's skill, and would pass into the +possession and adornment of a perfect stranger, her rage knew no bounds. +He or his friends ought to be made to pay for it or work it out! In vain +it was declared that a few dollars were all that was found in the man's +pocket, and that no memoranda gave any indication of his name, friends, +or history beyond the suggestion that he came from a distance. This was +clearly a part of the conspiracy! Even Josephine's practical good +sense was obliged to take note of this singular absence of all record +regarding him, and the apparent obliteration of everything that might be +responsible for his ultimate fate. + +Homeless, friendless, helpless, and even nameless, the unfortunate man +of twenty-five was thus left to the tender mercies of the mistress of +Burnt Ridge Ranch, as if he had been a new-born foundling laid at her +door. But this mere claim of weakness was not all; it was supplemented +by a singular personal appeal to Josephine's nature. From the time that +he turned his head towards her voice on that fateful night, his eyes had +always followed her around the room with a wondering, yearning, canine +half-intelligence. Without being able to convince herself that he +understood her better than his regular attendant furnished by the +doctor, she could not fail to see that he obeyed her implicitly, and +that whenever any difficulty arose between him and his nurse she was +always appealed to. Her pride in this proof of her practical sovereignty +WAS flattered; and when Doctor Duchesne finally admitted that although +the patient was now physically able to be removed to the hospital, yet +he would lose in the change that very strong factor which Josephine had +become in his mental recovery, the young girl as frankly suggested that +he should stay as long as there was any hope of restoring his reason. +Doctor Duchesne was delighted. With all his enthusiasm for science, he +had a professional distrust of some of its disciples, and perhaps was +not sorry to keep this most interesting case in his own hands. To +him her suggestion was only a womanly kindness, tempered with womanly +curiosity. But the astonishment and stupefaction of her parents at this +evident corroboration of suspicions they had as yet only half believed +was tinged with superstitious dread. Had she fallen in love with this +helpless stranger? or, more awful to contemplate, was he really no +stranger, but a surreptitious lover thus strategically brought under her +roof? For once they refrained from open criticism. The very magnitude of +their suspicions left them dumb. + +It was thus that the virgin Chatelaine of Burnt Ridge Ranch was left to +gaze untrammeled upon her pale and handsome guest, whose silken, +bearded lips and sad, childlike eyes might have suggested a more Exalted +Sufferer in their absence of any suggestion of a grosser material +manhood. But even this imaginative appeal did not enter into her +feelings. She felt for her good-looking, helpless patient a profound +and honest pity. I do not know whether she had ever heard that "pity was +akin to love." She would probably have resented that utterly untenable +and atrocious commonplace. There was no suggestion, real or illusive, +of any previous masterful quality in the man which might have made his +present dependent condition picturesque by contrast. He had come to her +handicapped by an unromantic accident and a practical want of energy and +intellect. He would have to touch her interest anew if, indeed, he +would ever succeed in dispelling the old impression. His beauty, in a +community of picturesquely handsome men, had little weight with her, +except to accent the contrast with their fuller manhood. + +Her life had given her no illusions in regard to the other sex. She had +found them, however, more congenial and safer companions than women, and +more accessible to her own sense of justice and honor. In return, they +had respected and admired rather than loved her, in spite of her womanly +graces. If she had at times contemplated eventual marriage, it was only +as a possible practical partnership in her business; but as she lived in +a country where men thought it dishonorable and a proof of incompetency +to rise by their wives' superior fortune, she had been free from that +kind of mercenary persecution, even from men who might have worshiped +her in hopeless and silent honor. + +For this reason, there was nothing in the situation that suggested +a single compromising speculation in the minds of the neighbors, or +disturbed her own tranquillity. There seemed to be nothing in the future +except a possible relief to her curiosity. Some day the unfortunate +man's reason would be restored, and he would tell his simple history. +Perhaps he might explain what was in his mind when he turned to her +the first evening with that singular sentence which had often recurred +strangely to her, she knew not why. It did not strike her until later +that it was because it had been the solitary indication of an energy and +capacity that seemed unlike him. Nevertheless, after that explanation, +she would have been quite willing to have shaken hands with him and +parted. + +And yet--for there was an unexpressed remainder in her thought--she +was never entirely free or uninfluenced in his presence. The flickering +vacancy of his sad eyes sometimes became fixed with a resolute +immobility under the gentle questioning with which she had sought to +draw out his faculties, that both piqued and exasperated her. He could +say "Yes" and "No," as she thought intelligently, but he could not utter +a coherent sentence nor write a word, except like a child in imitation +of his copy. She taught him to repeat after her the names of the +inanimate objects in the room, then the names of the doctor, his +attendant, the servant, and, finally, her own under her Christian +prenomen, with frontier familiarity; but when she pointed to himself he +waited for HER to name him! In vain she tried him with all the masculine +names she knew; his was not one of them, or he would not or could not +speak it. For at times she rejected the professional dictum of the +doctor that the faculty of memory was wholly paralyzed or held in +abeyance, even to the half-automatic recollection of his letters, yet +she inconsistently began to teach him the alphabet with the same method, +and--in her sublime unconsciousness of his manhood--with the +same discipline as if he were a very child. When he had recovered +sufficiently to leave his room, she would lead him to the porch before +her window, and make him contented and happy by allowing him to watch +her at work at her desk, occasionally answering his wondering eyes with +a word, or stirring his faculties with a question. I grieve to say +that her parents had taken advantage of this publicity and his supposed +helpless condition to show their disgust of his assumption, to the +extreme of making faces at him--an act which he resented with such a +furious glare that they retreated hurriedly to their own veranda. A +fresh though somewhat inconsistent grievance was added to their previous +indictment of him: "If we ain't found dead in our bed with our throats +cut by that woman's crazy husband" (they had settled by this time that +there had been a clandestine marriage), "we'll be lucky," groaned Mrs. +Forsyth. + +Meantime, the mountain summer waxed to its fullness of fire and +fruition. There were days when the crowded forest seemed choked and +impeded with its own foliage, and pungent and stifling with its own +rank maturity; when the long hillside ranks of wild oats, thickset and +impassable, filled the air with the heated dust of germination. In this +quickening irritation of life it would be strange if the unfortunate +man's torpid intellect was not helped in its awakening, and he was +allowed to ramble at will over the ranch; but with the instinct of a +domestic animal he always returned to the house, and sat in the porch, +where Josephine usually found him awaiting her when she herself returned +from a visit to the mill. Coming thence one day she espied him on the +mountain-side leaning against a projecting ledge in an attitude so rapt +and immovable that she felt compelled to approach him. He appeared to +be dumbly absorbed in the prospect, which might have intoxicated a saner +mind. + +Half veiled by the heat that rose quiveringly from the fiery canyon +below, the domain of Burnt Ridge stretched away before him, until, +lifted in successive terraces hearsed and plumed with pines, it was at +last lost in the ghostly snow-peaks. But the practical Josephine seized +the opportunity to try once more to awaken the slumbering memory of her +pupil. Following his gaze with signs and questions, she sought to draw +from him some indication of familiar recollection of certain points of +the map thus unrolled behind him. But in vain. She even pointed out the +fateful shadow of the overhanging ledge on the road where she had picked +him up--there was no response in his abstracted eyes. She bit her lips; +she was becoming irritated again. Then it occurred to her that, instead +of appealing to his hopeless memory, she had better trust to some +unreflective automatic instinct independent of it, and she put the +question a little forward: "When you leave us, where will you go from +here?" He stirred slightly, and turned towards her. She repeated her +query slowly and patiently, with signs and gestures recognized between +them. A faint glow of intelligence struggled into his eyes: he lifted +his arm slowly, and pointed. + +"Ah! those white peaks--the Sierras?" she asked, eagerly. No reply. +"Beyond them?" + +"Yes." + +"The States?" No reply. "Further still?" + +He remained so patiently quiet and still pointing that she leaned +forward, and, following with her eyes the direction of his hand, saw +that he was pointing to the sky! + +Then a great quiet fell upon them. The whole mountain-side seemed to her +to be hushed, as if to allow her to grasp and realize for the first time +the pathos of the ruined life at her side, which IT had known so long, +but which she had never felt till now. The tears came to her eyes; in +her swift revulsion of feeling she caught the thin uplifted hand between +her own. It seemed to her that he was about to raise them to his lips, +but she withdrew them hastily, and moved away. She had a strange fear +that if he had kissed them, it might seem as if some dumb animal had +touched them--or--IT MIGHT NOT. The next day she felt a consciousness +of this in his presence, and a wish that he was well-cured and away. She +determined to consult Dr. Duchesne on the subject when he next called. + +But the doctor, secure in the welfare of his patient, had not visited +him lately, and she found herself presently absorbed in the business of +the ranch, which at this season was particularly trying. There had also +been a quarrel between Dick Shipley, her mill foreman, and Miguel, her +ablest and most trusted vaquero, and in her strict sense of impartial +justice she was obliged to side on the merits of the case with Shipley +against her oldest retainer. This troubled her, as she knew that with +the Mexican nature, fidelity and loyalty were not unmixed with quick and +unreasoning jealousy. For this reason she was somewhat watchful of the +two men when work was over, and there was a chance of their being +thrown together. Once or twice she had remained up late to meet Miguel +returning from the posada at San Ramon, filled with aguardiente and a +recollection of his wrongs, and to see him safely bestowed before she +herself retired. It was on one of those occasions, however, that she +learned that Dick Shipley, hearing that Miguel had disparaged him freely +at the posada, had broken the discipline of the ranch, and absented +himself the same night that Miguel "had leave," with a view of facing +his antagonist on his own ground. To prevent this, the fearless girl at +once secretly set out alone to overtake and bring back the delinquent. + +For two or three hours the house was thus left to the sole occupancy of +Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth and the invalid--a fact only dimly suspected by the +latter, who had become vaguely conscious of Josephine's anxiety, and had +noticed the absence of light and movement in her room. For this reason, +therefore, having risen again and mechanically taken his seat in the +porch to await her return, he was startled by hearing HER voice in the +shadow of the lower porch, accompanied by a hurried tapping against the +door of the old couple. The half-reasoning man arose, and would have +moved towards it, but suddenly he stopped rigidly, with white and parted +lips and vacantly distended eyeballs. + +Meantime the voice and muffled tapping had brought the tremulous fingers +of old Forsyth to the door-latch. He opened the door partly; a slight +figure that had been lurking in the shadow of the porch pushed rapidly +through the opening. There was a faint outcry quickly hushed, and the +door closed again. The rays of a single candle showed the two old people +hysterically clasping in their arms the figure that had entered--a +slight but vicious-looking young fellow of five-and-twenty. + +"There, d--n it!" he said impatiently, in a voice whose rich depth was +like Josephine's, but whose querulous action was that of the two old +people before him, "let me go, and quit that, I didn't come here to be +strangled! I want some money--money, you hear! Devilish quick, too, for +I've got to be off again before daylight. So look sharp, will you?" + +"But, Stevy dear, when you didn't come that time three months ago, but +wrote from Los Angeles, you said you'd made a strike at last, and"-- + +"What are you talking about?" he interrupted violently. "That was just +my lyin' to keep you from worryin' me. Three months ago--three months +ago! Why, you must have been crazy to have swallowed it; I hadn't a +cent." + +"Nor have we," said the old woman, shrilly. "That hellish sister of +yours still keeps us like beggars. Our only hope was you, our own boy. +And now you only come to--to go again." + +"But SHE has money; SHE'S doing well, and SHE shall give it to me," +he went on, angrily. "She can't bully me with her business airs and +morality. Who else has got a right to share, if it is not her own +brother?" + +Alas for the fatuousness of human malevolence! Had the unhappy couple +related only the simple facts they knew about the new guest of Burnt +Ridge Ranch, and the manner of his introduction, they might have spared +what followed. + +But the old woman broke into a vindictive cry: "Who else, Steve--who +else? Why, the slut has brought a MAN here--a sneaking, deceitful, +underhanded, crazy lover!" + +"Oh, has she?" said the young man, fiercely, yet secretly pleased at +this promising evidence of his sister's human weakness. "Where is she? +I'll go to her. She's in her room, I suppose," and before they could +restrain him, he had thrown off their impeding embraces and darted +across the hall. + +The two old people stared doubtfully at each other. For even this +powerful ally, whose strength, however, they were by no means sure +of, might succumb before the determined Josephine! Prudence demanded a +middle course. "Ain't they brother and sister?" said the old man, with +an air of virtuous toleration. "Let 'em fight it out." + +The young man impatiently entered the room he remembered to have been +his sister's. By the light of the moon that streamed upon the window +he could see she was not there. He passed hurriedly to the door of her +bedroom; it was open; the room was empty, the bed unturned. She was not +in the house--she had gone to the mill. Ah! What was that they had said? +An infamous thought passed through the scoundrel's mind. Then, in what +he half believed was an access of virtuous fury, he began by the dim +light to rummage in the drawers of the desk for such loose coin or +valuables as, in the perfect security of the ranch, were often left +unguarded. Suddenly he heard a heavy footstep on the threshold, and +turned. + +An awful vision--a recollection, so unexpected, so ghostlike in that +weird light that he thought he was losing his senses--stood before him. +It moved forwards with staring eyeballs and white and open lips from +which a horrible inarticulate sound issued that was the speech of no +living man! With a single desperate, almost superhuman effort Stephen +Forsyth bounded aside, leaped from the window, and ran like a madman +from the house. Then the apparition trembled, collapsed, and sank in an +undistinguishable heap to the ground. + +When Josephine Forsyth returned an hour later with her mill foreman, she +was startled to find her helpless patient in a fit on the floor of her +room. With the assistance of her now converted and penitent employee, +she had the unfortunate man conveyed to his room--but not until she had +thoughtfully rearranged the disorder of her desk and closed the open +drawers without attracting Dick Shipley's attention. In the morning, +hearing that the patient was still in the semiconscious exhaustion of +his late attack, but without seeing him, she sent for Dr. Duchesne. The +doctor arrived while she was absent at the mill, where, after a careful +examination of his patient, he sought her with some little excitement. + +"Well?" she said, with eager gravity. + +"Well, it looks as if your wish would be gratified. Your friend has +had an epileptic fit, but the physical shock has started his mental +machinery again. He has recovered his faculties; his memory is +returning: he thinks and speaks coherently; he is as sane as you and I." + +"And"--said Josephine, questioning the doctor's knitted eyebrows. + +"I am not yet sure whether it was the result of some shock he doesn't +remember; or an irritation of the brain, which would indicate that the +operation had not been successful and that there was still some physical +pressure or obstruction there--in which case he would be subject to +these attacks all his life." + +"Do you think his reason came before the fit or after?" asked the girl, +anxiously. + +"I couldn't say. Had anything happened?" + +"I was away, and found him on the floor on my return," she answered, +half uneasily. After a pause she said, "Then he has told you his name +and all about himself?" + +"Yes, it's nothing at all! He was a stranger just arrived from the +States, going to the mines--the old story; had no near relations, of +course; wasn't missed or asked after; remembers walking along the ridge +and falling over; name, John Baxter, of Maine." He paused, and relaxing +into a slight smile, added, "I haven't spoiled your romance, have I?" + +"No," she said, with an answering smile. Then as the doctor walked +briskly away she slightly knitted her pretty brows, hung her head, +patted the ground with her little foot beyond the hem of her gown, and +said to herself, "The man was lying to him." + + +CHAPTER III + + +On her return to the house, Josephine apparently contented herself with +receiving the bulletin of the stranger's condition from the servant, for +she did not enter his room. She had obtained no theory of last night's +incident from her parents, who, beyond a querulous agitation that was +quickened by the news of his return to reason, refrained from even that +insidious comment which she half feared would follow. When another +day passed without her seeing him, she nevertheless was conscious of a +little embarrassment when his attendant brought her the request that +she would give him a moment's speech in the porch, whither he had been +removed. + +She found him physically weaker; indeed, so much so that she was fain, +even in her embarrassment, to assist him back to the bench from which +he had ceremoniously risen. But she was so struck with the change in +his face and manner, a change so virile and masterful, in spite of its +gentle sadness of manner, that she recoiled with a slight timidity as if +he had been a stranger, although she was also conscious that he seemed +to be more at his ease than she was. He began in a low exhausted voice, +but before he had finished his first sentence, she felt herself in the +presence of a superior. + +"My thanks come very late, Miss Forsyth," he said, with a faint smile, +"but no one knows better than yourself the reason why, or can better +understand that they mean that the burden you have so generously taken +on yourself is about to be lifted. I know all, Miss Forsyth. Since +yesterday I have learned how much I owe you, even my life I believe, +though I am afraid I must tell you in the same breath that THAT is of +little worth to any one. You have kindly helped and interested yourself +in a poor stranger who turns out to be a nobody, without friends, +without romance, and without even mystery. You found me lying in the +road down yonder, after a stupid accident that might have happened to +any other careless tramp, and which scarcely gave me a claim to a bed +in the county hospital, much less under this kindly roof. It was not my +fault, as you know, that all this did not come out sooner; but while it +doesn't lessen your generosity, it doesn't lessen my debt, and although +I cannot hope to ever repay you, I can at least keep the score from +running on. Pardon my speaking so bluntly, but my excuse for speaking at +all was to say 'Good-by' and 'God bless you.' Dr. Duchesne has promised +to give me a lift on my way in his buggy when he goes." + +There was a slight touch of consciousness in his voice in spite of its +sadness, which struck the young girl as a weak and even ungentlemanly +note in his otherwise self-abnegating and undemonstrative attitude. If +he was a common tramp, he wouldn't talk in that way, and if he wasn't, +why did he lie? Her practical good sense here asserted itself. + +"But you are far from strong yet; in fact, the doctor says you might +have a relapse at any moment, and you have--that is, you SEEM to have no +money," she said gravely. + +"That's true," he said, quickly. "I remember I was quite played out when +I entered the settlement, and I think I had parted from even some little +trifles I carried with me. I am afraid I was a poor find to those who +picked me up, and you ought to have taken warning. But the doctor has +offered to lend me enough to take me to San Francisco, if only to give a +fair trial to the machine he has set once more a-going." + +"Then you have friends in San Francisco?" said the young girl quickly. +"Those who know you? Why not write to them first, and tell them you are +here?" + +"I don't think your postmaster here would be preoccupied with letters +for John Baxter, if I did," he said, quietly. "But here is the doctor +waiting. Good-by." + +He stood looking at her in a peculiar, yet half-resigned way, and held +out his hand. For a moment she hesitated. Had he been less independent +and strong, she would have refused to let him go--have offered him +some slight employment at the ranch; for oddly enough, in spite of the +suspicion that he was concealing something, she felt that she would have +trusted him, and he would have been a help to her. But he was not only +determined, but SHE was all the time conscious that he was a totally +different man from the one she had taken care of, and merely ordinary +prudence demanded that she should know something more of him first. She +gave him her hand constrainedly; he pressed it warmly. + +Dr. Duchesne drove up, helped him into the buggy, smiled a good-natured +but half-perfunctory assurance that he would look after "her patient," +and drove away. + +The whole thing was over, but so unexpectedly, so suddenly, so +unromantically, so unsatisfactorily, that, although her common sense +told her that it was perfectly natural, proper, business-like, and +reasonable, and, above all, final and complete, she did not know whether +to laugh or be angry. Yet this was her parting from the man who had but +a few days ago moved her to tears with a single hopeless gesture. +Well, this would teach her what to expect. Well, what had she expected? +Nothing! + +Yet for the rest of the day she was unreasonably irritable, and, if the +conjointure be not paradoxical, severely practical, and inhumanly +just. Falling foul of some presumption of Miguel's, based upon his +prescriptive rights through long service on the estate, with the +recollection of her severity towards his antagonist in her mind, she +rated that trusted retainer with such pitiless equity and unfeminine +logic that his hot Latin blood chilled in his veins, and he stood livid +on the road. Then, informing Dick Shipley with equally relentless calm +that she might feel it necessary to change ALL her foremen unless +they could agree in harmony, she sought the dignified seclusion of +her castle. But her respected parents, whose triumphant relief at the +stranger's departure had emboldened them to await her return in their +porch with bended bows of invective and lifted javelins of aggression, +recoiled before the resistless helm of this cold-browed Minerva, who +galloped contemptuously past them. + +Nevertheless, she sat late that night at her desk. The cold moon looked +down upon her window, and lit up the empty porch where her silent guest +had mutely watched her. For a moment she regretted that he had recovered +his reason, excusing herself on the practical ground that he would never +have known his dependence, and he would have been better cared for +by her. She felt restless and uneasy. This slight divergence from the +practical groove in which her life had been set had disturbed her in +many other things, and given her the first views of the narrowness of +it. + +Suddenly she heard a step in the porch. The lateness of the hour, +perhaps some other reason, seemed to startle her, and she half rose. +The next moment the figure of Miguel appeared at the doorway, and with +a quick, hurried look around him, and at the open window, he approached +her. He was evidently under great excitement, his hollow shaven +cheek looked like a waxen effigy in the mission church; his yellow, +tobacco-stained eye glittered like phosphorescent amber, his lank +gray hair was damp and perspiring; but more striking than this was the +evident restraint he had put upon himself, pressing his broad-brimmed +sombrero with both of his trembling yellow hands against his breast. The +young girl cast a hurried glance at the open window and at the gun which +stood in the corner, and then confronted him with clear and steady eyes, +but a paler cheek. + +Ah, he began in Spanish, which he himself had taught her as a child, +it was a strange thing, his coming there to-night; but, then, mother of +God! it was a strange, a terrible thing that she had done to him--old +Miguel, her uncle's servant: he that had known her as a muchacha; he +that had lived all his life at the ranch--ay, and whose fathers before +him had lived there all THEIR lives and driven the cattle over the very +spot where she now stood, before the thieving Americans came here! But +he would be calm; yes, the senora should find him calm, even as she +was when she told him to go. He would not speak. No, he--Miguel--would +contain himself; yes, he HAD mastered himself, but could he restrain +others? Ah, yes, OTHERS--that was it. Could he keep Manuel and Pepe and +Dominguez from talking to the milkman--that leaking sieve, that gabbling +brute of a Shipley, for whose sake she had cast off her old servant that +very day? + +She looked at him with cold astonishment, but without fear. Was he drunk +with aguardiente, or had his jealousy turned his brain? He continued +gasping, but still pressing his hat against his breast. + +Ah, he saw it all! Yes, it was to-day, the day he left. Yes, she had +thought it safe to cast Miguel off now--now that HE was gone! + +Without in the least understanding him, the color had leaped to her +cheek, and the consciousness of it made her furious. + +"How dare you?" she said, passionately. "What has that stranger to do +with my affairs or your insolence?" + +He stopped and gazed at her with a certain admiring loyalty. "Ah! so," +he said, with a deep breath, "the senora is the niece of her uncle. She +does well not to fear HIM--a dog,"--with a slight shrug,--"who is more +than repaid by the senora's condescension. HE dare not speak!" + +"Who dare not speak? Are you mad?" She stopped with a sudden terrible +instinct of apprehension. "Miguel," she said in her deepest voice, +"answer me, I command you! Do you know anything of this man?" + +It was Miguel's turn to recoil from his mistress. "Ah, my God! is it +possible the senora has not suspect?" + +"Suspect!" said Josephine, haughtily, albeit her proud heart was beating +quickly. "I SUSPECT nothing. I command you to tell me what you KNOW." + +Miguel turned with a rapid gesture and closed the door. Then, drawing +her away from the window, he said in a hurried whisper,-- + +"I know that that man has not the name of Baxter! I know that he has +the name of Randolph, a young gambler, who have won a large sum at +Sacramento, and, fearing to be robbed by those he won of, have walk +to himself through the road in disguise of a miner. I know that your +brother Esteban have decoyed him here, and have fallen on him." + +"Stop!" said the young girl, her eyes, which had been fixed with the +agony of conviction, suddenly flashing with the energy of despair. "And +you call yourself the servant of my uncle, and dare say this of his +nephew?" + +"Yes, senora," broke out the old man, passionately. "It is because I am +the servant of your uncle that I, and I ALONE, dare say it to you! It +is because I perjured my soul, and have perjured my soul to deny it +elsewhere, that I now dare to say it! It is because I, your servant, +knew it from one of my countrymen, who was of the gang,--because I, +Miguel, knew that your brother was not far away that night, and because +I, whom you would dismiss, have picked up this pocket-book of Randolph's +and your brother's ring which he have dropped, and I have found beneath +the body of the man you sent me to fetch." + +He drew a packet from his bosom, and tossed it on the desk before her. + +"And why have you not told me this before?" said Josephine, +passionately. + +Miguel shrugged his shoulders. + +"What good? Possibly this dog Randolph would die. Possibly he would +live--as a lunatic. Possibly would happen what has happened! The senora +is beautiful. The American has eyes. If the Dona Josephine's beauty +shall finish what the silly Don Esteban's arm have begun--what matter?" + +"Stop!" cried Josephine, pressing her hands across her shuddering eyes. +Then, uncovering her white and set face, she said rapidly, "Saddle my +horse and your own at once. Then take your choice! Come with me and +repeat all that you have said in the presence of that man, or leave this +ranch forever. For if I live I shall go to him tonight, and tell the +whole story." + +The old man cast a single glance at his mistress, shrugged his +shoulders, and, without a word, left the room. But in ten minutes they +were on their way to the county town. + +Day was breaking over the distant Burnt Ridge--a faint, ghostly level, +like a funeral pall, in the dim horizon--as they drew up before the +gaunt, white-painted pile of the hospital building. Josephine uttered +a cry. Dr. Duchesne's buggy was before the door. On its very threshold +they met the doctor, dark and irritated. "Then you heard the news?" he +said, quickly. + +Josephine turned her white face to the doctor's. "What news?" she asked, +in a voice that seemed strangely deep and resonant. + +"The poor fellow had another attack last night, and died of exhaustion +about an hour ago. I was too late to save him." + +"Did he say anything? Was he conscious?" asked the girl, hoarsely. + +"No; incoherent! Now I think of it, he harped on the same string as he +did the night of the operation. What was it he said? you remember." + +"'You'll have to kill me first,'" repeated Josephine, in a choking +voice. + +"Yes; something about his dying before he'd tell. Well, he came back to +it before he went off--they often do. You seem a little hoarse with your +morning ride. You should take care of that voice of yours. By the way, +it's a good deal like your brother's." + +***** + +The Chatelaine of Burnt Ridge never married. + + + + +THROUGH THE SANTA CLARA WHEAT + + +CHAPTER I + + +It was an enormous wheat-field in the Santa Clara valley, stretching to +the horizon line unbroken. The meridian sun shone upon it without glint +or shadow; but at times, when a stronger gust of the trade winds passed +over it, there was a quick slanting impression of the whole surface that +was, however, as unlike a billow as itself was unlike a sea. Even when +a lighter zephyr played down its long level, the agitation was +superficial, and seemed only to momentarily lift a veil of greenish +mist that hung above its immovable depths. Occasional puffs of dust +alternately rose and fell along an imaginary line across the field, +as if a current of air were passing through it, but were otherwise +inexplicable. + +Suddenly a faint shout, apparently somewhere in the vicinity of the +line, brought out a perfectly clear response, followed by the audible +murmur of voices, which it was impossible to localize. Yet the whole +field was so devoid of any suggestion of human life or motion that +it seemed rather as if the vast expanse itself had become suddenly +articulate and intelligible. + +"Wot say?" + +"Wheel off." + +"Whare?" + +"In the road." + +One of the voices here indicated itself in the direction of the line of +dust, and said, "Comin'," and a man stepped out from the wheat into a +broad and dusty avenue. + +With his presence three things became apparent. + +First, that the puffs of dust indicated the existence of the invisible +avenue through the unlimited and unfenced field of grain; secondly, that +the stalks of wheat on either side of it were so tall as to actually +hide a passing vehicle; and thirdly, that a vehicle had just passed, had +lost a wheel, and been dragged partly into the grain by its frightened +horse, which a dusty man was trying to restrain and pacify. + +The horse, given up to equine hysterics, and evidently convinced that +the ordinary buggy behind him had been changed into some dangerous and +appalling creation, still plunged and kicked violently to rid himself +of it. The man who had stepped out of the depths of the wheat quickly +crossed the road, unhitched the traces, drew back the vehicle, and, +glancing at the traveler's dusty and disordered clothes, said, with curt +sympathy:-- + +"Spilt, too; but not hurt, eh?" + +"No, neither of us. I went over with the buggy when the wheel cramped, +but SHE jumped clear." + +He made a gesture indicating the presence of another. The man turned +quickly. There was a second figure, a young girl standing beside the +grain from which he had emerged, embracing a few stalks of wheat with +one arm and a hand in which she still held her parasol, while she +grasped her gathered skirts with the other, and trying to find a secure +foothold for her two neat narrow slippers on a crumbling cake of adobe +above the fathomless dust of the roadway. Her face, although annoyed +and discontented, was pretty, and her light dress and slim figure were +suggestive of a certain superior condition. + +The man's manner at once softened with Western courtesy. He swung +his broad-brimmed hat from his head, and bent his body with the +ceremoniousness of the country ball-room. "I reckon the lady had better +come up to the shanty out o' the dust and sun till we kin help you get +these things fixed," he said to the driver. "I'll send round by the road +for your hoss, and have one of mine fetch up your wagon." + +"Is it far?" asked the girl, slightly acknowledging his salutation, +without waiting for her companion to reply. + +"Only a step this way," he answered, motioning to the field of wheat +beside her. + +"What in THERE? I never could go in there," she said, decidedly. + +"It's a heap shorter than by the road, and not so dusty. I'll go with +you, and pilot you." + +The young girl cast a vexed look at her companion as the probable cause +of all this trouble, and shook her head. But at the same moment one +little foot slipped from the adobe into the dust again. She instantly +clambered back with a little feminine shriek, and ejaculated: "Well, +of all things!" and then, fixing her blue annoyed eyes on the stranger, +asked impatiently, "Why couldn't I go there by the road 'n the wagon? I +could manage to hold on and keep in." + +"Because I reckon you'd find it too pow'ful hot waitin' here till we got +round to ye." + +There was no doubt it was very hot; the radiation from the baking +roadway beating up under her parasol, and pricking her cheekbones and +eyeballs like needles. She gave a fastidious little shudder, furled her +parasol, gathered her skirts still tighter, faced about, and said, "Go +on, then." The man slipped backwards into the ranks of stalks, parting +them with one hand, and holding out the other as if to lead her. But +she evaded the invitation by holding her tightly-drawn skirt with both +hands, and bending her head forward as if she had not noticed it. The +next moment the road, and even the whole outer world, disappeared behind +them, and they seemed floating in a choking green translucent mist. + +But the effect was only momentary; a few steps further she found that +she could walk with little difficulty between the ranks of stalks, which +were regularly spaced, and the resemblance now changed to that of a long +pillared conservatory of greenish glass, that touched all objects with +its pervading hue. She also found that the close air above her head +was continually freshened by the interchange of currents of lower +temperature from below,--as if the whole vast field had a circulation of +its own,--and that the adobe beneath her feet was gratefully cool to +her tread. There was no dust, as he had said; what had at first half +suffocated her seemed to be some stimulating aroma of creation that +filled the narrow green aisles, and now imparted a strange vigor and +excitement to her as she walked along. Meantime her guide was not +conversationally idle. Now, no doubt, she had never seen anything like +this before? It was ordinary wheat, only it was grown on adobe soil--the +richest in the valley. These stalks, she could see herself, were ten and +twelve feet high. That was the trouble, they all ran too much to stalk, +though the grain yield was "suthen' pow'ful." She could tell that to +her friends, for he reckoned she was the only young lady that had ever +walked under such a growth. Perhaps she was new to Californy? He thought +so from the start. Well, this was Californy, and this was not the least +of the ways it could "lay over" every other country on God's yearth. +Many folks thought it was the gold and the climate, but she could see +for herself what it could do with wheat. He wondered if her brother had +ever told, her of it? No, the stranger wasn't her brother. Nor cousin, +nor company? No; only the hired driver from a San Jose hotel, who was +takin' her over to Major Randolph's. Yes, he knew the old major; the +ranch was a pretty place, nigh unto three miles further on. Now that he +knew the driver was no relation of hers he didn't mind telling her that +the buggy was a "rather old consarn," and the driver didn't know his +business. Yes, it might be fixed up so as to take her over to the +major's; there was one of their own men--a young fellow--who could do +anything that COULD be done with wood and iron,--a reg'lar genius!--and +HE'D tackle it. It might take an hour, but she'd find it quite cool +waiting in the shanty. It was a rough place, for they only camped out +there during the season to look after the crop, and lived at their own +homes the rest of the time. Was she going to stay long at the major's? +He noticed she had not brought her trunk with her. Had she known the +major's wife long? Perhaps she thought of settling in the neighborhood? + +All this naive, good-humored questioning--so often cruelly misunderstood +as mere vulgar curiosity, but as often the courteous instinct of simple +unaffected people to entertain the stranger by inviting him to talk of +what concerns himself rather than their own selves--was nevertheless, +I fear, met only by monosyllables from the young lady or an impatient +question in return. She scarcely raised her eyes to the broad +jean-shirted back that preceded her through the grain until the +man abruptly ceased talking, and his manner, without losing its +half-paternal courtesy, became graver. She was beginning to be conscious +of her incivility, and was trying to think of something to say, when +he exclaimed with a slight air of relief, "Here we are!" and the shanty +suddenly appeared before them. + +It certainly was very rough--a mere shell of unpainted boards that +scarcely rose above the level of the surrounding grain, and a few yards +distant was invisible. Its slightly sloping roof, already warped and +shrunken into long fissures that permitted glimpses of the steel-blue +sky above, was evidently intended only as a shelter from the cloudless +sun in those two months of rainless days and dewless nights when it was +inhabited. Through the open doors and windows she could see a row of +"bunks," or rude sleeping berths against the walls, furnished with +coarse mattresses and blankets. As the young girl halted, the man +with an instinct of delicacy hurried forward, entered the shanty, and +dragging a rude bench to the doorway, placed it so that she could sit +beneath the shade of the roof, yet with her back to these domestic +revelations. Two or three men, who had been apparently lounging there, +rose quietly, and unobtrusively withdrew. Her guide brought her a tin +cup of deliciously cool water, exchanged a few hurried words with his +companions, and then disappeared with them, leaving her alone. + +Her first sense of relief from their company was, I fear, stronger than +any other feeling. After a hurried glance around the deserted apartment, +she arose, shook out her dress and mantle, and then going into the +darkest corner supported herself with one hand against the wall while +with the other she drew off, one by one, her slippers from her slim, +striped-stockinged feet, shook and blew out the dust that had penetrated +within, and put them on again. Then, perceiving a triangular fragment +of looking-glass nailed against the wall, she settled the strings of her +bonnet by the aid of its reflection, patted the fringe of brown hair on +her forehead with her separated five fingers as if playing an imaginary +tune on her brow, and came back with maidenly abstraction to the +doorway. + +Everything was quiet, and her seclusion seemed unbroken. A smile played +for an instant in the soft shadows of her eyes and mouth as she recalled +the abrupt withdrawal of the men. Then her mouth straightened and her +brows slightly bent. It was certainly very unmannerly in them to go off +in that way. "Good heavens! couldn't they have stayed around without +talking? Surely it didn't require four men to go and bring up that +wagon!" She picked up her parasol from the bench with an impatient +little jerk. Then she held out her ungloved hand into the hot sunshine +beyond the door with the gesture she would have used had it been +raining, and withdrew it as quickly--her hand quite scorched in +the burning rays. Nevertheless, after another impatient pause she +desperately put up her parasol and stepped from the shanty. + +Presently she was conscious of a faint sound of hammering not far away. +Perhaps there was another shed, but hidden, like everything else, in +this monotonous, ridiculous grain. Some stalks, however, were trodden +down and broken around the shanty; she could move more easily and see +where she was going. To her delight, a few steps further brought her +into a current of the trade-wind and a cooler atmosphere. And a short +distance beyond them, certainly, was the shed from which the hammering +proceeded. She approached it boldly. + +It was simply a roof upheld by rude uprights and crossbeams, and open +to the breeze that swept through it. At one end was a small blacksmith's +forge, some machinery, and what appeared to be part of a small +steam-engine. Midway of the shed was a closet or cupboard fastened with +a large padlock. Occupying its whole length on the other side was a +work-bench, and at the further end stood the workman she had heard. + +He was apparently only a year or two older than herself, and clad in +blue jean overalls, blackened and smeared with oil and coal-dust. Even +his youthful face, which he turned towards her, had a black smudge +running across it and almost obliterating a small auburn moustache. The +look of surprise that he gave her, however, quickly passed; he remained +patiently and in a half-preoccupied way, holding his hammer in his +hand, as she advanced. This was evidently the young fellow who could "do +anything that could be done with wood and iron." + +She was very sorry to disturb him, but could he tell her how long it +would be before the wagon could be brought up and mended? He could not +say that until he himself saw what was to be done; if it was only a +matter of the wheel he could fix it up in a few moments; if, as he had +been told, it was a case of twisted or bent axle, it would take longer, +but it would be here very soon. Ah, then, would he let her wait here, as +she was very anxious to know at once, and it was much cooler than in the +shed? Certainly; he would go over and bring her a bench. But here she +begged he wouldn't trouble himself, she could sit anywhere comfortably. + +The lower end of the work-bench was covered with clean and odorous +shavings; she lightly brushed them aside and, with a youthful movement, +swung herself to a seat upon it, supporting herself on one hand as +she leaned towards him. She could thus see that his eyes were of a +light-yellowish brown, like clarified honey, with a singular look of +clear concentration in them, which, however, was the same whether turned +upon his work, the surrounding grain, or upon her. This, and his sublime +unconsciousness of the smudge across his face and his blackened hands, +made her wonder if the man who could do everything with wood and iron +was above doing anything with water. She had half a mind to tell him of +it, particularly as she noticed also that his throat below the line +of sunburn disclosed by his open collar was quite white, and his grimy +hands well made. She was wondering whether he would be affronted if she +said in her politest way, "I beg your pardon, but do you know you +have quite accidentally got something on your face," and offer her +handkerchief, which, of course, he would decline, when her eye fell on +the steam-engine. + +"How odd! Do you use that on the farm?" + +"No,"--he smiled here, the smudge accenting it and setting off his white +teeth in a Christy Minstrel fashion that exasperated her--no, although +it COULD be used, and had been. But it was his first effort, made two +years ago, when he was younger and more inexperienced. It was a rather +rough thing, she could see--but he had to make it at odd times with +what iron he could pick up or pay for, and at different forges where he +worked. + +She begged his pardon--where-- + +WHERE HE WORKED. + +Ah, then he was the machinist or engineer here? + +No, he worked here just like the others, only he was allowed to put up a +forge while the grain was green, and have his bench in consideration of +the odd jobs he could do in the way of mending tools, etc. There was +a heap of mending and welding to do--she had no idea how quickly +agricultural machines got out of order! He had done much of his work on +the steam-engine on moonlit nights. Yes; she had no idea how perfectly +clear and light it was here in the valley on such nights; although of +course the shadows were very dark, and when he dropped a screw or a nut +it was difficult to find. He had worked there because it saved time +and because it didn't cost anything, and he had nobody to look on or +interfere with him. No, it was not lonely; the coyotes and wild cats +sometimes came very near, but were always more surprised and frightened +than he was; and once a horseman who had strayed off the distant road +yonder mistook him for an animal and shot at him twice. + +He told all this with such freedom from embarrassment and with such +apparent unconsciousness of the blue eyes that were following him, and +the light, graceful figure,--which was so near his own that in some +of his gestures his grimy hands almost touched its delicate +garments,--that, accustomed as she was to a certain masculine aberration +in her presence, she was greatly amused by his naive acceptance of her +as an equal. Suddenly, looking frankly in her face, he said: + +"I'll show you a secret, if you care to see it." + +Nothing would please her more. + +He glanced hurriedly around, took a key from his pocket, and unlocked +the padlock that secured the closet she had noticed. Then, reaching +within, with infinite care he brought out a small mechanical model. + +"There's an invention of my own. A reaper and thresher combined. I'm +going to have it patented and have a big one made from this model. This +will work, as you see." + +He then explained to her with great precision how as it moved over the +field the double operation was performed by the same motive power. That +it would be a saving of a certain amount of labor and time which she +could not remember. She did not understand a word of his explanations; +she saw only a clean and pretty but complicated toy that under the +manipulation of his grimy fingers rattled a number of frail-like staves +and worked a number of wheels and drums, yet there was no indication of +her ignorance in her sparkling eyes and smiling, breathless attitude. +Perhaps she was interested in his own absorption; the revelation of +his preoccupation with this model struck her as if he had made her +a confidante of some boyish passion for one of her own sex, and she +regarded him with the same sympathizing superiority. + +"You will make a fortune out of it," she said pleasantly. + +Well, he might make enough to be able to go on with some other +inventions he had in his mind. They cost money and time, no matter how +careful one was. + +This was another interesting revelation to the young girl. He not only +did not seem to care for the profit his devotion brought him, but even +his one beloved ideal might be displaced by another. So like a man, +after all! + +Her reflections were broken upon by the sound of voices. The young man +carefully replaced the model in its closet with a parting glance as if +he was closing a shrine, and said, "There comes the wagon." The young +girl turned to face the men who were dragging it from the road, with +the half-complacent air of having been victorious over their late rude +abandonment, but they did not seem to notice it or to be surprised +at her companion, who quickly stepped forward and examined the broken +vehicle with workmanlike deliberation. + +"I hope you will be able to do something with it," she said sweetly, +appealing directly to him. "I should thank you SO MUCH." + +He did not reply. Presently he looked up to the man who had brought her +to the shanty, and said, "The axle's strained, but it's safe for five or +six miles more of this road. I'll put the wheel on easily." He paused, +and without glancing at her, continued, "You might send her on by the +cart." + +"Pray don't trouble yourselves," interrupted the young girl, with a pink +uprising in her cheeks; "I shall be quite satisfied with the buggy as +it stands. Send her on in the cart, indeed! Really, they were a rude +set--ALL of them." + +Without taking the slightest notice of her remark, the man replied +gravely to the young mechanic, "Yes, but we'll be wanting the cart +before it can get back from taking her." + +"Her" again. "I assure you the buggy will serve perfectly well--if +this--gentleman--will only be kind enough to put on the wheel again," +she returned hotly. + +The young mechanic at once set to work. The young girl walked apart +silently until the wheel was restored to its axle. But to her surprise a +different horse was led forward to be harnessed. + +"We thought your horse wasn't safe in case of another accident," said +the first man, with the same smileless consideration. "This one wouldn't +cut up if he was harnessed to an earthquake or a worse driver than +you've got." + +It occurred to her instantly that the more obvious remedy of sending +another driver had been already discussed and rejected by them. Yet, +when her own driver appeared a moment afterwards, she ascended to her +seat with some dignity and a slight increase of color. + +"I am very much obliged to you all," she said, without glancing at the +young inventor. + +"Don't mention it, miss." + +"Good afternoon." + +"Good afternoon." They all took off their hats with the same formal +gravity as the horse moved forward, but turned back to their work again +before she was out of the field. + + +CHAPTER II + + +The ranch of Major Randolph lay on a rich falda of the Coast Range, and +overlooked the great wheat plains that the young girl had just left. +The house of wood and adobe, buried to its first story in rose-trees +and passion vines, was large and commodious. Yet it contained only the +major, his wife, her son and daughter, and the few occasional visitors +from San Francisco whom he entertained, and she tolerated. + +For the major's household was not entirely harmonious. While a young +infantry subaltern at a Gulf station, he had been attracted by the +piquant foreign accent and dramatic gestures of a French Creole widow, +and--believing them, in the first flush of his youthful passion more +than an offset to the encumbrance of her two children who, with the +memory of various marital infidelities were all her late husband had +left her--had proposed, been accepted, and promptly married to her. +Before he obtained his captaincy, she had partly lost her accent, and +those dramatic gestures, which had accented the passion of their brief +courtship, began to intensify domestic altercation and the bursts +of idle jealousy to which she was subject. Whether she was revenging +herself on her second husband for the faults of her first is not known, +but it was certain that she brought an unhallowed knowledge of the +weaknesses, cheap cynicism, and vanity of a foreign predecessor, to sit +in judgment upon the simple-minded and chivalrous American soldier who +had succeeded him, and who was, in fact, the most loyal of husbands. The +natural result of her skepticism was an espionage and criticism of the +wives of the major's brother officers that compelled a frequent change +of quarters. When to this was finally added a racial divergence and +antipathy, the public disparagement of the customs and education of her +female colleagues, and the sudden insistence of a foreign and French +dominance in her household beyond any ordinary Creole justification, +Randolph, presumably to avoid later international complications, +resigned while he was as yet a major. Luckily his latest banishment to +an extreme Western outpost had placed him in California during the flood +of a speculation epoch. He purchased a valuable Spanish grant to three +leagues of land for little over a three months' pay. Following that +yearning which compels retired ship-captains and rovers of all degrees +to buy a farm in their old days, the major, professionally and socially +inured to border strife, sought surcease and Arcadian repose in +ranching. + +It was here that Mrs. Randolph, late relict of the late Scipion +L'Hommadieu, devoted herself to bringing up her children after the +extremest of French methods, and in resurrecting a "de" from her own +family to give a distinct and aristocratic character to their name. The +"de Fontanges l'Hommadieu" were, however, only known to their neighbors, +after the Western fashion, by their stepfather's name,--when they were +known at all--which was seldom. For the boy was unpleasantly conceited +as a precocious worldling, and the girl as unpleasantly complacent in +her role of ingenue. The household was completely dominated by Mrs. +Randolph. A punctilious Catholic, she attended all the functions of the +adjacent mission, and the shadow of a black soutane at twilight gliding +through the wild oat-fields behind the ranch had often been mistaken for +a coyote. The peace-loving major did not object to a piety which, while +it left his own conscience free, imparted a respectable religious air to +his household, and kept him from the equally distasteful approaches of +the Puritanism of his neighbors, and was blissfully unconscious that he +was strengthening the antagonistic foreign element in his family with an +alien church. + +Meantime, as the repaired buggy was slowly making its way towards his +house, Major Randolph entered his wife's boudoir with a letter which the +San Francisco post had just brought him. A look of embarrassment on his +good-humored face strengthened the hard lines of hers; she felt some +momentary weakness of her natural enemy, and prepared to give battle. + +"I'm afraid here's something of a muddle, Josephine," he began with a +deprecating smile. "Mallory, who was coming down here with his daughter, +you know"-- + +"This is the first intimation I have had that anything has been settled +upon," interrupted the lady, with appalling deliberation. + +"However, my dear, you know I told you last week that he thought of +bringing her here while he went South on business. You know, being a +widower, he has no one to leave her with." + +"And I suppose it is the American fashion to intrust one's daughters to +any old boon companions?" + +"Mallory is an old friend," interrupted the major, impatiently. "He +knows I'm married, and although he has never seen YOU, he is quite +willing to leave his daughter here." + +"Thank you!" + +"Come, you know what I mean. The man naturally believes that my wife +will be a proper chaperone for his daughter. But that is not the present +question. He intended to call here; I expected to take you over to San +Jose to see her and all that, you know; but the fact of it is--that +is--it seems from this letter that--he's been called away sooner than he +expected, and that--well--hang it! the girl is actually on her way here +now." + +"Alone?" + +"I suppose so. You know one thinks nothing of that here." + +"Or any other propriety, for that matter." + +"For heaven's sake, Josephine, don't be ridiculous! Of course it's +stupid her coming in this way, and Mallory ought to have brought +her--but she's coming, and we must receive her. By Jove! Here she is +now!" he added, starting up after a hurried glance through the window. +"But what kind of a d----d turn-out is that, anyhow?" + +It certainly was an odd-looking conveyance that had entered the gates, +and was now slowly coming up the drive towards the house. A large +draught horse harnessed to a dust-covered buggy, whose strained +fore-axle, bent by the last mile of heavy road, had slanted the tops +of the fore-wheels towards each other at an alarming angle. The light, +graceful dress and elegant parasol of the young girl, who occupied half +of its single seat, looked ludicrously pronounced by the side of the +slouching figure and grimy duster of the driver, who occupied the other +half. + +Mrs. Randolph gave a gritty laugh. "I thought you said she was alone. Is +that an escort she has picked up, American fashion, on the road?" + +"That's her hired driver, no doubt. Hang it! she can't drive here by +herself," retorted the major, impatiently, hurrying to the door and down +the staircase. But he was instantly followed by his wife. She had no +idea of permitting a possible understanding to be exchanged in their +first greeting. The late M. l'Hommadieu had been able to impart a whole +plan of intrigue in a single word and glance. + +Happily, Rose Mallory, already in the hall, in a few words detailed the +accident that had befallen her, to the honest sympathy of the major and +the coldly-polite concern of Mrs. Randolph, who, in deliberately chosen +sentences, managed to convey to the young girl the conviction that +accidents of any kind to young ladies were to be regarded as only +a shade removed from indiscretions. Rose was impressed, and even +flattered, by the fastidiousness of this foreign-appearing woman, and +after the fashion of youthful natures, accorded to her the respect due +to recognized authority. When to this authority, which was evident, she +added a depreciation of the major, I fear that some common instinct +of feminine tyranny responded in Rose's breast, and that on the very +threshold of the honest soldier's home she tacitly agreed with the wife +to look down upon him. Mrs. Randolph departed to inform her son and +daughter of their guest's arrival. As a matter of fact, however, they +had already observed her approach to the house through the slits of +their drawn window-blinds, and those even narrower prejudices and +limited comprehensions which their education had fostered. The girl, +Adele, had only grasped the fact that Rose had come to their house in +fine clothes, alone with a man, in a broken-down vehicle, and was moved +to easy mirth and righteous wonder. The young man, Emile, had agreed +with her, with the mental reservation that the guest was pretty, and +must eventually fall in love with him. They both, however, welcomed her +with a trained politeness and a superficial attention that, while the +indifference of her own countrymen in the wheat-field was still fresh in +her recollection, struck her with grateful contrast; the major's quiet +and unobtrusive kindliness naturally made less impression, or was +accepted as a matter of course. + +"Well," said the major, cheerfully but tentatively, to his wife when +they were alone again, "she seems a nice girl, after all; and a good +deal of pluck and character, by Jove! to push on in that broken buggy +rather than linger or come in a farm cart, eh?" + +"She was alone in that wheat-field," said Mrs. Randolph, with grim +deliberation, "for half an hour; she confesses it herself--TALKING WITH +A YOUNG MAN!" + +"Yes, but the others had gone for the buggy. And, in the name of Heaven, +what would you have her do--hide herself in the grain?" said the major, +desperately. "Besides," he added, with a recklessness he afterwards +regretted, "that mechanical chap they've got there is really intelligent +and worth talking to." + +"I have no doubt SHE thought so," said Mrs. Randolph, with a mirthless +smile. "In fact, I have observed that the American freedom generally +means doing what you WANT to do. Indeed, I wonder she didn't bring him +with her! Only I beg, major, that you will not again, in the presence +of my daughter,--and I may even say, of my son,--talk lightly of the +solitary meetings of young ladies with mechanics, even though their +faces were smutty, and their clothes covered with oil." + +The major here muttered something about there being less danger in a +young lady listening to the intelligence of a coarsely-dressed laborer +than to the compliments of a rose-scented fop, but Mrs. Randolph walked +out of the room before he finished the evident platitude. + +That night Rose Mallory retired to her room in a state of +sell-satisfaction that she even felt was to a certain extent a virtue. +She was delighted with her reception and with her hostess and family. +It was strange her father had not spoken more of MRS. Randolph, who was +clearly the superior of his old friend. What fine manners they all had, +so different from other people she had known! There was quite an Old +World civilization about them; really, it was like going abroad! She +would make the most of her opportunity and profit by her visit. She +would begin by improving her French; they spoke it perfectly, and with +such a pure accent. She would correct certain errors she was conscious +of in her own manners, and copy Mrs. Randolph as much as possible. +Certainly, there was a great deal to be said of Mrs. Randolph's way +of looking at things. Now she thought of it calmly, there WAS too much +informality and freedom in American ways! There was not enough respect +due to position and circumstances. Take those men in the wheat-field, +for example. Yet here she found it difficult to formulate an indictment +against them for "freedom." She would like to go there some day with the +Randolphs and let them see what company manners were! She was thoroughly +convinced now that her father had done wrong in sending her alone; it +certainly was most disrespectful to them and careless of him (she had +quite forgotten that she had herself proposed to her father to go alone +rather than wait at the hotel), and she must have looked very ridiculous +in her fine clothes and the broken-down buggy. When her trunk came by +express to-morrow she would look out something more sober. She must +remember that she was in a Catholic and religious household now. Ah, +yes! how very fine it was to see that priest at dinner in his soutane, +sitting down like one of the family, and making them all seem like a +picture of some historical and aristocratic romance! And then they were +actually "de Fontanges l'Hommadieu." How different he was from that +shabby Methodist minister who used to come to see her father in a black +cravat with a hideous bow! Really there was something to say for a +religion that contained so much picturesque refinement; and for her +part--but that will do. I beg to say that I am not writing of any +particular snob or feminine monstrosity, but of a very charming +creature, who was quite able to say her prayers afterwards like a good +girl, and lay her pretty cheek upon her pillow without a blush. + +She opened her window and looked out. The moon, a great silver dome, +was uplifting itself from a bluish-gray level, which she knew was the +distant plain of wheat. Somewhere in its midst appeared a dull star, +at times brightening as if blown upon or drawn upwards in a comet-like +trail. By some odd instinct she felt that it was the solitary forge +of the young inventor, and pictured him standing before it with his +abstracted hazel eyes and a face more begrimed in the moonlight than +ever. When DID he wash himself? Perhaps not until Sunday. How lonely it +must be out there! She slightly shivered and turned from the window. +As she did so, it seemed to her that something knocked against her door +from without. Opening it quickly, she was almost certain that the sound +of a rustling skirt retreated along the passage. It was very late; +perhaps she had disturbed the house by shutting her window. No doubt +it was the motherly interest of Mrs. Randolph that impelled her to +come softly and look after her; and for once her simple surmises were +correct. For not only the inspecting eyes of her hostess, but the +amatory glances of the youthful Emile, had been fastened upon her window +until the light disappeared, and even the Holy Mission Church of San +Jose had assured itself of the dear child's safety with a large and +supple ear at her keyhole. + +The next morning Major Randolph took her with Adele in a light cariole +over the ranch. Although his domain was nearly as large as the adjoining +wheat plain, it was not, like that, monopolized by one enormous +characteristic yield, but embraced a more diversified product. There +were acres and acres of potatoes in rows of endless and varying +succession; there were miles of wild oats and barley, which overtopped +them as they drove in narrow lanes of dry and dusty monotony; there were +orchards of pears, apricots, peaches, and nectarines, and vineyards of +grapes, so comparatively dwarfed in height that they scarcely reached +to the level of their eyes, yet laden and breaking beneath the weight of +their ludicrously disproportionate fruit. What seemed to be a vast green +plateau covered with tiny patches, that headed the northern edge of +the prospect, was an enormous bed of strawberry plants. But everywhere, +crossing the track, bounding the fields, orchards, and vineyards, +intersecting the paths of the whole domain, were narrow irrigating ducts +and channels of running water. + +"Those," said the major, poetically, "are the veins and arteries of +the ranch. Come with me now, and I'll show you its pulsating heart." +Descending from the wagon into pedestrian prose again, he led Rose a +hundred yards further to a shed that covered a wonderful artesian well. +In the centre of a basin a column of water rose regularly with the even +flow and volume of a brook. "It is one of the largest in the State," +said the major, "and is the life of all that grows here during six +months of the year." + +Pleased as the young girl was with those evidences of the prosperity and +position of her host, she was struck, however, with the fact that the +farm-laborers, wine-growers, nurserymen, and all field hands scattered +on the vast estate were apparently of the same independent, unpastoral, +and unprofessional character as the men of the wheat-field. There were +no cottages or farm buildings that she could see, nor any apparent +connection between the household and the estate; far from suggesting +tenantry or retainers, the men who were working in the fields glanced +at them as they passed with the indifference of strangers, or replied to +the major's greetings or questionings with perfect equality of manner, +or even businesslike reserve and caution. Her host explained that the +ranch was worked by a company "on shares;" that those laborers were, in +fact, the bulk of the company; and that he, the major, only furnished +the land, the seed, and the implements. "That man who was driving the +long roller, and with whom you were indignant because he wouldn't get +out of our way, is the president of the company." + +"That needn't make him so uncivil," said Rose, poutingly, "for if it +comes to that you're the LANDLORD," she added triumphantly. + +"No," said the major, good-humoredly. "I am simply the man driving the +lighter and more easily-managed team for pleasure, and he's the man +driving the heavier and more difficult machine for work. It's for me to +get out of his way; and looked at in the light of my being THE LANDLORD +it is still worse, for as we're working 'on shares' I'm interrupting HIS +work, and reducing HIS profits merely because I choose to sacrifice my +own." + +I need not say that those atrociously leveling sentiments were received +by the young ladies with that feminine scorn which is only qualified +by misconception. Rose, who, under the influence of her hostess, had a +vague impression that they sounded something like the French Revolution, +and that Adele must feel like the Princess Elizabeth, rushed to her +relief like a good girl. "But, major, now, YOU'RE a gentleman, and if +YOU had been driving that roller, you know you would have turned out for +us." + +"I don't know about that," said the major, mischievously; "but if I +had, I should have known that the other fellow who accepted it wasn't a +gentleman." + +But Rose, having sufficiently shown her partisanship in the discussion, +after the feminine fashion, did not care particularly for the logical +result. After a moment's silence she resumed: "And the wheat ranch +below--is that carried on in the same way?" + +"Yes. But their landlord is a bank, who advances not only the land, but +the money to work it, and doesn't ride around in a buggy with a couple +of charmingly distracting young ladies." + +"And do they all share alike?" continued Rose, ignoring the pleasantry, +"big and little--that young inventor with the rest?" + +She stopped. She felt the ingenue's usually complacent eyes suddenly +fixed upon her with an unhallowed precocity, and as quickly withdrawn. +Without knowing why, she felt embarrassed, and changed the subject. + +The next day they drove to the Convent of Santa Clara and the Mission +College of San Jose. Their welcome at both places seemed to Rose to be a +mingling of caste greeting and spiritual zeal, and the austere seclusion +and reserve of those cloisters repeated that suggestion of an Old World +civilization that had already fascinated the young Western girl. They +made other excursions in the vicinity, but did not extend it to a visit +to their few neighbors. With their reserved and exclusive ideas this +fact did not strike Rose as peculiar, but on a later shopping +expedition to the town of San Jose, a certain reticence and aggressive +sensitiveness on the part of the shopkeepers and tradespeople towards +the Randolphs produced an unpleasant impression on her mind. She could +not help noticing, too, that after the first stare of astonishment which +greeted her appearance with her hostess, she herself was included in +the antagonism. With her youthful prepossession for her friends, this +distinction she regarded as flattering and aristocratic, and I fear she +accented it still more by discussing with Mrs. Randolph the merits +of the shopkeepers' wares in schoolgirl French before them. She was +unfortunate enough, however, to do this in the shop of a polyglot +German. + +"Oxcoos me, mees," he said gravely,--"but dot lady speeks Engeleesh so +goot mit yourselluf, and ven you dells to her dot silk is hallf gotton +in English, she onderstand you mooch better, and it don't make nodings +to me." The laugh which would have followed from her own countrywomen +did not, however, break upon the trained faces of the "de Fontanges +l'Hommadieus," yet while Rose would have joined in it, albeit a +little ruefully, she felt for the first time mortified at their civil +insincerity. + +At the end of two weeks, Major Randolph received a letter from Mr. +Mallory. When he had read it, he turned to his wife: "He thanks you," he +said, "for your kindness to his daughter, and explains that his sudden +departure was owing to the necessity of his taking advantage of a great +opportunity for speculation that had offered." As Mrs. Randolph turned +away with a slight shrug of the shoulders, the major continued: "But you +haven't heard all! That opportunity was the securing of a half interest +in a cinnabar lode in Sonora, which has already gone up a hundred +thousand dollars in his hands! By Jove! a man can afford to drop a +little social ceremony on those terms--eh, Josephine?" he concluded with +a triumphant chuckle. + +"He's as likely to lose his hundred thousand to-morrow, while his +manners will remain," said Mrs. Randolph. "I've no faith in these sudden +California fortunes!" + +"You're wrong as regards Mallory, for he's as careful as he is lucky. He +don't throw money away for appearance sake, or he'd have a rich home for +that daughter. He could afford it." + +Mrs. Randolph was silent. "She is his only daughter, I believe," she +continued presently. + +"Yes--he has no other kith or kin," returned the major. + +"She seems to be very much impressed by Emile," said Mrs. Randolph. + +Major Randolph faced his wife quickly. + +"In the name of all that's ridiculous, my dear, you are not already +thinking of"--he gasped. + +"I should be very loth to give MY sanction to anything of the kind, +knowing the difference of her birth, education, and religion,--although +the latter I believe she would readily change," said Mrs. Randolph, +severely. "But when you speak of MY already thinking of 'such things,' +do you suppose that your friend, Mr. Mallory, didn't consider all that +when he sent that girl here?" + +"Never," said the major, vehemently, "and if it entered his head now, by +Jove, he'd take her away to-morrow--always supposing I didn't anticipate +him by sending her off myself." + +Mrs. Randolph uttered her mirthless laugh. "And you suppose the girl +would go? Really, major, you don't seem to understand this boasted +liberty of your own countrywoman. What does she care for her father's +control? Why, she'd make him do just what SHE wanted. But," she added +with an expression of dignity, "perhaps we had better not discuss this +until we know something of Emile's feelings in the matter. That is the +only question that concerns us." With this she swept out of the room, +leaving the major at first speechless with honest indignation, and +then after the fashion of all guileless natures, a little uneasy and +suspicious of his own guilelessness. For a day or two after, he found +himself, not without a sensation of meanness, watching Rose when in +Emile's presence, but he could distinguish nothing more than the frank +satisfaction she showed equally to the others. Yet he found himself +regretting even that, so subtle was the contagion of his wife's +suspicions. + + +CHAPTER III + + +It had been a warm morning; an unusual mist, which the sun had not +dissipated, had crept on from the great grain-fields beyond, and hung +around the house charged with a dry, dusty closeness that seemed to be +quite independent of the sun's rays, and more like a heated exhalation +or emanation of the soil itself. In its acrid irritation Rose thought +she could detect the breath of the wheat as on the day she had +plunged into its pale, green shadows. By the afternoon this mist had +disappeared, apparently in the same mysterious manner, but not scattered +by the usual trade-wind, which--another unusual circumstance--that day +was not forthcoming. There was a breathlessness in the air like the +hush of listening expectancy, which filled the young girl with a vague +restlessness, and seemed to even affect a scattered company of crows +in the field beyond the house, which rose suddenly with startled but +aimless wings, and then dropped vacantly among the grain again. + +Major Randolph was inspecting a distant part of the ranch, Mrs. Randolph +was presumably engaged in her boudoir, and Rose was sitting between +Adele and Emile before the piano in the drawing-room, listlessly +turning over the leaves of some music. There had been an odd mingling of +eagerness and abstraction in the usual attentions of the young man that +morning, and a certain nervous affectation in his manner of twisting the +ends of a small black moustache, which resembled his mother's eyebrows, +that had affected Rose with a half-amused, half-uneasy consciousness, +but which she had, however, referred to the restlessness produced by the +weather. It occurred to her also that the vacuously amiable Adele had +once or twice regarded her with the same precocious, childlike curiosity +and infantine cunning she had once before exhibited. All this did not, +however, abate her admiration for both--perhaps particularly for this +picturesquely gentlemanly young fellow, with his gentle audacities +of compliment, his caressing attentions, and his unfailing and equal +address. And when, discovering that she had mislaid her fan for the +fifth time that morning, he started up with equal and undiminished fire +to go again and fetch it, the look of grateful pleasure and pleading +perplexity in her pretty eyes might have turned a less conceited brain +than his. + +"But you don't know where it is!" + +"I shall find it by instinct." + +"You are spoiling me--you two." The parenthesis was a hesitating +addition, but she continued, with fresh sincerity, "I shall be quite +helpless when I leave here--if I am ever able to go by myself." + +"Don't ever go, then." + +"But just now I want my fan; it is so close everywhere to-day." + +"I fly, mademoiselle." + +He started to the door. + +She called after him:-- + +"Let me help your instinct, then; I had it last in the major's study." + +"That was where I was going." + +He disappeared. Rose got up and moved uneasily towards the window. "How +queer and quiet it looks outside. It's really too bad that he should be +sent after that fan again. He'll never find it." She resumed her place +at the piano, Adele following her with round, expectant eyes. After a +pause she started up again. "I'll go and fetch it myself," she said, +with a half-embarrassed laugh, and ran to the door. + +Scarcely understanding her own nervousness, but finding relief in rapid +movement, Rose flew lightly up the staircase. The major's study, where +she had been writing letters, during his absence, that morning, was at +the further end of a long passage, and near her own bedroom, the door of +which, as she passed, she noticed, half-abstractedly, was open, but she +continued on and hurriedly entered the study. At the same moment Emile, +with a smile on his face, turned towards her with the fan in his hand. + +"Oh, you've found it," she said, with nervous eagerness. "I was so +afraid you'd have all your trouble for nothing." + +She extended her hand, with a half-breathless smile, for the fan, but he +caught her outstretched little palm in his own, and held it. + +"Ah! but you are not going to leave us, are you?" + +In a flash of consciousness she understood him, and, as it seemed to +her, her own nervousness, and all, and everything. And with it came a +swift appreciation of all it meant to her and her future. To be +always with him and like him, a part of this refined and restful +seclusion--akin to all that had so attracted her in this house; not to +be obliged to educate herself up to it, but to be in it on equal terms +at once; to know that it was no wild, foolish youthful fancy, but a +wise, thoughtful, and prudent resolve, that her father would understand +and her friends respect: these were the thoughts that crowded quickly +upon her, more like an explanation of her feelings than a revelation, in +the brief second that he held her hand. It was not, perhaps, love as +she had dreamed it, and even BELIEVED it, before. She was not ashamed +or embarrassed; she even felt, with a slight pride, that she was not +blushing. She raised her eyes frankly. What she WOULD have said she did +not know, for the door, which he had closed behind her, began to shake +violently. + +It was not the fear of some angry intrusion or interference surely that +made him drop her hand instantly. It was not--her second thought--the +idea that some one had fallen in a fit against it that blanched his face +with abject and unreasoning terror! It must have been something else +that caused him to utter an inarticulate cry and dash out of the room +and down the stairs like a madman! What had happened? + +In her own self-possession she knew that all this was passing rapidly, +that it was not the door now that was still shaking, for it had swung +almost shut again--but it was the windows, the book-shelves, the floor +beneath her feet, that were all shaking. She heard a hurried scrambling, +the trampling of feet below, and the quick rustling of a skirt in the +passage, as if some one had precipitately fled from her room. Yet no one +had called to her--even HE had said nothing. Whatever had happened they +clearly had not cared for her to know. + +The jarring and rattling ceased as suddenly, but the house seemed silent +and empty. She moved to the door, which had now swung open a few inches, +but to her astonishment it was fixed in that position, and she could not +pass. As yet she had been free from any personal fear, and even now it +was with a half smile at her imprisonment in the major's study, that she +rang the bell and turned to the window. A man, whom she recognized +as one of the ranch laborers, was standing a hundred feet away in the +garden, looking curiously at the house. He saw her face as she tried to +raise the sash, uttered an exclamation, and ran forward. But before she +could understand what he said, the sash began to rattle in her hand, the +jarring recommenced, the floor shook beneath her feet, a hideous sound +of grinding seemed to come from the walls, a thin seam of dust-like +smoke broke from the ceiling, and with the noise of falling plaster a +dozen books followed each other from the shelves, in what in the frantic +hurry of that moment seemed a grimly deliberate succession; a picture +hanging against the wall, to her dazed wonder, swung forward, and +appeared to stand at right angles from it; she felt herself reeling +against the furniture; a deadly nausea overtook her; as she glanced +despairingly towards the window, the outlying fields beyond the garden +seemed to be undulating like a sea. For the first time she raised her +voice, not in fear, but in a pathetic little cry of apology for her +awkwardness in tumbling about and not being able to grapple this new +experience, and then she found herself near the door, which had once +more swung free. She grasped it eagerly, and darted out of the study +into the deserted passage. Here some instinct made her follow the line +of the wall, rather than the shaking balusters of the corridor and +staircase, but before she reached the bottom she heard a shout, and +the farm laborer she had seen coming towards her seized her by the arm, +dragged her to the open doorway of the drawing-room, and halted beneath +its arch in the wall. Another thrill, but lighter than before, passed +through the building, then all was still again. + +"It's over; I reckon that's all just now," said the man, coolly. "It's +quite safe to cut and run for the garden now, through this window." He +half led, half lifted her through the French window to the veranda and +the ground, and locking her arm in his, ran quickly forward a hundred +feet from the house, stopping at last beneath a large post oak where +there was a rustic seat into which she sank. "You're safe now, I +reckon," he said grimly. + +She looked towards the house; the sun was shining brightly; a cool +breeze seemed to have sprung up as they ran. She could see a quantity of +rubbish lying on the roof from which a dozen yards of zinc gutter +were perilously hanging; the broken shafts of the further cluster of +chimneys, a pile of bricks scattered upon the ground and among the +battered down beams of the end of the veranda--but that was all. She +lifted her now whitened face to the man, and with the apologetic smile +still lingering on her lips, asked:-- + +"What does it all mean? What has happened?" + +The man stared at her. "D'ye mean to say ye don't know?" + +"How could I? They must have all left the house as soon as it began. I +was talking to--to M. l'Hommadieu, and he suddenly left." + +The man brought his face angrily down within an inch of her own. "D'ye +mean to say that them d----d French half-breeds stampeded and left yer +there alone?" + +She was still too much stupefied by the reaction to fully comprehend +his meaning, and repeated feebly with her smile still faintly lingering: +"But you don't tell me WHAT it was?" + +"An earthquake," said the man, roughly, "and if it had lasted ten +seconds longer it would have shook the whole shanty down and left you +under it. Yer kin tell that to them, if they don't know it, but from the +way they made tracks to the fields, I reckon they did. They're coming +now." + +Without another word he turned away half surlily, half defiantly, +passing scarce fifty yards away Mrs. Randolph and her daughter, who were +hastening towards their guest. + +"Oh, here you are!" said Mrs. Randolph, with the nearest approach to +effusion that Rose had yet seen in her manner. "We were wondering where +you had run to, and were getting quite concerned. Emile was looking for +you everywhere." + +The recollection of his blank and abject face, his vague outcry and +blind fright, came back to Rose with a shock that sent a flash of +sympathetic shame to her face. The ingenious Adele noticed it, and +dutifully pinched her mother's arm. + +"Emile?" echoed Rose faintly--"looking for ME?" + +Mother and daughter exchanged glances. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Randolph, cheerfully, "he says he started to run with +you, but you got ahead and slipped out of the garden door--or something +of the kind," she added, with the air of making light of Rose's girlish +fears. "You know one scarcely knows what one does at such times, and +it must have been frightfully strange to YOU--and he's been quite +distracted, lest you should have wandered away. Adele, run and tell him +Miss Mallory has been here under the oak all the time." + +Rose started--and then fell hopelessly back in her seat. Perhaps it WAS +true! Perhaps he had not rushed off with that awful face and without a +word. Perhaps she herself had been half-frightened out of her reason. +In the simple, weak kindness of her nature it seemed less dreadful to +believe that the fault was partly her own. + +"And you went back into the house to look for us when all was over," +said Mrs. Randolph, fixing her black, beady, magnetic eyes on Rose, "and +that stupid yokel Zake brought you out again. He needn't have clutched +your arm so closely, my dear,--I must speak to the major about his +excessive familiarity--but I suppose I shall be told that that is +American freedom. I call it 'a liberty.'" + +It struck Rose that she had not even thanked the man--in the same flash +that she remembered something dreadful that he had said. She covered her +face with her hands and tried to recall herself. + +Mrs. Randolph gently tapped her shoulder with a mixture of maternal +philosophy and discipline, and continued: "Of course, it's an upset--and +you're confused still. That's nothing. They say, dear, it's perfectly +well known that no two people's recollections of these things ever are +the same. It's really ridiculous the contradictory stories one hears. +Isn't it, Emile?" + +Rose felt that the young man had joined them and was looking at her. In +the fear that she should still see some trace of the startled, selfish +animal in his face, she did not dare to raise her eyes to his, but +looked at his mother. Mrs. Randolph was standing then, collected but +impatient. + +"It's all over now," said Emile, in his usual voice, "and except the +chimneys and some fallen plaster there's really no damage done. But +I'm afraid they have caught it pretty badly at the mission, and at San +Francisco in those tall, flashy, rattle-trap buildings they're putting +up. I've just sent off one of the men for news." + +Her father was in San Francisco by that time; and she had never thought +of him! In her quick remorse she now forgot all else and rose to her +feet. + +"I must telegraph to my father at once," she said hurriedly; "he is +there." + +"You had better wait until the messenger returns and hear his news," +said Emile. "If the shock was only a slight one in San Francisco, your +father might not understand you, and would be alarmed." + +She could see his face now--there was no record of the past expression +upon it, but he was watching her eagerly. Mrs. Randolph and Adele had +moved away to speak to the servants. Emile drew nearer. + +"You surely will not desert us now?" he said in a low voice. + +"Please don't," she said vaguely. "I'm so worried," and, pushing quickly +past him, she hurriedly rejoined the two women. + +They were superintending the erection of a long tent or marquee in the +garden, hastily extemporized from the awnings of the veranda and other +cloth. Mrs. Randolph explained that, although all danger was over, there +was the possibility of the recurrence of lighter shocks during the day +and night, and that they would all feel much more secure and comfortable +to camp out for the next twenty-four hours in the open air. + +"Only imagine you're picnicking, and you'll enjoy it as most people +usually enjoy those horrid al fresco entertainments. I don't believe +there's the slightest real necessity for it, but," she added in a lower +voice, "the Irish and Chinese servants are so demoralized now, they +wouldn't stay indoors with us. It's a common practice here, I believe, +for a day or two after the shock, and it gives time to put things right +again and clear up. The old, one-storied, Spanish houses with walls +three feet thick, and built round a courtyard or patio, were much safer. +It's only when the Americans try to improve upon the old order of things +with their pinchbeck shams and stucco that Providence interferes like +this to punish them." + +It was the fact, however, that Rose was more impressed by what seemed to +her the absolute indifference of Providence in the matter, and the cool +resumption by Nature of her ordinary conditions. The sky above their +heads was as rigidly blue as ever, and as smilingly monotonous; the +distant prospect, with its clear, well-known silhouettes, had not +changed; the crows swung on lazy, deliberate wings over the grain as +before; and the trade-wind was again blowing in its quiet persistency. +And yet she knew that something had happened that would never again make +her enjoyment of the prospect the same--that nothing would ever be as +it was yesterday. I think at first she referred only to the material and +larger phenomena, and did not confound this revelation of the insecurity +of the universe with her experience of man. Yet the fact also remained +that to the conservative, correct, and, as she believed, secure +condition to which she had been approximating, all her relations were +rudely shaken and upset. It really seemed to this simple-minded young +woman that the revolutionary disturbance of settled conditions might +have as Providential an origin as the "Divine Right" of which she had +heard so much. + + +CHAPTER IV + + +In her desire to be alone and to evade the now significant attentions +of Emile, she took advantage of the bustle that followed the hurried +transfer of furniture and articles from the house to escape through the +garden to the outlying fields. Striking into one of the dusty lanes that +she remembered, she wandered on for half an hour until her progress and +meditation were suddenly arrested. She had come upon a long chasm or +crack in the soil, full twenty feet wide and as many in depth, crossing +her path at right angles. She did not remember having seen it before; +the track of wheels went up to its precipitous edge; she could see +the track on the other side, but the hiatus remained, unbridged and +uncovered. It was not there yesterday. She glanced right and left; the +fissure seemed to extend, like a moat or ditch, from the distant road to +the upland between her and the great wheat valley below, from which she +was shut off. An odd sense of being in some way a prisoner confronted +her. She drew back with an impatient start, and perhaps her first real +sense of indignation. A voice behind her, which she at once recognized, +scarcely restored her calmness. + +"You can't get across there, miss." + +She turned. It was the young inventor from the wheat ranch, on horseback +and with a clean face. He had just ridden out of the grain on the same +side of the chasm as herself. + +"But you seem to have got over," she said bluntly. + +"Yes, but it was further up the field. I reckoned that the split might +be deeper but not so broad in the rock outcrop over there than in the +adobe here. I found it so and jumped it." + +He looked as if he might--alert, intelligent, and self-contained. He +lingered a moment, and then continued:-- + +"I'm afraid you must have been badly shaken and a little frightened up +there before the chimneys came down?" + +"No," she was glad to say briefly, and she believed truthfully, "I wasn't +frightened. I didn't even know it was an earthquake." + +"Ah!" he reflected, "that was because you were a stranger. It's +odd--they're all like that. I suppose it's because nobody really expects +or believes in the unlooked-for thing, and yet that's the thing that +always happens. And then, of course, that other affair, which really is +serious, startled you the more." + +She felt herself ridiculously and angrily blushing. "I don't know what +you mean," she said icily. "What other affair?" + +"Why, the well." + +"The well?" she repeated vacantly. + +"Yes; the artesian well has stopped. Didn't the major tell you?" + +"No," said the girl. "He was away; I haven't seen him yet." + +"Well, the flow of water has ceased completely. That's what I'm here +for. The major sent for me, and I've been to examine it." + +"And is that stoppage so very important?" she said dubiously. + +It was his turn to look at her wonderingly. + +"If it's LOST entirely, it means ruin for the ranch," he said sharply. +He wheeled his horse, nodded gravely, and trotted off. + +Major Randolph's figure of the "life-blood of the ranch" flashed across +her suddenly. She knew nothing of irrigation or the costly appliances +by which the Californian agriculturist opposed the long summer droughts. +She only vaguely guessed that the dreadful earthquake had struck at the +prosperity of those people whom only a few hours ago she had been proud +to call her friends. The underlying goodness of her nature was touched. +Should she let a momentary fault--if it were not really, after all, +only a misunderstanding--rise between her and them at such a moment? She +turned and hurried quickly towards the house. + +Hastening onward, she found time, however, to wonder also why +these common men--she now included even the young inventor in that +category--were all so rude and uncivil to HER! She had never before +been treated in this way; she had always been rather embarrassed by the +admiring attentions of young men (clerks and collegians) in her Atlantic +home, and, of professional men (merchants and stockbrokers) in San +Francisco. It was true that they were not as continually devoted to her +and to the nice art and etiquette of pleasing as Emile,--they had other +things to think about, being in business and not being GENTLEMEN,--but +then they were greatly superior to these clowns, who took no notice of +her, and rode off without lingering or formal leave-taking when their +selfish affairs were concluded. It must be the contact of the vulgar +earth--this wretched, cracking, material, and yet ungovernable and +lawless earth--that so depraved them. She felt she would like to say +this to some one--not her father, for he wouldn't listen to her, nor to +the major, who would laughingly argue with her, but to Mrs. Randolph, +who would understand her, and perhaps say it some day in her own +sharp, sneering way to these very clowns. With those gentle sentiments +irradiating her blue eyes, and putting a pink flush upon her fair +cheeks, Rose reached the garden with the intention of rushing +sympathetically into Mrs. Randolph's arms. But it suddenly occurred +to her that she would be obliged to state how she became aware of this +misfortune, and with it came an instinctive aversion to speak of her +meeting with the inventor. She would wait until Mrs. Randolph told her. +But although that lady was engaged in a low-voiced discussion in French +with Emile and Adele, which instantly ceased at her approach, there was +no allusion made to the new calamity. "You need not telegraph to your +father," she said as Rose approached, "he has already telegraphed to you +for news; as you were out, and the messenger was waiting an answer, we +opened the dispatch, and sent one, telling him that you were all right, +and that he need not hurry here on your account. So you are satisfied, +I hope." A few hours ago this would have been true, and Rose would have +probably seen in the action of her hostess only a flattering motherly +supervision; there was, in fact, still a lingering trace of trust in her +mind yet she was conscious that she would have preferred to answer the +dispatch herself, and to have let her father come. To a girl brought +up with a belief in the right of individual independence of thought and +action, there was something in Mrs. Randolph's practical ignoring of +that right which startled her in spite of her new conservatism, while, +as the daughter of a business man, her instincts revolted against Mrs. +Randolph's unbusiness-like action with the telegram, however vulgar and +unrefined she may have begun to consider a life of business. The +result was a certain constraint and embarrassment in her manner, which, +however, had the laudable effect of limiting Emile's attention to +significant glances, and was no doubt variously interpreted by the +others. But she satisfied her conscience by determining to make a +confidence of her sympathy to the major on the first opportunity. + +This she presently found when the others were preoccupied; the major +greeting her with a somewhat careworn face, but a voice whose habitual +kindness was unchanged. When he had condoled with her on the terrifying +phenomenon that had marred her visit to the ranch,--and she could not +help impatiently noticing that he too seemed to have accepted his wife's +theory that she had been half deliriously frightened,--he regretted that +her father had not concluded to come down to the ranch, as his practical +advice would have been invaluable in this emergency. She was about to +eagerly explain why, when it occurred to her that Mrs. Randolph had only +given him a suppressed version of the telegram, and that she would be +betraying her, or again taking sides in this partisan divided home. +With some hesitation she at last alluded to the accident to the artesian +well. The major did not ask her how she had heard of it; it was a bad +business, he thought, but it might not be a total loss. The water may +have been only diverted by the shock and might be found again at the +lower level, or in some lateral fissure. He had sent hurriedly for Tom +Bent--that clever young engineer at the wheat ranch, who was always +studying up these things with his inventions--and that was his opinion. +No, Tom was not a well-digger, but it was generally known that he had +"located" one or two, and had long ago advised the tapping of that flow +by a second boring, in case of just such an emergency. He was coming +again to-morrow. By the way, he had asked how the young lady visitor +was, and hoped she had not been alarmed by the earthquake! + +Rose felt herself again blushing, and, what was more singular, with an +unexpected and it seemed to her ridiculous pleasure, although outwardly +she appeared to ignore the civility completely. And she had no +intention of being so easily placated. If this young man thought by mere +perfunctory civilities to her HOST to make up for his clownishness to +HER, he was mistaken. She would let him see it when he called to-morrow. +She quickly turned the subject by assuring the major of her sympathy and +her intention of sending for her father. For the rest of the afternoon +and during their al fresco dinner she solved the difficulty of her +strained relations with Mrs. Randolph and Emile by conversing chiefly +with the major, tacitly avoiding, however, any allusion to this Mr. +Bent. But Mrs. Randolph was less careful. + +"You don't really mean to say, major," she began in her dryest, +grittiest manner, "that instead of sending to San Francisco for some +skilled master-mechanic, you are going to listen to the vagaries of a +conceited, half-educated farm-laborer, and employ him? You might as well +call in some of those wizards or water-witches at once." But the major, +like many other well-managed husbands who are good-humoredly content +to suffer in the sunshine of prosperity, had no idea of doing so in +adversity, and the prospect of being obliged to go back to youthful +struggles had recalled some of the independence of that period. He +looked up quietly, and said:-- + +"If his conclusions are as clear and satisfactory to-morrow as they were +to-day, I shall certainly try to secure his services." + +"Then I can only say I would prefer the water-witch. He at least +would not represent a class of neighbors who have made themselves +systematically uncivil and disagreeable to us." + +"I am afraid, Josephine, we have not tried to make ourselves +particularly agreeable to THEM," said the major. + +"If that can only be done by admitting their equality, I prefer they +should remain uncivil. Only let it be understood, major, that if you +choose to take this Tom-the-ploughboy to mend your well, you will at +least keep him there while he is on the property." + +With what retort the major would have kept up this conjugal discussion, +already beginning to be awkward to the discreet visitor, is not known, +as it was suddenly stopped by a bullet from the rosebud lips of the +ingenuous Adele. + +"Why, he's very handsome when his face is clean, and his hands are small +and not at all hard. And he doesn't talk the least bit queer or common." + +There was a dead silence. "And pray where did YOU see him, and what do +you know about his hands?" asked Mrs. Randolph, in her most desiccated +voice. "Or has the major already presented you to him? I shouldn't be +surprised." + +"No, but"--hesitated the young girl, with a certain mouse-like +audacity,--"when you sent me to look after Miss Mallory, I came up to +him just after he had spoken to her, and he stopped to ask me how we all +were, and if Miss Mallory was really frightened by the earthquake, and +he shook hands for good afternoon--that's all." + +"And who taught you to converse with common strangers and shake hands +with them?" continued Mrs. Randolph, with narrowing lips. + +"Nobody, mamma; but I thought if Miss Mallory, who is a young lady, +could speak to him, so could I, who am not out yet." + +"We won't discuss this any further at present," said Mrs. Randolph, +stiffly, as the major smiled grimly at Rose. "The earthquake seems to +have shaken down in this house more than the chimneys." + +It certainly had shaken all power of sleep from the eyes of Rose when +the household at last dispersed to lie down in their clothes on +the mattresses which had been arranged under the awnings. She was +continually starting up from confused dreams of the ground shaking under +her, or she seemed to be standing on the brink of some dreadful abyss +like the great chasm on the grain-field, when it began to tremble and +crumble beneath her feet. It was near morning when, unable to endure +it any longer, she managed without disturbing the sleeping Adele, +who occupied the same curtained recess with her, to slip out from +the awning. Wrapped in a thick shawl, she made her way through the +encompassing trees and bushes of the garden that had seemed to imprison +and suffocate her, to the edge of the grain-field, where she could +breathe the fresh air beneath an open, starlit sky. There was no moon +and the darkness favored her; she had no fears that weighed against the +horror of seclusion with her own fancies. Besides, they were camping +OUT of the house, and if she chose to sit up or walk about, no one could +think it strange. She wished her father were here that she might have +some one of her own kin to talk to, yet she knew not what to say to him +if he had come. She wanted somebody to sympathize with her feelings,--or +rather, perhaps, some one to combat and even ridicule the uneasiness +that had lately come over her. She knew what her father would say,--"Do +you want to go, or do you want to stay here? Do you like these people, +or do you not?" She remembered the one or two glowing and enthusiastic +accounts she had written him of her visit here, and felt herself +blushing again. What would he think of Mrs. Randolph's opening and +answering the telegram? Wouldn't he find out from the major if she had +garbled the sense of his dispatch? + +Away to the right, in the midst of the distant and invisible +wheat-field, there was the same intermittent star, which like a living, +breathing thing seemed to dilate in glowing respiration, as she had seen +it the first night of her visit. Mr. Bent's forge! It must be nearly +daylight now; the poor fellow had been up all night, or else was +stealing this early march on the day. She recalled Adele's sudden +eulogium of him. The first natural smile that had come to her lips since +the earthquake broke up her nervous restraint, and sent her back more +like her old self to her couch. + +But she had not proceeded far towards the tent, when she heard the sound +of low voices approaching her. It was the major and his wife, who, like +herself, had evidently been unable to sleep, and were up betimes. A new +instinct of secretiveness, which she felt was partly the effect of her +artificial surrounding, checked her first natural instinct to call to +them, and she drew back deeper in the shadow to let them pass. But to +her great discomfiture the major in a conversational emphasis stopped +directly in front of her. + +"You are wrong, I tell you, a thousand times wrong. The girl is simply +upset by this earthquake. It's a great pity her father didn't come +instead of telegraphing. And by Jove, rather than hear any more of +this, I'll send for him myself," said the major, in an energetic but +suppressed voice. + +"And the girl won't thank you, and you'll be a fool for your pains," +returned Mrs. Randolph, with dry persistency. + +"But according to your own ideas of propriety, Mallory ought to be the +first one to be consulted--and by me, too." + +"Not in this case. Of course, before any actual engagement is on, you +can speak of Emile's attentions." + +"But suppose Mallory has other views. Suppose he declines the honor. The +man is no fool." + +"Thank you. But for that very reason he must. Listen to me, major; if he +doesn't care to please his daughter for her own sake, he will have to +do so for the sake of decency. Yes, I tell you, she has thoroughly +compromised herself--quite enough, if it is ever known, to spoil any +other engagement her father may make. Why, ask Adele! The day of the +earthquake she ABSOLUTELY had the audacity to send him out of the room +upstairs into your study for her fan, and then follow him up there +alone. The servants knew it. I knew it, for I was in her room at the +time with Father Antonio. The earthquake made it plain to everybody. +Decline it! No. Mr. Mallory will think twice about it before he does +that. What's that? Who's there?" + +There was a sudden rustle in the bushes like the passage of some +frightened animal--and then all was still again. + + +CHAPTER V + + +The sun, an hour high, but only just topping the greenish crests of the +wheat, was streaming like the morning breeze through the open length of +Tom Bent's workshed. An exaggerated and prolonged shadow of the young +inventor himself at work beside his bench was stretching itself far into +the broken-down ranks of stalks towards the invisible road, and falling +at the very feet of Rose Mallory as she emerged from them. + +She was very pale, very quiet, and very determined. The traveling mantle +thrown over her shoulders was dusty, the ribbons that tied her hat under +her round chin had become unloosed. She advanced, walking down the line +of shadow directly towards him. + +"I am afraid I will have to trouble you once more," she said with a +faint smile, which did not, however, reach her perplexed eyes. "Could +you give me any kind of a conveyance that would take me to San Jose at +once?" + +The young man had started at the rustling of her dress in the shavings, +and turned eagerly. The faintest indication of a loss of interest was +visible for an instant in his face, but it quickly passed into a smile +of recognition. Yet she felt that he had neither noticed any change in +her appearance, nor experienced any wonder at seeing her there at that +hour. + +"I did not take a buggy from the house," she went on quickly, "for I +left early, and did not want to disturb them. In fact, they don't know +that I am gone. I was worried at not hearing news from my father in San +Francisco since the earthquake, and I thought I would run down to San +Jose to inquire without putting them to any trouble. Anything will do +that you have ready, if I can take it at once." + +Still without exhibiting the least surprise, Bent nodded affirmatively, +put down his tools, begged her to wait a moment, and ran off in the +direction of the cabin. As he disappeared behind the wheat, she lapsed +quite suddenly against the work bench, but recovered herself a moment +later, leaning with her back against it, her hands grasping it on either +side, and her knit brows and determined little face turned towards the +road. Then she stood erect again, shook the dust out of her skirts, +lifted her veil, wiped her cheeks and brow with the corner of a small +handkerchief, and began walking up and down the length of the shed as +Bent reappeared. + +He was accompanied by the man who had first led her through the wheat. +He gazed upon her with apparently all the curiosity and concern that the +other had lacked. + +"You want to get to San Jose as quick as you can?" he said +interrogatively. + +"Yes," she said quickly, "if you can help me." + +"You walked all the way from the major's here?" he continued, without +taking his eyes from her face. + +"Yes," she answered with an affectation of carelessness she had not +shown to Bent. "But I started very early, it was cool and pleasant, and +didn't seem far." + +"I'll put you down in San Jose inside the hour. You shall have my horse +and trotting sulky, and I'll drive you myself. Will that do?" + +She looked at him wonderingly. She had not forgotten his previous +restraint and gravity, but now his face seemed to have relaxed with some +humorous satisfaction. She felt herself coloring slightly, but whether +with shame or relief she could not tell. + +"I shall be so much obliged to you," she replied hesitatingly, "and so +will my father, I know." + +"I reckon," said the man with the same look of amused conjecture; then, +with a quick, assuring nod, he turned away, and dived into the wheat +again. + +"You're all right now, Miss Mallory," said Bent, complacently. "Dawson +will fix it. He's got a good horse, and he's a good driver, too." He +paused, and then added pleasantly, "I suppose they're all well up at the +house?" + +It was so evident that his remark carried no personal meaning to herself +that she was obliged to answer carelessly, "Oh, yes." + +"I suppose you see a good deal of Miss Randolph--Miss Adele, I think +you call her?" he remarked tentatively, and with a certain boyish +enthusiasm, which she had never conceived possible to his nature. + +"Yes," she replied a little dryly, "she is the only young lady there." +She stopped, remembering Adele's naive description of the man before +her, and said abruptly, "You know her, then?" + +"A little," replied the young man, modestly. "I see her pretty often +when I am passing the upper end of the ranch. She's very well brought +up, and her manners are very refined--don't you think so?--and yet she's +just as simple and natural as a country girl. There's a great deal +in education after all, isn't there?" he went on confidentially, "and +although"--he lowered his voice and looked cautiously around him--"I +believe that some of us here don't fancy her mother much, there's no +doubt that Mrs. Randolph knows how to bring up her children. Some people +think that kind of education is all artificial, and don't believe in it, +but I do!" + +With the consciousness that she was running away from these people and +the shameful disclosure she had heard last night--with the recollection +of Adele's scandalous interpretation of her most innocent actions and +her sudden and complete revulsion against all that she had previously +admired in that household, to hear this man who had seemed to her a +living protest against their ideas and principles, now expressing them +and holding them up for emulation, almost took her breath away. + +"I suppose that means you intend to fix Major Randolph's well for him?" +she said dryly. + +"Yes," he returned without noticing her manner; "and I think I can find +that water again. I've been studying it up all night, and do you know +what I'm going to do? I am going to make the earthquake that lost it +help me to find it again." He paused, and looked at her with a smile +and a return of his former enthusiasm. "Do you remember the crack in the +adobe field that stopped you yesterday?" + +"Yes," said the girl, with a slight shiver. + +"I told you then that the same crack was a split in the rock outcrop +further up the plain, and was deeper. I am satisfied now, from what I +have seen, that it is really a rupture of the whole strata all the way +down. That's the one weak point that the imprisoned water is sure to +find, and that's where the borer will tap it--in the new well that the +earthquake itself has sunk." + +It seemed to her now that she understood his explanation perfectly, and +she wondered the more that he had been so mistaken in his estimate of +Adele. She turned away a little impatiently and looked anxiously towards +the point where Dawson had disappeared. Bent followed her eyes. + +"He'll be here in a moment, Miss Mallory. He has to drive slowly through +the grain, but I hear the wheels." He stopped, and his voice took up its +previous note of boyish hesitation. "By the way--I'll--I'll be going up +to the Rancho this afternoon to see the major. Have you any message for +Mrs. Randolph--or for--for Miss Adele?" + +"No"--said Rose, hesitatingly, "and--and"-- + +"I see," interrupted Bent, carelessly. "You don't want anything said +about your coming here. I won't." + +It struck her that he seemed to have no ulterior meaning in the +suggestion. But before she could make any reply, Dawson reappeared, +driving a handsome mare harnessed to a light, spider-like vehicle. He +had also assumed, evidently in great haste, a black frock coat buttoned +over his waistcoatless and cravatless shirt, and a tall black hat that +already seemed to be cracking in the sunlight. He drove up, at once +assisted her to the narrow perch beside him, and with a nod to Bent +drove off. His breathless expedition relieved the leave-taking of these +young people of any ceremony. + +"I suppose," said Mr. Dawson, giving a half glance over his shoulder as +they struck into the dusty highway,--"I suppose you don't care to see +anybody before you get to San Jose?" + +"No-o-o," said Rose, timidly. + +"And I reckon you wouldn't mind my racin' a bit if anybody kem up?" + +"No." + +"The mare's sort o' fastidious about takin' anybody's dust." + +"Is she?" said Rose, with a faint smile. + +"Awful," responded her companion; "and the queerest thing of all is, she +can't bear to have any one behind her, either." + +He leaned forward with his expression of humorous enjoyment of some +latent joke and did something with the reins--Rose never could clearly +understand what, though it seemed to her that he simply lifted them with +ostentatious lightness; but the mare suddenly seemed to LENGTHEN herself +and lose her height, and the stalks of wheat on either side of the dusty +track began to melt into each other, and then slipped like a flash into +one long, continuous, shimmering green hedge. So perfect was the mare's +action that the girl was scarcely conscious of any increased effort; so +harmonious the whole movement that the light skeleton wagon seemed only +a prolonged process of that long, slim body and free, collarless neck, +both straight as the thin shafts on each side and straighter than the +delicate ribbon-like traces which, in what seemed a mere affectation of +conscious power, hung at times almost limp between the whiffle-tree and +the narrow breast band which was all that confined the animal's powerful +fore-quarters. So superb was the reach of its long easy stride that Rose +could scarcely see any undulations in the brown shining back on which +she could have placed her foot, nor felt the soft beat of the delicate +hoofs that took the dust so firmly and yet so lightly. + +The rapidity of motion which kept them both with heads bent forward and +seemed to force back any utterance that rose to their lips spared Rose +the obligation of conversation, and her companion was equally reticent. +But it was evident to her that he half suspected she was running away +from the Randolphs, and that she wished to avoid the embarrassment of +being overtaken even in persuasive pursuit. It was not possible that +he knew the cause of her flight, and yet she could not account for +his evident desire to befriend her, nor, above all, for his apparently +humorous enjoyment of the situation. Had he taken it gravely, she might +have been tempted to partly confide in him and ask his advice. Was she +doing right, after all? Ought she not to have stayed long enough to +speak her mind to Mrs. Randolph and demand to be sent home? No! She had +not only shrunk from repeating the infamous slander she had overheard, +but she had a terrible fear that if she had done so, Mrs. Randolph was +capable of denying it, or even charging her of being still under the +influence of the earthquake shock and of walking in her sleep. No! She +could not trust her--she could trust no one there. Had not even the +major listened to those infamous lies? Had she not seen that he was +helpless in the hands of this cabal in his own household?--a cabal that +she herself had thoughtlessly joined against him. + +They had reached the first slight ascent. Her companion drew out his +watch, looked at it with satisfaction, and changed the position of his +hands on the reins. Without being able to detect the difference, she +felt they were slackening speed. She turned inquiringly towards him; he +nodded his head, with a half smile and a gesture to her to look ahead. +The spires of San Jose were already faintly uplifting from the distant +fringe of oaks. + +So soon! In fifteen minutes she would be there--and THEN! She remembered +suddenly she had not yet determined what to do. Should she go on at once +to San Francisco, or telegraph to her father and await him at San Jose? +In either case a new fear of the precipitancy of her action and the +inadequacy of her reasons had sprung up in her mind. Would her father +understand her? Would he underrate the cause and be mortified at the +insult she had given the family of his old friend, or, more dreadful +still, would he exaggerate her wrongs and seek a personal quarrel with +the major. He was a man of quick temper, and had the Western ideas of +redress. Perhaps even now she was precipitating a duel between them. Her +cheeks grew wan again, her breath came quickly, tears gathered in her +eyes. Oh, she was a dreadful girl, she knew it; she was an utterly +miserable one, and she knew that too! + +The reins were tightened. The pace lessened and at last fell to a walk. +Conscious of her telltale eyes and troubled face, she dared not turn to +her companion to ask him why, but glanced across the fields. + +"When you first came I didn't get to know your name, Miss Mallory, but I +reckon I know your father." + +Her father! What made him say that? She wanted to speak, but she +felt she could not. In another moment, if he went on, she must do +SOMETHING--she would cry! + +"I reckon you'll be wanting to go to the hotel first, anyway?" + +There!--she knew it! He WOULD keep on! And now she had burst into tears. + +The mare was still walking slowly; the man was lazily bending forward +over the shafts as if nothing had occurred. Then suddenly, illogically, +and without a moment's warning, the pride that had sustained her +crumbled and became as the dust of the road. + +She burst out and told him--this stranger!--this man she had +disliked!--all and EVERYTHING. How she had felt, how she had been +deceived, and what she had overheard! + +"I thought as much," said her companion, quietly, "and that's why I sent +for your father." + +"You sent for my father!--when?--where?" echoed Rose, in astonishment. + +"Yesterday. He was to come to-day, and if we don't find him at the hotel +it will be because he has already started to come here by the upper and +longer road. But you leave it to ME, and don't you say anything to him +of this now. If he's at the hotel, I'll say I drove you down there to +show off the mare. Sabe? If he isn't, I'll leave you there and come back +here to find him. I've got something to tell him that will set YOU all +right." He smiled grimly, lifted the reins, the mare started forward +again, and the vehicle and its occupants disappeared in a vanishing dust +cloud. + + +CHAPTER VI + + +It was nearly noon when Mr. Dawson finished rubbing down his sweating +mare in the little stable shed among the wheat. He had left Rose at the +hotel, for they found Mr. Mallory had previously started by a circuitous +route for the wheat ranch. He had resumed not only his working clothes +but his working expression. He was now superintending the unloading of +a wain of stores and implements when the light carryall of the Randolphs +rolled into the field. It contained only Mrs. Randolph and the driver. +A slight look of intelligence passed between the latter and the nearest +one of Dawson's companions, succeeded, however, by a dull look of stupid +vacancy on the faces of all the others, including Dawson. Mrs. Randolph +noticed it, and was forewarned. She reflected that no human beings ever +looked NATURALLY as stupid as that and were able to work. She smiled +sarcastically, and then began with dry distinctness and narrowing lips. + +"Miss Mallory, a young lady visiting us, went out for an early walk this +morning and has not returned. It is possible she may have lost her way +among your wheat. Have you seen anything of her?" + +Dawson raised his eyes from his work and glanced slowly around at his +companions, as if taking the heavy sense of the assembly. One or two +shook their heads mechanically, and returned to their suspended labor. +He said, coolly:-- + +"Nobody here seems to." + +She felt that they were lying. She was only a woman against five men. +She was only a petty domestic tyrant; she might have been a larger one. +But she had all the courage of that possibility. + +"Major Randolph and my son are away," she went on, drawing herself +erect. "But I know that the major will pay liberally if these men will +search the field, besides making it all right with your--EMPLOYERS--for +the loss of time." + +Dawson uttered a single word in a low voice to the man nearest him, +who apparently communicated it to the others, for the four men stopped +unloading, and moved away one after the other--even the driver joining +in the exodus. Mrs. Randolph smiled sarcastically; it was plain that +these people, with all their boasted independence, were quite amenable +to pecuniary considerations. Nevertheless, as Dawson remained looking +quietly at her, she said:-- + +"Then I suppose they've concluded to go and see?" + +"No; I've sent them away so that they couldn't HEAR." + +"Hear what?" + +"What I've got to say to you." + +She looked at him suddenly. Then she said, with a disdainful +glance around her: "I see I am helpless here, and--thanks to your +trickery--alone. Have a care, sir; I warn you that you will have to +answer to Major Randolph for any insolence." + +"I reckon you won't tell Major Randolph what I have to say to you," he +returned coolly. + +Her lips were nearly a grayish hue, but she said scornfully: "And why +not? Do you know who you are talking to?" + +The man came lazily forward to the carryall, carelessly brushed aside +the slack reins, and resting his elbows on the horse's back, laid his +chin on his hands, as he looked up in the woman's face. + +"Yes; I know who I'm talking to," he said coolly. "But as the major +don't, I reckon you won't tell him." + +"Stand away from that horse!" she said, her whole face taking the +grayish color of her lips, but her black eyes growing smaller and +brighter. "Hand me those reins, and let me pass! What canaille are you +to stop me?" + +"I thought so," returned the man, without altering his position; "you +don't know ME. You never saw ME before. Well, I'm Jim Dawson, the nephew +of L'Hommadieu, YOUR OLD MASTER!" + +She gripped the iron rail of the seat as if to leap from it, but checked +herself suddenly and leaned back, with a set smile on her mouth that +seemed stamped there. It was remarkable that with that smile she flung +away her old affectation of superciliousness for an older and ruder +audacity, and that not only the expression, but the type of her face +appeared to have changed. + +"I don't say," continued the man quietly, "that he didn't MARRY you +before he died. But you know as well as I do that the laws of his State +didn't recognize the marriage of a master with his octoroon slave! And +you know as well as I do that even if he had freed you, he couldn't +change your blood. Why, if I'd been willing to stay at Avoyelles to be a +nigger-driver like him, the plantation of 'de Fontanges'--whose name +you have taken--would have been left to me. If YOU had stayed there, +you might have been my property instead of YOUR owning a square man like +Randolph. You didn't think of that when you came here, did you?" he said +composedly. + +"Oh, mon Dieu!" she said, dropping rapidly into a different accent, +with her white teeth and fixed mirthless smile, "so it is a claim for +PROPERTY, eh? You're wanting money--you? Tres bien, you forget we are +in California, where one does not own a slave. And you have a fine story +there, my poor friend. Very pretty, but very hard to prove, m'sieu. And +these peasants are in it, eh, working it on shares like the farm, eh?" + +"Well," said Dawson, slightly changing his position, and passing his +hand over the horse's neck with a half-wearied contempt, "one of these +men is from Plaquemine, and the other from Coupee. They know all the +l'Hommadieus' history. And they know a streak of the tar brush when they +see it. They took your measure when they came here last year, and sized +you up fairly. So had I, for the matter of that, when I FIRST saw you. +And we compared notes. But the major is a square man, for all he is your +husband, and we reckoned he had a big enough contract on his hands to +take care of you and l'Hommadieu's half-breeds, and so"--he tossed the +reins contemptuously aside--"we kept this to ourselves." + +"And now you want--what--eh?" + +"We want an end to this foolery," he broke out roughly, stepping back +from the vehicle, and facing her suddenly, with his first angry gesture. +"We want an end to these airs and grimaces, and all this dandy nigger +business; we want an end to this 'cake-walking' through the wheat, and +flouting of the honest labor of your betters. We want you and your 'de +Fontanges' to climb down. And we want an end to this roping-in of white +folks to suit your little game; we want an end to your trying to mix +your nigger blood with any one here, and we intend to stop it. We draw +the line at the major." + +Lashed as she had been by those words apparently out of all semblance of +her former social arrogance, a lower and more stubborn resistance seemed +to have sprung up in her, as she sat sideways, watching him with her set +smile and contracting eyes. + +"Ah," she said dryly, "so SHE IS HERE. I thought so. Which of you is it, +eh? It's a good spec--Mallory's a rich man. She's not particular." + +The man had stopped as if listening, his head turned towards the road. +Then he turned carelessly, and facing her again, waved his hand with a +gesture of tired dismissal, and said, "Go! You'll find your driver over +there by the tool-shed. He has heard nothing yet--but I've given you +fair warning. Go!" + +He walked slowly back towards the shed, as the woman, snatching up +the reins, drove violently off in the direction where the men had +disappeared. But she turned aside, ignoring her waiting driver in her +wild and reckless abandonment of all her old conventional attitudes, and +lashing her horse forward with the same set smile on her face, the same +odd relaxation of figure, and the same squaring of her elbows. + +Avoiding the main road, she pushed into a narrow track that intersected +another nearer the scene of the accident to Rose's buggy three weeks +before. She had nearly passed it when she was hailed by a strange voice, +and looking up, perceived a horseman floundering in the mazes of the +wheat to one side of the track. Whatever mean thought of her past life +she was flying from, whatever mean purpose she was flying to, she pulled +up suddenly, and as suddenly resumed her erect, aggressive stiffness. +The stranger was a middle-aged man; in dress and appearance a dweller of +cities. He lifted his hat as he perceived the occupant of the wagon to +be a lady. + +"I beg your pardon, but I fear I've lost my way in trying to make a +short cut to the Excelsior Company's Ranch." + +"You are in it now," said Mrs. Randolph, quickly. + +"Thank you, but where can I find the farmhouse?" + +"There is none," she returned, with her old superciliousness, "unless +you choose to give that name to the shanties and sheds where the +laborers and servants live, near the road." + +The stranger looked puzzled. "I'm looking for a Mr. Dawson," he said +reflectively, "but I may have made some mistake. Do you know Major +Randolph's house hereabouts?" + +"I do. I am Mrs. Randolph," she said stiffly. + +The stranger's brow cleared, and he smiled pleasantly. "Then this is a +fortunate meeting," he said, raising his hat again as he reined in his +horse beside the wagon, "for I am Mr. Mallory, and I was looking forward +to the pleasure of presenting myself to you an hour or two later. The +fact is, an old acquaintance, Mr. Dawson, telegraphed me yesterday to +meet him here on urgent business, and I felt obliged to go there first." + +Mrs. Randolph's eyes sparkled with a sudden gratified intelligence, but +her manner seemed rather to increase than abate its grim precision. + +"Our meeting this morning, Mr. Mallory, is both fortunate and +unfortunate, for I regret to say that your daughter, who has not been +quite herself since the earthquake, was missing early this morning and +has not yet been found, though we have searched everywhere. Understand +me," she said, as the stranger started, "I have no fear for her PERSONAL +safety, I am only concerned for any INDISCRETION that she may commit in +the presence of these strangers whose company she would seem to prefer +to ours." + +"But I don't understand you, madam," said Mallory, sternly; "you are +speaking of my daughter, and"-- + +"Excuse me, Mr. Mallory," said Mrs. Randolph, lifting her hand with +her driest deprecation and her most desiccating smile, "I'm not passing +judgment or criticism. I am of a foreign race, and consequently do not +understand the freedom of American young ladies, and their familiarity +with the opposite sex. I make no charges, I only wish to assure you that +she will no doubt be found in the company and under the protection of +her own countrymen. There is," she added with ironical distinctness, "a +young mechanic, or field hand, or 'quack well-doctor,' whom she seems to +admire, and with whom she appears to be on equal terms." + +Mallory regarded her for a moment fixedly, and then his sternness +relaxed to a mischievously complacent smile. "That must be young Bent, +of whom I've heard," he said with unabated cheerfulness. "And I don't +know but what she may be with him, after all. For now I think of it, a +chuckle-headed fellow, of whom a moment ago I inquired the way to your +house, told me I'd better ask the young man and young woman who were +'philandering through the wheat' yonder. Suppose we look for them. From +what I've heard of Bent he's too much wrapped up in his inventions for +flirtation, but it would be a good joke to stumble upon them." + +Mrs. Randolph's eyes sparkled with a mingling of gratified malice and +undisguised contempt for the fatuous father beside her. But before she +could accept or decline the challenge, it had become useless. A murmur +of youthful voices struck her ear, and she suddenly stood upright and +transfixed in the carriage. For lounging down slowly towards them out +of the dim green aisles of the arbored wheat, lost in themselves and the +shimmering veil of their seclusion, came the engineer, Thomas Bent, and +on his arm, gazing ingenuously into his face, the figure of Adele,--her +own perfect daughter. + + +"I don't think, my dear," said Mr. Mallory, as the anxious Rose flew +into his arms on his return to San Jose, a few hours later, "that it +will be necessary for you to go back again to Major Randolph's before we +leave. I have said 'Good-by' for you and thanked them, and your trunks +are packed and will be sent here. The fact is, my dear, you see this +affair of the earthquake and the disaster to the artesian well have +upset all their arrangements, and I am afraid that my little girl would +be only in their way just now." + +"And you have seen Mr. Dawson--and you know why he sent for you?" asked +the young girl, with nervous eagerness. + +"Ah, yes," said Mr. Mallory thoughtfully, "THAT was really important. +You see, my child," he continued, taking her hand in one of his own and +patting the back of it gently with the other, "we think, Dawson and I, +of taking over the major's ranch and incorporating it with the Excelsior +in one, to be worked on shares like the Excelsior; and as Mrs. Randolph +is very anxious to return to the Atlantic States with her children, it +is quite possible. Mrs. Randolph, as you have possibly noticed," Mr. +Mallory went on, still patting his daughter's hand, "does not feel +entirely at home here, and will consequently leave the major free to +rearrange, by himself, the ranch on the new basis. In fact, as the +change must be made before the crops come in, she talks of going next +week. But if you like the place, Rose, I've no doubt the major and +Dawson will always find room for you and me when we run down there for a +little fresh air." + +"And did you have all that in your mind, papa, when you came down here, +and was that what you and Mr. Dawson wanted to talk about?" said the +astonished Rose. + +"Mainly, my dear, mainly. You see I'm a capitalist now, and the +real value of capital is to know how and when to apply it to certain +conditions." + +"And this Mr.--Mr. Bent--do you think--he will go on and find the water, +papa?" said Rose, hesitatingly. + +"Ah! Bent--Tom Bent--oh, yes," said Mallory, with great heartiness. +"Capital fellow, Bent! and mighty ingenious! Glad you met him! Well," +thoughtfully but still heartily, "he may not find it exactly where he +expected, but he'll find it or something better. We can't part with him, +and he has promised Dawson to stay. We'll utilize HIM, you may be sure." + +It would seem that they did, and from certain interviews and +conversations that took place between Mr. Bent and Miss Mallory on +a later visit, it would also appear that her father had exercised +a discreet reticence in regard to a certain experiment of the young +inventor, of which he had been an accidental witness. + + + + +A MAECENAS OF THE PACIFIC SLOPE + + +CHAPTER I + + +As Mr. Robert Rushbrook, known to an imaginative press as the "Maecenas +of the Pacific Slope," drove up to his country seat, equally referred +to as a "palatial villa," he cast a quick but practical look at the +pillared pretensions of that enormous shell of wood and paint and +plaster. The statement, also a reportorial one, that its site, the +Canyon of Los Osos, "some three years ago was disturbed only by the +passing tread of bear and wild-cat," had lost some of its freshness as a +picturesque apology, and already successive improvements on the original +building seemingly cast the older part of the structure back to a hoary +antiquity. To many it stood as a symbol of everything Robert Rushbrook +did or had done--an improvement of all previous performances; it was +like his own life--an exciting though irritating state of transition to +something better. Yet the visible architectural result, as here shown, +was scarcely harmonious; indeed, some of his friends--and Maecenas had +many--professed to classify the various improvements by the successive +fortunate ventures in their owner's financial career, which had led +to new additions, under the names, of "The Comstock Lode Period," "The +Union Pacific Renaissance," "The Great Wheat Corner," and "Water Front +Gable Style," a humorous trifling that did not, however, prevent a few +who were artists from accepting Maecenas's liberal compensation for +their services in giving shape to those ideas. + +Relinquishing to a groom his fast-trotting team, the second relay in his +two hours' drive from San Francisco, he leaped to the ground to meet the +architect, already awaiting his orders in the courtyard. With his eyes +still fixed upon the irregular building before him, he mingled his +greeting and his directions. + +"Look here, Barker, we'll have a wing thrown out here, and a +hundred-foot ballroom. Something to hold a crowd; something that can be +used for music--sabe?--a concert, or a show." + +"Have you thought of any style, Mr. Rushbrook?" suggested the architect. + +"No," said Rushbrook; "I've been thinking of the time--thirty days, and +everything to be in. You'll stop to dinner. I'll have you sit near Jack +Somers. You can talk style to him. Say I told you." + +"You wish it completed in thirty days?" repeated the architect, +dubiously. + +"Well, I shouldn't mind if it were less. You can begin at once. There's +a telegraph in the house. Patrick will take any message, and you can +send up to San Francisco and fix things before dinner." + +Before the man could reply, Rushbrook was already giving a hurried +interview to the gardener and others on his way to the front porch. In +another moment he had entered his own hall,--a wonderful temple of white +and silver plaster, formal, yet friable like the sugared erection of a +wedding cake,--where his major-domo awaited him. + +"Well, who's here?" asked Rushbrook, still advancing towards his +apartments. + +"Dinner is set for thirty, sir," said the functionary, keeping step +demurely with his master, "but Mr. Appleby takes ten over to San +Mateo, and some may sleep there. The char-a-banc is still out and five +saddle-horses, to a picnic in Green Canyon, and I can't positively say, +but I should think you might count on seeing about forty-five guests +before you go to town to-morrow. The opera troupe seem to have not +exactly understood the invitation, sir." + +"How? I gave it myself." + +"The chorus and supernumeraries thought themselves invited too, sir, and +have come, I believe, sir. At least Signora Pegrelli and Madame Denise +said so, and that they would speak to you about it, but that meantime I +could put them up anywhere." + +"And you made no distinction, of course?" + +"No, sir, I put them in the corresponding rooms opposite, sir. I don't +think the prima donnas like it." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes, sir." + +Whatever was in their minds, the two men never changed their steady, +practical gravity of manner. The major-domo's appeared to be a subdued +imitation of his master's, worn, as he might have worn his master's +clothes, had he accepted, or Mr. Rushbrook permitted, such a +degradation. By this time they had reached the door of Mr. Rushbrook's +room, and the man paused. "I didn't include some guests of Mr. Leyton's, +sir, that he brought over here to show around the place, but he told me +to tell you he would take them away again, or leave them, as you liked. +They're some Eastern strangers stopping with him." + +"All right," said Rushbrook, quietly, as he entered his own apartment. +It was decorated as garishly as the hall, as staring and vivid in color, +but wholesomely new and clean for all its paint, veneering, and plaster. +It was filled with heterogeneous splendor--all new and well kept, yet +with so much of the attitude of the show-room still lingering about +it that one almost expected to see the various articles of furniture +ticketed with their prices. A luxurious bed, with satin hangings and +Indian carved posts, standing ostentatiously in a corner, kept up this +resemblance, for in a curtained recess stood a worn camp bedstead, +Rushbrook's real couch, Spartan in its simplicity. + +Mr. Rushbrook drew his watch from his pocket, and deliberately divested +himself of his boots, coat, waistcoat, and cravat. Then rolling himself +in a fleecy, blanket-like rug with something of the habitual dexterity +of a frontiersman, he threw himself on his couch, closed his eyes, +and went instantly to sleep. Lying there, he appeared to be a man +comfortably middle-aged, with thick iron-gray hair that might have +curled had he encouraged such inclination; a skin roughened and darkened +by external hardships and exposure, but free from taint of inner vice +or excess, and indistinctive features redeemed by a singularly handsome +mouth. As the lower part of the face was partly hidden by a dense but +closely-cropped beard, it is probable that the delicate outlines of his +lips had gained something from their framing. + +He slept, through what seemed to be the unnatural stillness of the large +house,--a quiet that might have come from the lingering influence of +the still virgin solitude around it, as if Nature had forgotten the +intrusion, or were stealthily retaking her own; and later, through the +rattle of returning wheels or the sound of voices, which were, however, +promptly absorbed in that deep and masterful silence which was the +unabdicating genius of the canyon. For it was remarkable that even +the various artists, musicians, orators, and poets whom Maecenas had +gathered in his cool business fashion under that roof, all seemed to +become, by contrast with surrounding Nature, as new and artificial as +the house, and as powerless to assert themselves against its influence. + +He was still sleeping when James re-entered the room, but awoke promptly +at the sound of his voice. In a few moments he had rearranged his +scarcely disordered toilette, and stepped out refreshed and observant +into the hall. The guests were still absent from that part of the +building, and he walked leisurely past the carelessly opened doors +of the rooms they had left. Everywhere he met the same glaring +ornamentation and color, the same garishness of treatment, the same +inharmonious extravagance of furniture, and everywhere the same troubled +acceptance of it by the inmates, or the same sense of temporary and +restricted tenancy. Dresses were hung over cheval glasses; clothes piled +up on chairs to avoid the use of doubtful and over ornamented wardrobes, +and in some cases more practical guests had apparently encamped in a +corner of their apartment. A gentleman from Siskyou--sole proprietor of +a mill patent now being considered by Maecenas--had confined himself to +a rocking-chair and clothes-horse as being trustworthy and familiar; a +bolder spirit from Yreka--in treaty for capital to start an independent +journal devoted to Maecenas's interests--had got a good deal out of, and +indeed all he had INTO, a Louis XVI. armoire; while a young painter from +Sacramento had simply retired into his adjoining bath-room, leaving the +glories of his bedroom untarnished. Suddenly he paused. + +He had turned into a smaller passage in order to make a shorter cut +through one of the deserted suites of apartments that should bring him +to that part of the building where he designed to make his projected +improvement, when his feet were arrested on the threshold of a +sitting-room. Although it contained the same decoration and furniture +as the other rooms, it looked totally different! It was tasteful, +luxurious, comfortable, and habitable. The furniture seemed to have +fallen into harmonious position; even the staring decorations of the +walls and ceiling were toned down by sprays of laurel and red-stained +manzanito boughs with their berries, apparently fresh plucked from the +near canyon. But he was more unexpectedly impressed to see that the room +was at that moment occupied by a tall, handsome girl, who had paused +to take breath, with her hand still on the heavy centre-table she was +moving. Standing there, graceful, glowing, and animated, she looked the +living genius of the recreated apartment. + + +CHAPTER II + + +Mr. Rushbrook glanced rapidly at his unknown guest. "Excuse me," he +said, with respectful business brevity, "but I thought every one was +out," and he stepped backward quickly. + +"I've only just come," she said without embarrassment, "and would you +mind, as you ARE here, giving me a lift with this table?" + +"Certainly," replied Rushbrook, and under the young girl's direction the +millionaire moved the table to one side. + +During the operation he was trying to determine which of his +unrecognized guests the fair occupant was. Possibly one of the Leyton +party, that James had spoken of as impending. + +"Then you have changed all the furniture, and put up these things?" he +asked, pointing to the laurel. + +"Yes, the room was really something TOO awful. It looks better now, +don't you think?" + +"A hundred per cent.," said Rushbrook, promptly. "Look here, I'll tell +you what you've done. You've set the furniture TO WORK! It was simply +lying still--with no return to anybody on the investment." + +The young girl opened her gray eyes at this, and then smiled. The +intruder seemed to be characteristic of California. As for Rushbrook, he +regretted that he did not know her better, he would at once have asked +her to rearrange all the rooms, and have managed in some way liberally +to reward her for it. A girl like that had no nonsense about her. + +"Yes," she said, "I wonder Mr. Rushbrook don't look at it in that way. +It is a shame that all these pretty things--and you know they are really +good and valuable--shouldn't show what they are. But I suppose everybody +here accepts the fact that this man simply buys them because they are +valuable, and nobody interferes, and is content to humor him, laugh at +him, and feel superior. It don't strike me as quite fair, does it you?" + +Rushbrook was pleased. Without the vanity that would be either annoyed +at this revelation of his reputation, or gratified at her defense of it, +he was simply glad to discover that she had not recognized him as her +host, and could continue the conversation unreservedly. "Have you +seen the ladies' boudoir?" he asked. "You know, the room fitted with +knick-knacks and pretty things--some of 'em bought from old collections +in Europe, by fellows who knew what they were but perhaps," he added, +looking into her eyes for the first time, "didn't know exactly what +ladies cared for." + +"I merely glanced in there when I first came, for there was such a queer +lot of women--I'm told he isn't very particular in that way--that I +didn't stay." + +"And you didn't think THEY might be just as valuable and good as some of +the furniture, if they could have been pulled around and put into shape, +or set in a corner, eh?" + +The young girl smiled; she thought her fellow-guest rather amusing, none +the less so, perhaps, for catching up her own ideas, but nevertheless +she slightly shrugged her shoulders with that hopeless skepticism which +women reserve for their own sex. "Some of them looked as if they had +been pulled around, as you say, and hadn't been improved by it." + +"There's no one there now," said Rushbrook, with practical directness; +"come and take a look at it." She complied without hesitation, walking +by his side, tall, easy, and self-possessed, apparently accepting +without self-consciousness his half paternal, half comrade-like +informality. The boudoir was a large room, repeating on a bigger scale +the incongruousness and ill fitting splendor of the others. When she +had of her own accord recognized and pointed out the more admirable +articles, he said, gravely looking at his watch, "We've just about seven +minutes yet; if you'd like to pull and haul these things around, I'll +help you." + +The young girl smiled. "I'm quite content with what I've done in my own +room, where I have no one's taste to consult but my own. I hardly know +how Mr. Rushbrook, or his lady friends, might like my operating here." +Then recognizing with feminine tact the snub that might seem implied in +her refusal, she said quickly, "Tell me something about our host--but +first look! isn't that pretty?" + +She had stopped before the window that looked upon the dim blue abyss of +the canyon, and was leaning out to gaze upon it. Rushbrook joined her. + +"There isn't much to be changed down THERE, is there?" he said, half +interrogatively. + +"No, not unless Mr. Rushbrook took it into his head to roof it in, and +somebody was ready with a contract to do it. But what do you know of +him? Remember, I'm quite a stranger here." + +"You came with Charley Leyton?" + +"With MRS. Leyton's party," said the young girl, with a half-smiling +emphasis. "But it seems that we don't know whether Mr. Rushbrook wants +us here or not till he comes. And the drollest thing about it is that +they're all so perfectly frank in saying so." + +"Charley and he are old friends, and you'll do well to trust to their +judgment." + +This was hardly the kind of response that the handsome and clever +society girl before him had been in the habit of receiving, but it +amused her. Her fellow-guest was decidedly original. But he hadn't +told her about Rushbrook, and it struck her that his opinion would be +independent, at least. She reminded him of it. + +"Look here," said Rushbrook, "you'll meet a man here to-night--or he'll +be sure to meet YOU--who'll tell you all about Rushbrook. He's a smart +chap, knows everybody and talks well. His name is Jack Somers; he is +a great ladies' man. He can talk to you about these sort of things, +too,"--indicating the furniture with a half tolerant, half contemptuous +gesture, that struck her as inconsistent with what seemed to be his +previous interest,--"just as well as he can talk of people. Been in +Europe, too." + +The young girl's eye brightened with a quick vivacity at the name, but a +moment after became reflective and slightly embarrassed. "I know him--I +met him at Mr. Leyton's. He has already talked of Mr. Rushbrook, but," +she added, avoiding any conclusion, with a pretty pout, "I'd like +to have the opinion of others. Yours, now, I fancy would be quite +independent." + +"You stick to what Jack Somers has said, good or bad, and you won't +be far wrong," he said assuringly. He stopped; his quick ear had heard +approaching voices; he returned to her and held out his hand. As it +seemed to her that in California everybody shook hands with everybody +else on the slightest occasions, sometimes to save further conversation, +she gave him her own. He shook it, less forcibly than she had feared, +and abruptly left her. For a moment she was piqued at this superior and +somewhat brusque way of ignoring her request, but reflecting that it +might be the awkwardness of an untrained man, she dismissed it from her +mind. The voices of her friends in the already resounding passages also +recalled her to the fact that she had been wandering about the house +with a stranger, and she rejoined them a little self-consciously. + +"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Leyton, gayly, "it seems we are to stay. +Leyton says Rushbrook won't hear of our going." + +"Does that mean that your husband takes the whole opera troupe over to +your house in exchange?" + +"Don't be satirical, but congratulate yourself on your opportunity of +seeing an awfully funny gathering. I wouldn't have you miss it for the +world. It's the most characteristic thing out." + +"Characteristic of what?" + +"Of Rushbrook, of course. Nobody else would conceive of getting together +such a lot of queer people." + +"But don't it strike you that we're a part of the lot?" + +"Perhaps," returned the lively Mrs. Leyton. "No doubt that's the reason +why Jack Somers is coming over, and is so anxious that YOU should stay. +I can't imagine why else he should rave about Miss Grace Nevil as he +does. Come, Grace, no New York or Philadelphia airs, here! Consider your +uncle's interests with this capitalist, to say nothing of ours. Because +you're a millionaire and have been accustomed to riches from your birth, +don't turn up your nose at our unpampered appetites. Besides, Jack +Somers is Rushbrook's particular friend, and he may think your +criticisms unkind." + +"But IS Mr. Somers such a great friend of Mr. Rushbrook's?" asked Grace +Nevil. + +"Why, of course. Rushbrook consults him about all these things; gives +him carte blanche to invite whom he likes and order what he likes, and +trusts his taste and judgment implicitly." + +"Then this gathering is Mr. Somers's selection?" + +"How preposterous you are, Grace. Of course not. Only Somers's IDEA of +what is pleasing to Rushbrook, gotten up with a taste and discretion +all his own. You know Somers is a gentleman, educated at West +Point--traveled all over Europe--you might have met him there; and +Rushbrook--well, you have only to see him to know what HE is. Don't you +understand?" + +A slight seriousness; the same shadow that once before darkened the +girl's charming face gave way to a mischievous knitting of her brows as +she said naively, "No." + + +CHAPTER III + + +Grace Nevil had quite recovered her equanimity when the indispensable +Mr. Somers, handsome, well-bred, and self-restrained, approached her +later in the crowded drawing-room. Blended with his subdued personal +admiration was a certain ostentation of respect--as of a tribute to +a distinguished guest--that struck her. "I am to have the pleasure of +taking you in, Miss Nevil," he said. "It's my one compensation for the +dreadful responsibility just thrust upon me. Our host has been suddenly +called away, and I am left to take his place." + +Miss Nevil was slightly startled. Nevertheless, she smiled graciously. +"From what I hear this is no new function of yours; that is, if there +really IS a Mr. Rushbrook. I am inclined to think him a myth." + +"You make me wish he were," retorted Somers, gallantly; "but as I +couldn't reign at all, except in his stead, I shall look to you to lend +your rightful grace to my borrowed dignity." + +The more general announcement to the company was received with a few +perfidious regrets from the more polite, but with only amused surprise +by the majority. Indeed, many considered it "characteristic"--"so like +Bob Rushbrook," and a few enthusiastic friends looked upon it as a +crowning and intentional stroke of humor. It remained, however, for the +gentleman from Siskyou to give the incident a subtlety that struck Miss +Nevil's fancy. "It reminds me," he said in her hearing, "of ole Kernel +Frisbee, of Robertson County, one of the purlitest men I ever struck. +When he knew a feller was very dry, he'd jest set the decanter afore +him, and managed to be called outer the room on bus'ness. Now, Bob +Rushbrook's about as white a man as that. He's jest the feller, who, +knowing you and me might feel kinder restrained about indulging our +appetites afore him, kinder drops out easy, and leaves us alone." +And she was impressed by an instinct that the speaker really felt the +delicacy he spoke of, and that it left no sense of inferiority behind. + +The dinner, served in a large, brilliantly-lit saloon, that in floral +decoration and gilded columns suggested an ingenious blending of a +steamboat table d'hote and "harvest home," was perfect in its cuisine, +even if somewhat extravagant in its proportions. + +"I should be glad to receive the salary that Rushbrook pays his chef, +and still happier to know how to earn it as fairly," said Somers to his +fair companion. + +"But is his skill entirely appreciated here?" she asked. + +"Perfectly," responded Somers. "Our friend from Siskyou over there +appreciates that 'pate' which he cannot name as well as I do. Rushbrook +himself is the only exception, yet I fancy that even HIS simplicity and +regularity in feeding is as much a matter of business with him as +any defect in his earlier education. In his eyes, his chef's greatest +qualification is his promptness and fertility. Have you noticed that +ornament before you?" pointing to an elaborate confection. "It bears +your initials, you see. It was conceived and executed since you +arrived--rather, I should say, since it was known that you would honor +us with your company. The greatest difficulty encountered was to find +out what your initials were." + +"And I suppose," mischievously added the young girl to her +acknowledgments, "that the same fertile mind which conceived the design +eventually provided the initials?" + +"That is our secret," responded Somers, with affected gravity. + +The wines were of characteristic expensiveness, and provoked the same +general comment. Rushbrook seldom drank wine; Somers had selected +it. But the barbaric opulence of the entertainment culminated in the +Californian fruits, piled in pyramids on silver dishes, gorgeous and +unreal in their size and painted beauty, and the two Divas smiled over +a basket of grapes and peaches as outrageous in dimensions and glaring +color as any pasteboard banquet at which they had professionally +assisted. As the courses succeeded each other, under the exaltation of +wine, conversation became more general as regarded participation, but +more local and private as regarded the subject, until Miss Nevil could +no longer follow it. The interests of that one, the hopes of another, +the claims of a third, in affairs that were otherwise uninteresting, +were all discussed with singular youthfulness of trust that to her +alone seemed remarkable. Not that she lacked entertainment from the +conversation of her clever companion, whose confidences and criticisms +were very pleasant to her; but she had a gentlewoman's instinct that he +talked to her too much, and more than was consistent with his duties +as the general host. She looked around the table for her singular +acquaintance of an hour before, but she had not seen him since. She +would have spoken about him to Somers, but she had an instinctive +idea that the latter would be antipathetic, in spite of the stranger's +flattering commendation. So she found herself again following Somers's +cynical but good-humored description of the various guests, and, I +fear, seeing with his eyes, listening with his ears, and occasionally +participating in his superior attitude. The "fearful joy" she had found +in the novelty of the situation and the originality of the actors seemed +now quite right from this critical point of view. So she learned how the +guest with the long hair was an unknown painter, to whom Rushbrook had +given a commission for three hundred yards of painted canvas, to be cut +up and framed as occasion and space required, in Rushbrook's new +hotel in San Francisco; how the gray-bearded foreigner near him was an +accomplished bibliophile who was furnishing Mr. Rushbrook's library from +spoils of foreign collections, and had suffered unheard-of agonies from +the millionaire's insisting upon a handsome uniform binding that should +deprive certain precious but musty tomes of their crumbling, worm-eaten +coverings; how the very gentle, clerical-looking stranger, mildest of a +noisy, disputing crowd at the other table, was a notorious duelist and +dead shot; how the only gentleman at the table who retained a flannel +shirt and high boots was not a late-coming mountaineer, but a well-known +English baronet on his travels; how the man who told a somewhat florid +and emphatic anecdote was a popular Eastern clergyman; how the one +querulous, discontented face in a laughing group was the famous humorist +who had just convulsed it; and how a pale, handsome young fellow, who +ate and drank sparingly and disregarded the coquettish advances of the +prettiest Diva with the cold abstraction of a student, was a notorious +roue and gambler. But there was a sudden and unlooked-for change of +criticism and critic. + +The festivity had reached that stage when the guests were more or less +accessible to emotion, and more or less touched by the astounding fact +that every one was enjoying himself. This phenomenon, which is apt to +burst into song or dance among other races, is constrained to voice +itself in an Anglo-Saxon gathering by some explanation, apology, or +moral--known as an after-dinner speech. Thus it was that the gentleman +from Siskyou, who had been from time to time casting glances at Somers +and his fair companion at the head of the table, now rose to his feet, +albeit unsteadily, pushed back his chair, and began:-- + +"'Pears to me, ladies and gentlemen, and feller pardners, that on +an occasion like this, suthin' oughter be said of the man who got it +up--whose money paid for it, and who ain't here to speak for himself, +except by deputy. Yet you all know that's Bob Rushbrook's style--he +ain't here, because he's full of some other plan or improvements--and +it's like him to start suthin' of this kind, give it its aim and +purpose, and then stand aside to let somebody else run it for him. There +ain't no man livin' ez hez, so to speak, more fast horses ready saddled +for riding, and more fast men ready spurred to ride 'em,--whether to win +his races or run his errands. There ain't no man livin' ez knows better +how to make other men's games his, or his game seem to be other men's. +And from Jack Somers smilin' over there, ez knows where to get the best +wine that Bob pays for, and knows how to run this yer show for Bob, +at Bob's expense--we're all contented. Ladies and gentlemen, we're all +contented. We stand, so to speak, on the cards he's dealt us. What may +be his little game, it ain't for us to say; but whatever it is, WE'RE IN +IT. Gentlemen and ladies, we'll drink Bob's health!" + +There was a somewhat sensational pause, followed by good-natured +laughter and applause, in which Somers joined; yet not without a certain +constraint that did not escape the quick sympathy of the shocked and +unsmiling Miss Nevil. It was with a feeling of relief that she caught +the chaperoning eye of Mrs. Leyton, who was entreating her in the usual +mysterious signal to the other ladies to rise and follow her. When she +reached the drawing-room, a little behind the others, she was somewhat +surprised to observe that the stranger whom she had missed during the +evening was approaching her with Mrs. Leyton. + +"Mr. Rushbrook returned sooner than he expected, but unfortunately, +as he always retires early, he has only time to say 'goodnight' to you +before he goes." + +For an instant Grace Nevil was more angry than disconcerted. Then came +the conviction that she was stupid not to have suspected the truth +before. Who else would that brusque stranger develop into but this rude +host? She bowed formally. + +Mr. Rushbrook looked at her with the faintest smile on his handsome +mouth. "Well, Miss Nevil, I hope Jack Somers satisfied your curiosity?" + +With a sudden recollection of the Siskyou gentleman's speech, and a +swift suspicion that in some way she had been made use of with the +others by this forceful-looking man before her, she answered pertly:-- + +"Yes; but there was a speech by a gentleman from Siskyou that struck me +as being nearer to the purpose." + +"That's so,--I heard it as I came in," said Mr. Rushbrook, calmly. "I +don't know but you're right." + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Six months had passed. The Villa of Maecenas was closed at Los Osos +Canyon, and the southwest trade-winds were slanting the rains of the wet +season against its shut windows and barred doors. Within that hollow, +deserted shell, its aspect--save for a single exception--was unchanged; +the furniture and decorations preserved their eternal youth undimmed +by time; the rigidly-arranged rooms, now closed to life and light, +developed more than ever their resemblance to a furniture warehouse. +The single exception was the room which Grace Nevil had rearranged for +herself; and that, oddly enough, was stripped and bare--even to its +paper and mouldings. + +In other respects, the sealed treasures of Rushbrook's villa, far from +provoking any sentimentality, seemed only to give truth to the current +rumor that it was merely waiting to be transformed into a gorgeous +watering-place hotel under Rushbrook's direction; that, with its new +ball-room changed into an elaborate dining-hall, it would undergo still +further improvement, the inevitable end and object of all Rushbrook's +enterprise; and that its former proprietor had already begun another +villa whose magnificence should eclipse the last. There certainly +appeared to be no limit to the millionaire's success in all that he +personally undertook, or in his fortunate complicity with the enterprise +and invention of others. His name was associated with the oldest +and safest schemes, as well as the newest and boldest--with an equal +guarantee of security. A few, it was true, looked doubtingly upon this +"one man power," but could not refute the fact that others had largely +benefited by association with him, and that he shared his profits with +a royal hand. Some objected on higher grounds to his brutalizing +the influence of wealth by his material and extravagantly practical +processes, instead of the gentler suggestions of education and personal +example, and were impelled to point out the fact that he and his +patronage were vulgar. It was felt, however, by those who received his +benefits, that a proper sense of this inferiority was all that ethics +demanded of them. One could still accept Rushbrook's barbaric gifts by +humorously recognizing the fact that he didn't know any better, and that +it pleased him, as long as they resented any higher pretensions. + +The rain-beaten windows of Rushbrook's town house, however, were +cheerfully lit that December evening. Mr. Rushbrook seldom dined +alone; in fact, it was popularly alleged that very often the unfinished +business of the day was concluded over his bountiful and perfect board. +He was dressing as James entered the room. + +"Mr. Leyton is in your study, sir; he will stay to dinner." + +"All right." + +"I think, sir," added James, with respectful suggestiveness, "he wants +to talk. At least, sir, he asked me if you would likely come downstairs +before your company arrived." + +"Ah! Well, tell the others I'm dining on BUSINESS, and set dinner for +two in the blue room." + +"Yes, sir." + +Meanwhile, Mr. Leyton--a man of Rushbrook's age, but not so fresh and +vigorous-looking--had thrown himself in a chair beside the study fire, +after a glance around the handsome and familiar room. For the house had +belonged to a brother millionaire; it had changed hands with certain +shares of "Water Front,"--as some of Rushbrook's dealings had the true +barbaric absence of money detail,--and was elegantly and tastefully +furnished. The cuckoo had, however, already laid a few characteristic +eggs in this adopted nest, and a white marble statue of a nude and +ill-fed Virtue, sent over by Rushbrook's Paris agent, and unpacked +that morning, stood in one corner, and materially brought down the +temperature. A Japanese praying-throne of pure ivory, and, above it, a +few yards of improper, colored exposure by an old master, equalized each +other. + +"And what is all this affair about the dinner?" suddenly asked a +tartly-pitched female voice with a foreign accent. + +Mr. Leyton turned quickly, and was just conscious of a faint shriek, the +rustle of a skirt, and the swift vanishing of a woman's figure from the +doorway. Mr. Leyton turned red. Rushbrook lived en garcon, with feminine +possibilities; Leyton was a married man and a deacon. The incident +which, to a man of the world, would have brought only a smile, fired the +inexperienced Leyton with those exaggerated ideas and intense credulity +regarding vice common to some very good men. He walked on tip-toe to the +door, and peered into the passage. At that moment Rushbrook entered from +the opposite door of the room. + +"Well," said Rushbrook, with his usual practical directness, "what do +you think of her?" + +Leyton, still flushed, and with eyebrows slightly knit, said, awkwardly, +that he had scarcely seen her. + +"She cost me already ten thousand dollars, and I suppose I'll have +to eventually fix up a separate room for her somewhere," continued +Rushhrook. + +"I should certainly advise it," said Leyton, quickly, "for really, +Rushbrook, you know that something is due to the respectable people who +come here, and any of them are likely to see"-- + +"Ah!" interrupted Rushbrook, seriously, "you think she hasn't got on +clothes enough. Why, look here, old man--she's one of the Virtues, and +that's the rig in which they always travel. She's a 'Temperance' or a +'Charity' or a 'Resignation,' or something of that kind. You'll find her +name there in French somewhere at the foot of the marble." + +Leyton saw his mistake, but felt--as others sometimes felt--a doubt +whether this smileless man was not inwardly laughing at him. He replied, +with a keen, rapid glance at his host:-- + +"I was referring to some woman who stood in that doorway just now, and +addressed me rather familiarly, thinking it was you." + +"Oh, the Signora," said Rushbrook, with undisturbed directness; "well, +you saw her at Los Osos last summer. Likely she DID think you were me." + +The cool ignoring of any ulterior thought in Leyton's objection forced +the guest to be equally practical in his reply. + +"Yes, but the fact is that Miss Nevil had talked of coming here with me +this evening to see you on her own affairs, and it wouldn't have been +exactly the thing for her to meet that woman." + +"She wouldn't," said Rushbrook, promptly; "nor would YOU, if you had +gone into the parlor as Miss Nevil would have done. But look here! If +that's the reason why you didn't bring her, send for her at once; my +coachman can take a card from you; the brougham's all ready to fetch +her, and there you are. She'll see only you and me." He was already +moving towards the bell, when Leyton stopped him. + +"No matter now. I can tell you her business, I fancy; and in fact, I +came here to speak of it, quite independently of her." + +"That won't do, Leyton," interrupted Rushbrook, with crisp decision. +"One or the other interview is unnecessary; it wastes time, and isn't +business. Better have her present, even if she don't say a word." + +"Yes, but not in this matter," responded Leyton; "it's about Somers. You +know he's been very attentive to her ever since her uncle left her here +to recruit her health, and I think she fancies him. Well, although she's +independent and her own mistress, as you know, Mrs. Leyton and I are +somewhat responsible for her acquaintance with Somers,--and for that +matter so are you; and as my wife thinks it means a marriage, we ought +to know something more positive about Somers's prospects. Now, all we +really know is that he's a great friend of yours; that you trust a good +deal to him; that he manages your social affairs; that you treat him +as a son or nephew, and it's generally believed that he's as good as +provided for by you--eh? Did you speak?" + +"No," said Rushbrook, quietly regarding the statue as if taking its +measurement for a suitable apartment for it. "Go on." + +"Well," said Leyton, a little impatiently, "that's the belief everybody +has, and you've not contradicted it. And on that we've taken the +responsibility of not interfering with Somers's attentions." + +"Well?" said Rushbrook, interrogatively. + +"Well," replied Leyton, emphatically, "you see I must ask you positively +if you HAVE done anything, or are you going to do anything for him?" + +"Well," replied Rushbrook, with exasperating coolness, "what do you call +this marriage?" + +"I don't understand you," said Leyton. + +"Look here, Leyton," said Rushbrook, suddenly and abruptly facing him; +"Jack Somers has brains, knowledge of society, tact, accomplishments, +and good looks: that's HIS capital as much as mine is money. I employ +him: that's his advertisement, recommendation, and credit. Now, on the +strength of this, as you say, Miss Nevil is willing to invest in him; I +don't see what more can be done." + +"But if her uncle don't think it enough?" + +"She's independent, and has money for both." + +"But if she thinks she's been deceived, and changes her mind?" + +"Leyton, you don't know Miss Nevil. Whatever that girl undertakes she's +weighed fully, and goes through with. If she's trusted him enough to +marry him, money won't stop her; if she thinks she's been deceived, +YOU'LL never know it." + +The enthusiasm and conviction were so unlike Rushbrook's usual cynical +toleration of the sex that Leyton stared at him. + +"That's odd," he returned. "That's what she says of you." + +"Of ME; you mean Somers?" + +"No, of YOU. Come, Rushbrook, don't pretend you don't know that +Miss Nevil is a great partisan of yours, swears by you, says you're +misunderstood by people, and, what's infernally odd in a woman who don't +belong to the class you fancy, don't talk of your habits. That's why she +wants to consult you about Somers, I suppose, and that's why, knowing +you might influence her, I came here first to warn you." + +"And I've told you that whatever I might say or do wouldn't influence +her. So we'll drop the subject." + +"Not yet; for you're bound to see Miss Nevil sooner or later. Now, if +she knows that you've done nothing for this man, your friend and her +lover, won't she be justified in thinking that you would have a reason +for it?" + +"Yes. I should give it." + +"What reason?" + +"That I knew she'd be more contented to have him speculate with HER +money than mine." + +"Then you think that he isn't a business man?" + +"I think that she thinks so, or she wouldn't marry him; it's part of the +attraction. But come, James has been for five minutes discreetly waiting +outside the door to tell us dinner is ready, and the coast clear of all +other company. But look here," he said, suddenly stopping, with his arm +in Leyton's, "you're through your talk, I suppose; perhaps you'd rather +we'd dine with the Signora and the others than alone?" + +For an instant Leyton thrilled with the fascination of what he firmly +believed was a guilty temptation. Rushbrook, perceiving his hesitation, +added:-- + +"By the way, Somers is of the party, and one or two others you know." + +Mr. Leyton opened his eyes widely at this; either the temptation had +passed, or the idea of being seen in doubtful company by a younger man +was distasteful, for he hurriedly disclaimed any preference. "But," he +added with half-significant politeness, "perhaps I'm keeping YOU from +them?" + +"It makes not the slightest difference to me," calmly returned +Rushbrook, with such evident truthfulness that Leyton was both convinced +and chagrined. + +Preceded by the grave and ubiquitous James, they crossed the large hall, +and entered through a smaller passage a charming apartment hung +with blue damask, which might have been a boudoir, study, or small +reception-room, yet had the air of never having been anything +continuously. It would seem that Rushbrook's habit of "camping out" in +different parts of his mansion obtained here as at Los Osos, and with +the exception of a small closet which contained his Spartan bed, the +rooms were used separately or in suites, as occasion or his friends +required. It is recorded that an Eastern guest, newly arrived with +letters to Rushbrook, after a tedious journey, expressed himself pleased +with this same blue room, in which he had sumptuously dined with his +host, and subsequently fell asleep in his chair. Without disturbing his +guest, Rushbrook had the table removed, a bed, washstand, and bureau +brought in, the sleeping man delicately laid upon the former, and left +to awaken to an Arabian night's realization of his wish. + + +CHAPTER V + + +James had barely disposed of his master and Mr. Leyton, and left them +to the ministrations of two of his underlings, before he was confronted +with one of those difficult problems that it was part of his functions +to solve. The porter informed him that a young lady had just driven up +in a carriage ostensibly to see Mr. Rushbrook, and James, descending to +the outer vestibule, found himself face to face with Miss Grace +Nevil. Happily, that young lady, with her usual tact, spared him some +embarrassment. + +"Oh! James," she said sweetly, "do you think that I could see Mr. +Rushbrook for a few moments IF I WAITED FOR THE OPPORTUNITY? You +understand, I don't wish to disturb him or his company by being +regularly announced." + +The young girl's practical intelligence appeared to increase the usual +respect which James had always shown her. "I understand, miss." He +thought for a moment, and said: "Would you mind, then, following me +where you could wait quietly and alone?" As she quickly assented, he +preceded her up the staircase, past the study and drawing-room, which +he did not enter, and stopped before a small door at the end of the +passage. Then, handing her a key which he took from his pocket, he said: +"This is the only room in the house that is strictly reserved for Mr. +Rushbrook, and even he rarely uses it. You can wait here without anybody +knowing it until I can communicate with him and bring you to his study +unobserved. And," he hesitated, "if you wouldn't mind locking the door +when you are in, miss, you would be more secure, and I will knock when I +come for you." + +Grace Nevil smiled at the man's prudence, and entered the room. But +to her great surprise, she had scarcely shut the door when she was +instantly struck with a singular memory which the apartment recalled. +It was exactly like the room she had altered in Rushbrook's villa at Los +Osos! More than that, on close examination it proved to be the very same +furniture, arranged as she remembered to have arranged it, even to the +flowers and grasses, now, alas! faded and withered on the walls. There +could be no mistake. There was the open ebony escritoire with the +satin blotter open, and its leaves still bearing the marks of her own +handwriting. So complete to her mind was the idea of her own tenancy in +this bachelor's mansion, that she looked around with a half indignant +alarm for the photograph or portrait of herself that might further +indicate it. But there was no other exposition. The only thing that had +been added was a gilt legend on the satin case of the blotter,--"Los +Osos, August 20, 186-," the day she had occupied the room. + +She was pleased, astonished, but more than all, disturbed. The only man +who might claim a right to this figurative possession of her tastes +and habits was the one whom she had quietly, reflectively, and +understandingly half accepted as her lover, and on whose account she had +come to consult Rushbrook. But Somers was not a sentimentalist; in +fact, as a young girl, forced by her independent position to somewhat +critically scrutinize masculine weaknesses, this had always been a point +in his favor; yet even if he had joined with his friend Rushbrook to +perpetuate the memory of their first acquaintanceship, his taste merely +would not have selected a chambre de garcon in Mr. Rushbrook's home for +its exhibition. Her conception of the opposite characters of the two men +was singularly distinct and real, and this momentary confusion of them +was disagreeable to her woman's sense. But at this moment James came to +release her and conduct her to Rushbrook's study, where he would join +her at once. Everything had been arranged as she had wished. + +Even a more practical man than Rushbrook might have lingered over the +picture of the tall, graceful figure of Miss Nevil, quietly enthroned in +a large armchair by the fire, her scarlet, satin-lined cloak thrown over +its back, and her chin resting on her hand. But the millionaire +walked directly towards her with his usual frankness of conscious but +restrained power, and she felt, as she always did, perfectly at her +ease in his presence. Even as she took his outstretched hand, its +straightforward grasp seemed to endow her with its own confidence. + +"You'll excuse my coming here so abruptly," she smiled, "but I wanted +to get before Mr. Leyton, who, I believe, wishes to see you on the same +business as myself." + +"He is here already, and dining with me," said Rushbrook. + +"Ah! does he know I am here?" asked the girl, quietly. + +"No; as he said you had thought of coming with him and didn't, I +presumed you didn't care to have him know you had come alone." + +"Not exactly that, Mr. Rushbrook," she said, fixing her beautiful eyes +on him in bright and trustful confidence, "but I happen to have a fuller +knowledge of this business than he has, and yet, as it is not altogether +my own secret, I was not permitted to divulge it to him. Nor would I +tell it to you, only I cannot bear that you should think that I +had anything to do with this wretched inquisition into Mr. Somers's +prospects. Knowing as well as you do how perfectly independent I am, you +would think it strange, wouldn't you? But you would think it still +more surprising when you found out that I and my uncle already know how +liberally and generously you had provided for Mr. Somers in the future." + +"How I had provided for Mr. Somers in the future?" repeated Mr. +Rushbrook, looking at the fire, "eh?" + +"Yes," said the young girl, indifferently, "how you were to put him in +to succeed you in the Water Front Trust, and all that. He told it to +me and my uncle at the outset of our acquaintance, confidentially, of +course, and I dare say with an honorable delicacy that was like him, +but--I suppose now you will think me foolish--all the while I'd rather +he had not." + +"You'd rather he had not," repeated Mr. Rushbrook, slowly. + +"Yes," continued Grace, leaning forward with her rounded elbows on her +knees, and her slim, arched feet on the fender. "Now you are going +to laugh at me, Mr. Rushbrook, but all this seemed to me to spoil any +spontaneous feeling I might have towards him, and limit my independence +in a thing that should be a matter of free will alone. It seemed too +much like a business proposition! There, my kind friend!" she added, +looking up and trying to read his face with a half girlish pout, +followed, however, by a maturer sigh, "I'm bothering you with a woman's +foolishness instead of talking business. And"--another sigh--"I suppose +it IS business for my uncle, who has, it seems, bought into this Trust +on these possible contingencies, has, perhaps, been asking questions +of Mr. Leyton. But I don't want you to think that I approve of them, or +advise your answering them. But you are not listening." + +"I had forgotten something," said Rushbrook, with an odd preoccupation. +"Excuse me a moment--I will return at once." + +He left the room quite as abstractedly, and when he reached the passage, +he apparently could not remember what he had forgotten, as he walked +deliberately to the end window, where, with his arms folded behind his +back, he remained looking out into the street. A passer-by, glancing +up, might have said he had seen the pale, stern ghost of Mr. Rushbrook, +framed like a stony portrait in the window. But he presently turned +away, and re-entered the room, going up to Grace, who was still sitting +by the fire, in his usual strong and direct fashion. + +"Well! Now let me see what you want. I think this would do." + +He took a seat at his open desk, and rapidly wrote a few lines. + +"There," he continued, "when you write to your uncle, inclose that." + +Grace took it, and read:-- + + +DEAR MISS NEVIL,--Pray assure your uncle from me that I am quite +ready to guarantee, in any form that he may require, the undertaking +represented to him by Mr. John Somers. Yours very truly, + +ROBERT RUSHBROOK. + + +A quick flush mounted to the young girl's cheeks. "But this is a +SECURITY, Mr. Rushbrook," she said proudly, handing him back the paper, +"and my uncle does not require that. Nor shall I insult him or you by +sending it." + +"It is BUSINESS, Miss Nevil," said Rushbrook, gravely. He stopped, and +fixed his eyes upon her animated face and sparkling eyes. "You can send +it to him or not, as you like. But"--a rare smile came to his handsome +mouth--"as this is a letter to YOU, you must not insult ME by not +accepting it." + +Replying to his smile rather than the words that accompanied it, Miss +Nevil smiled, too. Nevertheless, she was uneasy and disturbed. The +interview, whatever she might have vaguely expected from it, had +resolved itself simply into a business indorsement of her lover, which +she had not sought, and which gave her no satisfaction. Yet there was +the same potent and indefinably protecting presence before her which she +had sought, but whose omniscience and whose help she seemed to have lost +the spell and courage to put to the test. He relieved her in his abrupt +but not unkindly fashion. "Well, when is it to be?" + +"It?" + +"Your marriage." + +"Oh, not for some time. There's no hurry." + +It might have struck the practical Mr. Rushbrook that, even considered +as a desirable business affair, the prospective completion of +this contract provoked neither frank satisfaction nor conventional +dissimulation on the part of the young lady, for he regarded her calm +but slightly wearied expression fixedly. But he only said: "Then I shall +say nothing of this interview to Mr. Leyton?" + +"As you please. It really matters little. Indeed, I suppose I was rather +foolish in coming at all, and wasting your valuable time for nothing." + +She had risen, as if taking his last question in the significance of a +parting suggestion, and was straightening her tall figure, preparatory +to putting on her cloak. As she reached it, he stepped forward, and +lifted it from the chair to assist her. The act was so unprecedented, as +Mr. Rushbrook never indulged in those minor masculine courtesies, that +she was momentarily as confused as a younger girl at the gallantry of a +younger man. In their previous friendship he had seldom drawn near her +except to shake her hand--a circumstance that had always recurred to her +when his free and familiar life had been the subject of gossip. But she +now had a more frightened consciousness that her nerves were strangely +responding to his powerful propinquity, and she involuntarily contracted +her pretty shoulders as he gently laid the cloak upon them. Yet even +when the act was completed, she had a superstitious instinct that the +significance of this rare courtesy was that it was final, and that +he had helped her to interpose something that shut him out from her +forever. + +She was turning away with a heightened color, when the sound of light, +hurried footsteps, and the rustle of a woman's dress was heard in the +hall. A swift recollection of her companion's infelicitous reputation +now returned to her, and Grace Nevil, with a slight stiffening of her +whole frame, became coldly herself again. Mr. Rushbrook betrayed neither +surprise nor agitation. Begging her to wait a moment until he could +arrange for her to pass to her carriage unnoticed, he left the room. + +Yet it seemed that the cause of the disturbance was unsuspected by Mr. +Rushbrook. Mr. Leyton, although left to the consolation of cigars and +liquors in the blue room, had become slightly weary of his companion's +prolonged absence. Satisfied in his mind that Rushbrook had joined +the gayer party, and that he was even now paying gallant court to the +Signora, he became again curious and uneasy. At last the unmistakable +sound of whispering voices in the passage got the better of his sense of +courtesy as a guest, and he rose from his seat, and slightly opened the +door. As he did so the figures of a man and woman, conversing in earnest +whispers, passed the opening. The man's arm was round the woman's +waist; the woman was--as he had suspected--the one who had stood in the +doorway, the Signora--but--the man was NOT Rushbrook. Mr. Leyton drew +back this time in unaffected horror. It was none other than Jack Somers! + +Some warning instinct must at that moment have struck the woman, for +with a stifled cry she disengaged herself from Somers's arm, and dashed +rapidly down the hall. Somers, evidently unaware of the cause, stood +irresolute for a moment, and then more silently but swiftly disappeared +into a side corridor as if to intercept her. It was the rapid passage of +the Signora that had attracted the attention of Grace and Rushbrook in +the study, and it was the moment after it that Mr. Rushbrook left. + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Vaguely uneasy, and still perplexed with her previous agitation, as Mr. +Rushbrook closed the door behind him, Grace, following some feminine +instinct rather than any definite reason, walked to the door and placed +her hand upon the lock to prevent any intrusion until he returned. +Her caution seemed to be justified a moment later, for a heavier but +stealthier footstep halted outside. The handle of the door was turned, +but she resisted it with the fullest strength of her small hand until a +voice, which startled her, called in a hurried whisper:-- + +"Open quick, 'tis I." + +She stepped back quickly, flung the door open, and beheld Somers on the +threshold! + +The astonishment, agitation, and above all, the awkward confusion of +this usually self-possessed and ready man, was so unlike him, and withal +so painful, that Grace hurried to put an end to it, and for an instant +forgot her own surprise at seeing him. She smiled assuringly, and +extended her hand. + +"Grace--Miss Nevil--I beg your pardon--I didn't imagine"--he began with +a forced laugh. "I mean, of course--I cannot--but"--He stopped, and then +assuming a peculiar expression, said: "But what are YOU doing here?" + +At any other moment the girl would have resented the tone, which was +as new to her as his previous agitation, but in her present +self-consciousness her situation seemed to require some explanation. +"I came here," she said, "to see Mr. Rushbrook on business. Your +business--OUR business," she added, with a charming smile, using for the +first time the pronoun that seemed to indicate their unity and interest, +and yet fully aware of a vague insincerity in doing so. + +"Our BUSINESS?" he repeated, ignoring her gentler meaning with a changed +emphasis and a look of suspicion. + +"Yes," said Grace, a little impatiently. "Mr. Leyton thought he ought +to write to my uncle something positive as to your prospects with Mr. +Rushbrook, and"-- + +"You came here to inquire?" said the young man, sharply. + +"I came here to stop any inquiry," said Grace, indignantly. "I came +here to say I was satisfied with what you had confided to me of Mr. +Rushbrook's generosity, and that was enough!" + +"With what I had confided to you? You dared say that?" + +Grace stopped, and instantly faced him. But any indignation she might +have felt at his speech and manner was swallowed up in the revulsion and +horror that overtook her with the sudden revelation she saw in his +white and frightened face. Leyton's strange inquiry, Rushbrook's cold +composure and scornful acceptance of her own credulousness, came to her +in a flash of shameful intelligence. Somers had lied! The insufferable +meanness of it! A lie, whose very uselessness and ignobility had +defeated its purpose--a lie that implied the basest suspicion of her +own independence and truthfulness--such a lie now stood out as plainly +before her as his guilty face. + +"Forgive my speaking so rudely," he said with a forced smile and attempt +to recover his self-control, "but you have ruined me unless you deny +that I told you anything. It was a joke--an extravagance that I had +forgotten; at least, it was a confidence between you and me that you +have foolishly violated. Say that you misunderstood me--that it was a +fancy of your own. Say anything--he trusts you--he'll believe anything +you say." + +"He HAS believed me," said Grace, almost fiercely, turning upon him with +the paper that Rushbrook had given her in her outstretched hand. "Read +that!" + +He read it. Had he blushed, had he stammered, had he even kept up his +former frantic and pitiable attitude, she might at that supreme moment +have forgiven him. But to her astonishment his face changed, his +handsome brow cleared, his careless, happy smile returned, his graceful +confidence came back--he stood before her the elegant, courtly, and +accomplished gentleman she had known. He returned her the paper, and +advancing with extended hand, said triumphantly:-- + +"Superb! Splendid! No one but a woman could think of that! And only one +woman achieve it. You have tricked the great Rushbrook. You are indeed +worthy of being a financier's wife!" + +"No," she said passionately, tearing up the paper and throwing it at his +feet; "not as YOU understand it--and never YOURS! You have debased and +polluted everything connected with it, as you would have debased and +polluted ME. Out of my presence that you are insulting--out of the room +of the man whose magnanimity you cannot understand!" + +The destruction of the guarantee apparently stung him more than the +words that accompanied it. He did not relapse again into his former +shamefaced terror, but as a malignant glitter came into his eyes, he +regained his coolness. + +"It may not be so difficult for others to understand, Miss Nevil," he +said, with polished insolence, "and as Bob Rushbrook's generosity to +pretty women is already a matter of suspicion, perhaps you are wise to +destroy that record of it." + +"Coward!" said Grace, "stand aside and let me pass!" She swept by him +to the door. But it opened upon Rushbrook's re-entrance. He stood for +an instant glancing at the pair, and then on the fragments of the paper +that strewed the floor. Then, still holding the door in his hand, he +said quietly:-- + +"One moment before you go, Miss Nevil. If this is the result of any +misunderstanding as to the presence of another woman here, in company +with Mr. Somers, it is only fair to him to say that that woman is here +as a friend of MINE, not of his, and I alone am responsible." + +Grace halted, and turned the cold steel of her proud eyes on the two +men. As they rested on Rushbrook they quivered slightly. "I can already +bear witness," she said coldly, "to the generosity of Mr. Rushbrook in +a matter which then touched me. But there certainly is no necessity +for him to show it now in a matter in which I have not the slightest +concern." + +As she swept out of the room and was received in the respectable shadow +of the waiting James, Rushbrook turned to Somers. + +"And I'M afraid it won't do--for Leyton saw you," he said curtly. "Now, +then, shut that door, for you and I, Jack Somers, have a word to say to +each other." + +What that word was, and how it was said and received, is not a part of +this record. But it is told that it was the beginning of that mighty +Iliad, still remembered of men, which shook the financial camps of San +Francisco, and divided them into bitter contending parties. For when it +became known the next day that Somers had suddenly abandoned Rushbrook, +and carried over to a powerful foreign capitalist the secret methods, +and even, it was believed, the LUCK of his late employer, it was certain +that there would be war to the knife, and that it was no longer a +struggle of rival enterprise, but of vindictive men. + + +CHAPTER VII + + +For a year the battle between the Somers faction and the giant but +solitary Rushbrook raged fiercely, with varying success. I grieve to say +that the proteges and parasites of Maecenas deserted him in a body; nay, +they openly alleged that it was the true artistic nature and refinement +of Somers that had always attracted them, and that a man like Rushbrook, +who bought pictures by the yard,--equally of the unknown struggling +artist and the famous masters,--was no true patron of Art. Rushbrook +made no attempt to recover his lost prestige, and once, when squeezed +into a tight "corner," and forced to realize on his treasures, he put +them up at auction and the people called them "daubs;" their rage +knew no bounds. It was then that an unfettered press discovered that +Rushbrook never was a Maecenas at all, grimly deprecated his assumption +of that title, and even doubted if he were truly a millionaire. It was +at this time that a few stood by him--notably, the mill inventor from +Siskyou, grown plethoric with success, but eventually ground between the +upper and nether millstone of the Somers and Rushbrook party. Miss Nevil +had returned to the Atlantic States with Mrs. Leyton. While rumors +had played freely with the relations of Somers and the Signora as the +possible cause of the rupture between him and Rushbrook, no mention had +ever been made of the name of Miss Nevil. + +It was raining heavily one afternoon, when Mr. Rushbrook drove from his +office to his San Francisco house. The fierce struggle in which he was +engaged left him little time for hospitality, and for the last two weeks +his house had been comparatively deserted. He passed through the +empty rooms, changed in little except the absence of some valuable +monstrosities which had gone to replenish his capital. When he reached +his bedroom, he paused a moment at the open door. + +"James!" + +"Yes, sir," said James, appearing out of the shadow. + +"What are you waiting for?" + +"I thought you might be wanting something, sir." + +"You were waiting there this morning; you were in the ante-room of my +study while I was writing. You were outside the blue room while I sat +at breakfast. You were at my elbow in the drawing-room late last night. +Now, James," continued Mr. Rushbrook, with his usual grave directness, +"I don't intend to commit suicide; I can't afford it, so keep your time +and your rest for yourself--you want it--that's a good fellow." + +"Yes, sir." + +"James!" + +"Yes, sir." + +Rushbrook extended his hand. There was that faint, rare smile on his +handsome mouth, for which James would at any time have laid down his +life. But he only silently grasped his master's hand, and the two +men remained looking into each other's eyes without a word. Then Mr. +Rushbrook entered his room, lay down, and went to sleep, and James +vanished in the shadow. + +At the end of an hour Mr. Rushbrook awoke refreshed, and even James, who +came to call him, appeared to have brightened in the interval. "I have +ordered a fire, sir, in the reserved room, the one fitted up from Los +Osos, as your study has had no chance of being cleaned these two weeks. +It will be a change for you, sir. I hope you'll excuse my not waking you +to consult you about it." + +Rushbrook remained so silent that James, fancying he had not heard him, +was about to repeat himself when his master said quickly, "Very well, +come for me there when dinner is ready," and entered the passage leading +to the room. James did not follow him, and when Mr. Rushbrook, opening +the door, started back with an exclamation, no one but the inmate heard +the word that rose to his lips. + +For there, seated before the glow of the blazing fire, was Miss Grace +Nevil. She had evidently just arrived, for her mantle was barely +loosened around her neck, and upon the fringe of brown hair between her +bonnet and her broad, low forehead a few drops of rain still sparkled. +As she lifted her long lashes quickly towards the door, it seemed as +if they, too, had caught a little of that moisture. Rushbrook moved +impatiently forward, and then stopped. Grace rose unhesitatingly to her +feet, and met him half-way with frankly outstretched hands. "First of +all," she said, with a half nervous laugh, "don't scold James; it's all +my fault; I forbade him to announce me, lest you should drive me away, +for I heard that during this excitement you came here for rest, and saw +no one. Even the intrusion into this room is all my own. I confess now +that I saw it the last night I was here; I was anxious to know if it was +unchanged, and made James bring me here. I did not understand it then. I +do now--and--thank you." + +Her face must have shown that she was conscious that he was still +holding her hand, for he suddenly released it. With a heightened color +and a half girlish naivete, that was the more charming for its contrast +with her tall figure and air of thoroughbred repose, she turned back to +her chair, and lightly motioned him to take the one before her. "I am +here on BUSINESS; otherwise I should not have dared to look in upon you +at all." + +She stopped, drew off her gloves with a provoking deliberation, which +was none the less fascinating that it implied a demure consciousness of +inducing some impatience in the breast of her companion, stretched them +out carefully by the fingers, laid them down neatly on the table, +placed her elbows on her knees, slightly clasped her hands together, and +bending forward, lifted her honest, handsome eyes to the man before her. + +"Mr. Rushbrook, I have got between four and five hundred thousand +dollars that I have no use for; I can control securities which can be +converted, if necessary, into a hundred thousand more in ten days. I am +free and my own mistress. It is generally considered that I know what I +am about--you admitted as much when I was your pupil. I have come here +to place this sum in your hands, at your free disposal. You know why and +for what purpose." + +"But what do you know of my affairs?" asked Rushbrook, quickly. + +"Everything, and I know YOU, which is better. Call it an investment if +you like--for I know you will succeed--and let me share your profits. +Call it--if you please--restitution, for I am the miserable cause of +your rupture with that man. Or call it revenge if you like," she said +with a faint smile, "and let me fight at your side against our common +enemy! Please, Mr. Rushbrook, don't deny me this. I have come three +thousand miles for it; I could have sent it to you--or written--but I +feared you would not understand it. You are smiling--you will take it?" + +"I cannot," said Rushbrook, gravely. + +"Then you force me to go into the Stock Market myself, and fight for +you, and, unaided by YOUR genius, perhaps lose it without benefiting +you." + +Rushbrook did not reply. + +"At least, then, tell me why you 'cannot.'" + +Rushbrook rose, and looking into her face, said quietly with his old +directness:-- + +"Because I love you, Miss Nevil." + +A sudden instinct to rise and move away, a greater one to remain and +hear him speak again, and a still greater one to keep back the blood +that she felt was returning all too quickly to her cheek after the first +shock, kept her silent. But she dropped her eyes. + +"I loved you ever since I first saw you at Los Osos," he went on +quickly; "I said to myself even then, that if there was a woman that +would fill my life, and make me what she wished me to be, it was you. I +even fancied that day that you understood me better than any woman, or +even any man, that I had ever met before. I loved you through all that +miserable business with that man, even when my failure to make you happy +with another brought me no nearer to you. I have loved you always. I +shall love you always. I love you more for this foolish kindness that +brings YOU beneath my roof once more, and gives me a chance to speak my +heart to you, if only once and for the last time, than all the fortune +that you could put at my disposal. But I could not accept what you would +offer me from any woman who was not my wife--and I could not marry +any woman that did not love me. I am perhaps past the age when I could +inspire a young girl's affection; but I have not reached the age when I +would accept anything less." He stopped abruptly. Grace did not look +up. There was a tear glistening upon her long eyelashes, albeit a faint +smile played upon her lips. + +"Do you call this business, Mr. Rushbrook?" she said softly. + +"Business?" + +"To assume a proposal declined before it has been offered." + +"Grace--my darling--tell me--is it possible?" + +It was too late for her to rise now, as his hands held both hers, and +his handsome mouth was smiling level with her own. So it really seemed +to a dispassionate spectator that it WAS possible, and before she had +left the room, it even appeared to be the most probable thing in the +world. + +***** + +The union of Grace Nevil and Robert Rushbrook was recorded by local +history as the crown to his victory over the Ring. But only he and his +wife knew that it was the cause. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS *** + +***** This file should be named 2867.txt or 2867.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/6/2867/ + +Produced by Donald Lainson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at +http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://pglaf.org + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://pglaf.org + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/2867.zip b/2867.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f57490e --- /dev/null +++ b/2867.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..fe11dd7 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #2867 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2867) diff --git a/old/asogs10.txt b/old/asogs10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f228016 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/asogs10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6654 @@ +Project Gutenberg Etext A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte +#48 in our series by Bret Harte + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the laws for your country before redistributing these files!!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + +This should be the first thing seen when anyone opens the book. +Do not change or edit it without written permission. The words +are carefully chosen to provide users with the information they +need about what they can legally do with the texts. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. We need your donations. + +Presently, contributions are only being solicited from people in: +Texas, Nevada, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota, +Iowa, Indiana, and Vermont. As the requirements for other states +are met, additions to this list will be made and fund raising will +begin in the additional states. These donations should be made to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Ave. +Oxford, MS 38655 + + +Title: A Sappho of Green Springs + +Author: Bret Harte + +October, 2001 [Etext #2867] +[Yes, we are about one year ahead of schedule] + +Edition: 10 + +Project Gutenberg Etext A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte +******This file should be named asogs10.txt or asogs10.zip****** + +Corrected EDITIONS of our etexts get a new NUMBER, asogs11.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, asogs10a.txt + + +This etext was prepared by Donald Lainson, charlie@idirect.com. + + +Project Gutenberg Etexts are usually created from multiple editions, +all of which are in the Public Domain in the United States, unless a +copyright notice is included. Therefore, we usually do NOT keep any +of these books in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +We are now trying to release all our books one year in advance +of the official release dates, leaving time for better editing. +Please be encouraged to send us error messages even years after +the official publication date. + +Please note: neither this list nor its contents are final till +midnight of the last day of the month of any such announcement. +The official release date of all Project Gutenberg Etexts is at +Midnight, Central Time, of the last day of the stated month. A +preliminary version may often be posted for suggestion, comment +and editing by those who wish to do so. + +Most people start at our sites at: +http://gutenberg.net +http://promo.net/pg + + +Those of you who want to download any Etext before announcement +can surf to them as follows, and just download by date; this is +also a good way to get them instantly upon announcement, as the +indexes our cataloguers produce obviously take a while after an +announcement goes out in the Project Gutenberg Newsletter. + +http://metalab.unc.edu/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext01 +or +ftp://metalab.unc.edu/pub/docs/books/gutenberg/etext01 + +Or /etext00, 99, 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90 + +Just search by the first five letters of the filename you want, +as it appears in our Newsletters. + + +Information about Project Gutenberg (one page) + +We produce about two million dollars for each hour we work. The +time it takes us, a rather conservative estimate, is fifty hours +to get any etext selected, entered, proofread, edited, copyright +searched and analyzed, the copyright letters written, etc. This +projected audience is one hundred million readers. If our value +per text is nominally estimated at one dollar then we produce $2 +million dollars per hour this year as we release fifty new Etext +files per month, or 500 more Etexts in 2000 for a total of 3000+ +If they reach just 1-2% of the world's population then the total +should reach over 300 billion Etexts given away by year's end. + +The Goal of Project Gutenberg is to Give Away One Trillion Etext +Files by December 31, 2001. [10,000 x 100,000,000 = 1 Trillion] +This is ten thousand titles each to one hundred million readers, +which is only about 4% of the present number of computer users. + +At our revised rates of production, we will reach only one-third +of that goal by the end of 2001, or about 3,333 Etexts unless we +manage to get some real funding. + +Something is needed to create a future for Project Gutenberg for +the next 100 years. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +Presently, contributions are only being solicited from people in: +Texas, Nevada, Idaho, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota, +Iowa, Indiana, and Vermont. As the requirements for other states +are met, additions to this list will be made and fund raising will +begin in the additional states. + +All donations should be made to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and will be tax deductible to the extent +permitted by law. + +Mail to: + +Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +PMB 113 +1739 University Avenue +Oxford, MS 38655 [USA] + +We are working with the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation to build more stable support and ensure the +future of Project Gutenberg. + +We need your donations more than ever! + +You can get up to date donation information at: + +http://www.gutenberg.net/donation.html + + +*** + +You can always email directly to: + +Michael S. Hart <hart@pobox.com> + +hart@pobox.com forwards to hart@prairienet.org and archive.org +if your mail bounces from archive.org, I will still see it, if +it bounces from prairienet.org, better resend later on. . . . + +We would prefer to send you this information by email. + + +Example command-line FTP session: + +ftp metalab.unc.edu +login: anonymous +password: your@login +cd pub/docs/books/gutenberg +cd etext90 through etext99 or etext00 through etext01, etc. +dir [to see files] +get or mget [to get files. . .set bin for zip files] +GET GUTINDEX.?? [to get a year's listing of books, e.g., GUTINDEX.99] +GET GUTINDEX.ALL [to get a listing of ALL books] + + +**The Legal Small Print** + + +(Three Pages) + +***START**THE SMALL PRINT!**FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS**START*** +Why is this "Small Print!" statement here? You know: lawyers. +They tell us you might sue us if there is something wrong with +your copy of this etext, even if you got it for free from +someone other than us, and even if what's wrong is not our +fault. So, among other things, this "Small Print!" statement +disclaims most of our liability to you. It also tells you how +you can distribute copies of this etext if you want to. + +*BEFORE!* YOU USE OR READ THIS ETEXT +By using or reading any part of this PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm +etext, you indicate that you understand, agree to and accept +this "Small Print!" statement. If you do not, you can receive +a refund of the money (if any) you paid for this etext by +sending a request within 30 days of receiving it to the person +you got it from. If you received this etext on a physical +medium (such as a disk), you must return it with your request. + +ABOUT PROJECT GUTENBERG-TM ETEXTS +This PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext, like most PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etexts, +is a "public domain" work distributed by Professor Michael S. Hart +through the Project Gutenberg Association (the "Project"). +Among other things, this means that no one owns a United States copyright +on or for this work, so the Project (and you!) can copy and +distribute it in the United States without permission and +without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, set forth +below, apply if you wish to copy and distribute this etext +under the Project's "PROJECT GUTENBERG" trademark. + +To create these etexts, the Project expends considerable +efforts to identify, transcribe and proofread public domain +works. Despite these efforts, the Project's etexts and any +medium they may be on may contain "Defects". Among other +things, Defects may take the form of incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged +disk or other etext medium, a computer virus, or computer +codes that damage or cannot be read by your equipment. + +LIMITED WARRANTY; DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES +But for the "Right of Replacement or Refund" described below, +[1] the Project (and any other party you may receive this +etext from as a PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm etext) disclaims all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including +legal fees, and [2] YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE OR +UNDER STRICT LIABILITY, OR FOR BREACH OF WARRANTY OR CONTRACT, +INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE +OR INCIDENTAL DAMAGES, EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE +POSSIBILITY OF SUCH DAMAGES. + +If you discover a Defect in this etext within 90 days of +receiving it, you can receive a refund of the money (if any) +you paid for it by sending an explanatory note within that +time to the person you received it from. If you received it +on a physical medium, you must return it with your note, and +such person may choose to alternatively give you a replacement +copy. If you received it electronically, such person may +choose to alternatively give you a second opportunity to +receive it electronically. + +THIS ETEXT IS OTHERWISE PROVIDED TO YOU "AS-IS". NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, ARE MADE TO YOU AS +TO THE ETEXT OR ANY MEDIUM IT MAY BE ON, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR A +PARTICULAR PURPOSE. + +Some states do not allow disclaimers of implied warranties or +the exclusion or limitation of consequential damages, so the +above disclaimers and exclusions may not apply to you, and you +may have other legal rights. + +INDEMNITY +You will indemnify and hold the Project, its directors, +officers, members and agents harmless from all liability, cost +and expense, including legal fees, that arise directly or +indirectly from any of the following that you do or cause: +[1] distribution of this etext, [2] alteration, modification, +or addition to the etext, or [3] any Defect. + +DISTRIBUTION UNDER "PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm" +You may distribute copies of this etext electronically, or by +disk, book or any other medium if you either delete this +"Small Print!" and all other references to Project Gutenberg, +or: + +[1] Only give exact copies of it. Among other things, this + requires that you do not remove, alter or modify the + etext or this "small print!" statement. You may however, + if you wish, distribute this etext in machine readable + binary, compressed, mark-up, or proprietary form, + including any form resulting from conversion by word + processing or hypertext software, but only so long as + *EITHER*: + + [*] The etext, when displayed, is clearly readable, and + does *not* contain characters other than those + intended by the author of the work, although tilde + (~), asterisk (*) and underline (_) characters may + be used to convey punctuation intended by the + author, and additional characters may be used to + indicate hypertext links; OR + + [*] The etext may be readily converted by the reader at + no expense into plain ASCII, EBCDIC or equivalent + form by the program that displays the etext (as is + the case, for instance, with most word processors); + OR + + [*] You provide, or agree to also provide on request at + no additional cost, fee or expense, a copy of the + etext in its original plain ASCII form (or in EBCDIC + or other equivalent proprietary form). + +[2] Honor the etext refund and replacement provisions of this + "Small Print!" statement. + +[3] Pay a trademark license fee to the Project of 20% of the + gross profits you derive calculated using the method you + already use to calculate your applicable taxes. If you + don't derive profits, no royalty is due. Royalties are + payable to "Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation" + the 60 days following each date you prepare (or were + legally required to prepare) your annual (or equivalent + periodic) tax return. Please contact us beforehand to + let us know your plans and to work out the details. + +WHAT IF YOU *WANT* TO SEND MONEY EVEN IF YOU DON'T HAVE TO? +The Project gratefully accepts contributions of money, time, +public domain etexts, and royalty free copyright licenses. +If you are interested in contributing scanning equipment or +software or other items, please contact Michael Hart at: +hart@pobox.com + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.07.00*END* + + + + + +*END THE SMALL PRINT! FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + +A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + +by + +Bret Harte + + + + +CONTENTS + + +A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + +THE CHATELAINE OF BURNT RIDGE + +THROUGH THE SANTA CLARA WHEAT + +A MAECENAS OF THE PACIFIC SLOPE + + + + +A SAPPHO OF GREEN SPRINGS + + +CHAPTER I + + +"Come in," said the editor. + +The door of the editorial room of the "Excelsior Magazine" began to +creak painfully under the hesitating pressure of an uncertain and +unfamiliar hand. This continued until with a start of irritation +the editor faced directly about, throwing his leg over the arm of +his chair with a certain youthful dexterity. With one hand +gripping its back, the other still grasping a proof-slip, and his +pencil in his mouth, he stared at the intruder. + +The stranger, despite his hesitating entrance, did not seem in the +least disconcerted. He was a tall man, looking even taller by +reason of the long formless overcoat he wore, known as a "duster," +and by a long straight beard that depended from his chin, which he +combed with two reflective fingers as he contemplated the editor. +The red dust which still lay in the creases of his garment and in +the curves of his soft felt hat, and left a dusty circle like a +precipitated halo around his feet, proclaimed him, if not a +countryman, a recent inland importation by coach. "Busy?" he said, +in a grave but pleasant voice. "I kin wait. Don't mind ME. Go +on." + +The editor indicated a chair with his disengaged hand and plunged +again into his proof-slips. The stranger surveyed the scant +furniture and appointments of the office with a look of grave +curiosity, and then, taking a chair, fixed an earnest, penetrating +gaze on the editor's profile. The editor felt it, and, without +looking up, said-- + +"Well, go on." + +"But you're busy. I kin wait." + +"I shall not be less busy this morning. I can listen." + +"I want you to give me the name of a certain person who writes in +your magazine." + +The editor's eye glanced at the second right-hand drawer of his +desk. It did not contain the names of his contributors, but what +in the traditions of his office was accepted as an equivalent,--a +revolver. He had never yet presented either to an inquirer. But +he laid aside his proofs, and, with a slight darkening of his +youthful, discontented face, said, "What do you want to know for?" + +The question was so evidently unexpected that the stranger's face +colored slightly, and he hesitated. The editor meanwhile, without +taking his eyes from the man, mentally ran over the contents of the +last magazine. They had been of a singularly peaceful character. +There seemed to be nothing to justify homicide on his part or the +stranger's. Yet there was no knowing, and his questioner's bucolic +appearance by no means precluded an assault. Indeed, it had been a +legend of the office that a predecessor had suffered vicariously +from a geological hammer covertly introduced into a scientific +controversy by an irate professor. + +"As we make ourselves responsible for the conduct of the magazine," +continued the young editor, with mature severity, "we do not give +up the names of our contributors. If you do not agree with their +opinions"-- + +"But I DO," said the stranger, with his former composure, "and I +reckon that's why I want to know who wrote those verses called +'Underbrush,' signed 'White Violet,' in your last number. They're +pow'ful pretty." + +The editor flushed slightly, and glanced instinctively around for +any unexpected witness of his ludicrous mistake. The fear of +ridicule was uppermost in his mind, and he was more relieved at his +mistake not being overheard than at its groundlessness. + +"The verses ARE pretty," he said, recovering himself, with a +critical air, "and I am glad you like them. But even then, you +know, I could not give you the lady's name without her permission. +I will write to her and ask it, if you like." + +The actual fact was that the verses had been sent to him +anonymously from a remote village in the Coast Range,--the address +being the post-office and the signature initials. + +The stranger looked disturbed. "Then she ain't about here +anywhere?" he said, with a vague gesture. "She don't belong to +the office?" + +The young editor beamed with tolerant superiority: "No, I am sorry +to say." + +"I should like to have got to see her and kinder asked her a few +questions," continued the stranger, with the same reflective +seriousness. "You see, it wasn't just the rhymin' o' them verses,-- +and they kinder sing themselves to ye, don't they?--it wasn't the +chyce o' words,--and I reckon they allus hit the idee in the centre +shot every time,--it wasn't the idees and moral she sort o' drew +out o' what she was tellin',--but it was the straight thing +itself,--the truth!" + +"The truth?" repeated the editor. + +"Yes, sir. I've bin there. I've seen all that she's seen in the +brush--the little flicks and checkers o' light and shadder down in +the brown dust that you wonder how it ever got through the dark of +the woods, and that allus seems to slip away like a snake or a +lizard if you grope. I've heard all that she's heard there--the +creepin', the sighin', and the whisperin' through the bracken and +the ground-vines of all that lives there." + +"You seem to be a poet yourself," said the editor, with a +patronizing smile. + +"I'm a lumberman, up in Mendocino," returned the stranger, with +sublime naivete. "Got a mill there. You see, sightin' standin' +timber and selectin' from the gen'ral show of the trees in the +ground and the lay of roots hez sorter made me take notice." He +paused. "Then," he added, somewhat despondingly, "you don't know +who she is?" + +"No," said the editor, reflectively; "not even if it is really a +WOMAN who writes." + +"Eh?" + +"Well, you see, 'White Violet' may as well be the nom de plume of a +man as of a woman, especially if adopted for the purpose of +mystification. The handwriting, I remember, WAS more boyish than +feminine." + +"No," returned the stranger doggedly, "it wasn't no MAN. There's +ideas and words there that only come from a woman: baby-talk to the +birds, you know, and a kind of fearsome keer of bugs and creepin' +things that don't come to a man who wears boots and trousers. +Well," he added, with a return to his previous air of resigned +disappointment, "I suppose you don't even know what she's like?" + +"No," responded the editor, cheerfully. Then, following an idea +suggested by the odd mingling of sentiment and shrewd perception in +the man before him, he added: "Probably not at all like anything +you imagine. She may be a mother with three or four children; or +an old maid who keeps a boarding-house; or a wrinkled school- +mistress; or a chit of a school-girl. I've had some fair verses +from a red-haired girl of fourteen at the Seminary," he concluded +with professional coolness. + +The stranger regarded him with the naive wonder of an inexperienced +man. Having paid this tribute to his superior knowledge, he +regained his previous air of grave perception. "I reckon she ain't +none of them. But I'm keepin' you from your work. Good-by. My +name's Bowers--Jim Bowers, of Mendocino. If you're up my way, give +me a call. And if you do write to this yer 'White Violet,' and +she's willin', send me her address." + +He shook the editor's hand warmly--even in its literal significance +of imparting a good deal of his own earnest caloric to the editor's +fingers--and left the room. His footfall echoed along the passage +and died out, and with it, I fear, all impression of his visit from +the editor's mind, as he plunged again into the silent task before +him. + +Presently he was conscious of a melodious humming and a light +leisurely step at the entrance of the hall. They continued on in +an easy harmony and unaffected as the passage of a bird. Both were +pleasant and both familiar to the editor. They belonged to Jack +Hamlin, by vocation a gambler, by taste a musician, on his way from +his apartments on the upper floor, where he had just risen, to drop +into his friend's editorial room and glance over the exchanges, as +was his habit before breakfast. + +The door opened lightly. The editor was conscious of a faint odor +of scented soap, a sensation of freshness and cleanliness, the +impression of a soft hand like a woman's on his shoulder and, like +a woman's, momentarily and playfully caressing, the passage of a +graceful shadow across his desk, and the next moment Jack Hamlin +was ostentatiously dusting a chair with an open newspaper +preparatory to sitting down. + +"You ought to ship that office-boy of yours, if he can't keep +things cleaner," he said, suspending his melody to eye grimly the +dust which Mr. Bowers had shaken from his departing feet. + +The editor did not look up until he had finished revising a +difficult paragraph. By that time Mr. Hamlin had comfortably +settled himself on a cane sofa, and, possibly out of deference to +his surroundings, had subdued his song to a peculiarly low, soft, +and heartbreaking whistle as he unfolded a newspaper. Clean and +faultless in his appearance, he had the rare gift of being able to +get up at two in the afternoon with much of the dewy freshness and +all of the moral superiority of an early riser. + +"You ought to have been here just now, Jack," said the editor. + +"Not a row, old man, eh?" inquired Jack, with a faint accession of +interest. + +"No," said the editor, smiling. Then he related the incidents of +the previous interview, with a certain humorous exaggeration which +was part of his nature. But Jack did not smile. + +"You ought to have booted him out of the ranch on sight," he said. +"What right had he to come here prying into a lady's affairs?--at +least a lady as far as HE knows. Of course she's some old blowzy +with frumpled hair trying to rope in a greenhorn with a string of +words and phrases," concluded Jack, carelessly, who had an equally +cynical distrust of the sex and of literature. + +"That's about what I told him," said the editor. + +"That's just what you SHOULDN'T have told him," returned Jack. +"You ought to have stuck up for that woman as if she'd been your +own mother. Lord! you fellows don't know how to run a magazine. +You ought to let ME sit on that chair and tackle your customers." + +"What would you have done, Jack?" asked the editor, much amused to +find that his hitherto invincible hero was not above the ordinary +human weakness of offering advice as to editorial conduct. + +"Done?" reflected Jack. "Well, first, sonny, I shouldn't keep a +revolver in a drawer that I had to OPEN to get at." + +"But what would you have said?" + +"I should simply have asked him what was the price of lumber at +Mendocino," said Jack, sweetly, "and when he told me, I should have +said that the samples he was offering out of his own head wouldn't +suit. You see, you don't want any trifling in such matters. You +write well enough, my boy," continued he, turning over his paper, +"but what you're lacking in is editorial dignity. But go on with +your work. Don't mind me." + +Thus admonished, the editor again bent over his desk, and his +friend softly took up his suspended song. The editor had not +proceeded far in his corrections when Jack's voice again broke the +silence. + +"Where are those d----d verses, anyway?" + +Without looking up, the editor waved his pencil towards an uncut +copy of the "Excelsior Magazine" lying on the table. + +"You don't suppose I'm going to READ them, do you?" said Jack, +aggrievedly. "Why don't you say what they're about? That's your +business as editor." + +But that functionary, now wholly lost and wandering in the non- +sequitur of an involved passage in the proof before him, only waved +an impatient remonstrance with his pencil and knit his brows. +Jack, with a sigh, took up the magazine. + +A long silence followed, broken only by the hurried rustling of +sheets of copy and an occasional exasperated start from the editor. +The sun was already beginning to slant a dusty beam across his +desk; Jack's whistling had long since ceased. Presently, with an +exclamation of relief, the editor laid aside the last proof-sheet +and looked up. + +Jack Hamlin had closed the magazine, but with one hand thrown over +the back of the sofa he was still holding it, his slim forefinger +between its leaves to keep the place, and his handsome profile and +dark lashes lifted towards the window. The editor, smiling at this +unwonted abstraction, said quietly,-- + +"Well, what do you think of them?" + +Jack rose, laid the magazine down, settled his white waistcoat with +both hands, and lounged towards his friend with audacious but +slightly veiled and shining eyes. "They sort of sing themselves to +you," he said, quietly, leaning beside the editor's desk, and +looking down upon him. After a pause he said, "Then you don't know +what she's like?" + +"That's what Mr. Bowers asked me," remarked the editor. + +"D--n Bowers!" + +"I suppose you also wish me to write and ask for permission to give +you her address?" said the editor, with great gravity. + +"No," said Jack, coolly. "I propose to give it to YOU within a +week, and you will pay me with a breakfast. I should like to have +it said that I was once a paid contributor to literature. If I +don't give it to you, I'll stand you a dinner, that's all." + +"Done!" said the editor. "And you know nothing of her now?" + +"No," said Jack, promptly. "Nor you?" + +"No more than I have told you." + +"That'll do. So long!" And Jack, carefully adjusting his glossy +hat over his curls at an ominously wicked angle, sauntered lightly +from the room. The editor, glancing after his handsome figure and +hearing him take up his pretermitted whistle as he passed out, +began to think that the contingent dinner was by no means an +inevitable prospect. + +Howbeit, he plunged once more into his monotonous duties. But the +freshness of the day seemed to have departed with Jack, and the +later interruptions of foreman and publisher were of a more +practical character. It was not until the post arrived that the +superscription on one of the letters caught his eye, and revived +his former interest. It was the same hand as that of his unknown +contributor's manuscript--ill-formed and boyish. He opened the +envelope. It contained another poem with the same signature, but +also a note--much longer than the brief lines that accompanied the +first contribution--was scrawled upon a separate piece of paper. +This the editor opened first, and read the following, with an +amazement that for the moment dominated all other sense:-- + + +MR. EDITOR,--I see you have got my poetry in. But I don't see the +spondulix that oughter follow. Perhaps you don't know where to +send it. Then I'll tell you. Send the money to Lock Box 47, Green +Springs P. O., per Wells Fargo's Express, and I'll get it there, on +account of my parents not knowing. We're very high-toned, and they +would think it's low making poetry for papers. Send amount usually +paid for poetry in your papers. Or may be you think I make poetry +for nothing? That's where you slip up! + + Yours truly, WHITE VIOLET. + +P. S.--If you don't pay for poetry, send this back. It's as good +as what you did put in, and is just as hard to make. You hear me? +that's me--all the time. + + WHITE VIOLET. + + +The editor turned quickly to the new contribution for some +corroboration of what he felt must be an extraordinary blunder. +But no! The few lines that he hurriedly read breathed the same +atmosphere of intellectual repose, gentleness, and imagination as +the first contribution. And yet they were in the same handwriting +as the singular missive, and both were identical with the previous +manuscript. + +Had he been the victim of a hoax, and were the verses not original? +No; they were distinctly original, local in color, and even local +in the use of certain old English words that were common in the +Southwest. He had before noticed the apparent incongruity of the +handwriting and the text, and it was possible that for the purposes +of disguise the poet might have employed an amanuensis. But how +could he reconcile the incongruity of the mercenary and slangy +purport of the missive itself with the mental habit of its author? +Was it possible that these inconsistent qualities existed in the +one individual? He smiled grimly as he thought of his visitor +Bowers and his friend Jack. He was startled as he remembered the +purely imaginative picture he had himself given to the seriously +interested Bowers of the possible incongruous personality of the +poetess. + +Was he quite fair in keeping this from Jack? Was it really +honorable, in view of their wager? It is to be feared that a very +human enjoyment of Jack's possible discomfiture quite as much as +any chivalrous friendship impelled the editor to ring eventually +for the office-boy. + +"See if Mr. Hamlin is in his rooms." + +The editor then sat down, and wrote rapidly as follows:-- + + +DEAR MADAM,--You are as right as you are generous in supposing that +only ignorance of your address prevented the manager from +previously remitting the honorarium for your beautiful verses. He +now begs to send it to you in the manner you have indicated. As +the verses have attracted deserved attention, I have been applied +to for your address. Should you care to submit it to me to be used +at my discretion, I shall feel honored by your confidence. But +this is a matter left entirely to your own kindness and better +judgment. Meantime, I take pleasure in accepting "White Violet's" +present contribution, and remain, dear madam, your obedient servant, + + THE EDITOR. + + +The boy returned as he was folding the letter. Mr. Hamlin was not +only NOT in his rooms, but, according to his negro servant Pete, +had left town an hour ago for a few days in the country. + +"Did he say where?" asked the editor, quickly. + +"No, sir: he didn't know." + +"Very well. Take this to the manager." He addressed the letter, +and, scrawling a few hieroglyphics on a memorandum-tag, tore it +off, and handed it with the letter to the boy. + +An hour later he stood in the manager's office. "The next number +is pretty well made up," he said, carelessly, "and I think of +taking a day or two off." + +"Certainly," said the manager. "It will do you good. Where do you +think you'll go?" + +"I haven't quite made up my mind." + + +CHAPTER II + + +"Hullo!" said Jack Hamlin. + +He had halted his mare at the edge of an abrupt chasm. It did not +appear to be fifty feet across, yet its depth must have been nearly +two hundred to where the hidden mountain-stream, of which it was +the banks, alternately slipped, tumbled, and fell with murmuring +and monotonous regularity. One or two pine-trees growing on the +opposite edge, loosened at the roots, had tilted their straight +shafts like spears over the abyss, and the top of one, resting on +the upper branches of a sycamore a few yards from him, served as an +aerial bridge for the passage of a boy of fourteen to whom Mr. +Hamlin's challenge was addressed. + +The boy stopped midway in his perilous transit, and, looking down +upon the horseman, responded, coolly, "Hullo, yourself!" + +"Is that the only way across this infernal hole, or the one you +prefer for exercise?" continued Hamlin, gravely. + +The boy sat down on a bough, allowing his bare feet to dangle over +the dizzy depths, and critically examined his questioner. Jack had +on this occasion modified his usual correct conventional attire by +a tasteful combination of a vaquero's costume, and, in loose white +bullion-fringed trousers, red sash, jacket, and sombrero, looked +infinitely more dashing and picturesque than his original. +Nevertheless, the boy did not reply. Mr. Hamlin's pride in his +usual ascendency over women, children, horses, and all unreasoning +animals was deeply nettled. He smiled, however, and said, quietly,-- + +"Come here, George Washington. I want to talk to you." + +Without rejecting this august yet impossible title, the boy +presently lifted his feet, and carelessly resumed his passage +across the chasm until, reaching the sycamore, he began to let +himself down squirrel-wise, leap by leap, with an occasional +trapeze swinging from bough to bough, dropping at last easily to +the ground. Here he appeared to be rather good-looking, albeit the +sun and air had worked a miracle of brown tan and freckles on his +exposed surfaces, until the mottling of his oval cheeks looked like +a polished bird's egg. Indeed, it struck Mr. Hamlin that he was as +intensely a part of that sylvan seclusion as the hidden brook that +murmured, the brown velvet shadows that lay like trappings on the +white flanks of his horse, the quivering heat, and the stinging +spice of bay. Mr. Hamlin had vague ideas of dryads and fauns, but +at that moment would have bet something on the chances of their +survival. + +"I did not hear what you said just now, general," he remarked, with +great elegance of manner, "but I know from your reputation that it +could not be a lie. I therefore gather that there IS another way +across." + +The boy smiled; rather, his very short upper lip apparently +vanished completely over his white teeth, and his very black eyes, +which showed a great deal of the white around them, danced in their +orbits. + +"But YOU couldn't find it," he said, slyly. + +"No more could you find the half-dollar I dropped just now, unless +I helped you." + +Mr. Hamlin, by way of illustration, leaned deeply over his left +stirrup, and pointed to the ground. At the same moment a bright +half-dollar absolutely appeared to glitter in the herbage at the +point of his finger. It was a trick that had always brought great +pleasure and profit to his young friends, and some loss and +discomfiture of wager to his older ones. + +The boy picked up the coin: "There's a dip and a level crossing +about a mile over yer,"--he pointed,--"but it's through the woods, +and they're that high with thick bresh." + +"With what?" + +"Bresh," repeated the boy; "THAT,"--pointing to a few fronds of +bracken growing in the shadow of the sycamore. + +"Oh! underbrush?" + +"Yes; I said 'bresh,'" returned the boy, doggedly. "YOU might get +through, ef you war spry, but not your hoss. Where do you want to +go, anyway?" + +"Do you know, George," said Mr. Hamlin, lazily throwing his right +leg over the horn of his saddle for greater ease and deliberation +in replying, "it's very odd, but that's just what I'D like to know. +Now, what would YOU, in your broad statesmanlike views of things +generally, advise?" + +Quite convinced of the stranger's mental unsoundness, the boy +glanced again at his half-dollar, as if to make sure of its +integrity, pocketed it doubtfully, and turned away. + +"Where are you going?" said Hamlin, resuming his seat with the +agility of a circus-rider, and spurring forward. + +"To Green Springs, where I live, two miles over the ridge on the +far slope,"--indicating the direction. + +"Ah!" said Jack, with thoughtful gravity. "Well, kindly give my +love to your sister, will you?" + +"George Washington didn't have no sister," said the boy, cunningly. + +"Can I have been mistaken?" said Hamlin, lifting his hand to his +forehead with grieved accents. "Then it seems YOU have. Kindly +give her my love." + +"Which one?" asked the boy, with a swift glance of mischief. "I've +got four." + +"The one that's like you," returned Hamlin, with prompt exactitude. +"Now, where's the 'bresh' you spoke of?" + +"Keep along the edge until you come to the log-slide. Foller that, +and it'll lead you into the woods. But ye won't go far, I tell ye. +When you have to turn back, instead o' comin' back here, you kin +take the trail that goes round the woods, and that'll bring ye out +into the stage road ag'in near the post-office at the Green Springs +crossin' and the new hotel. That'll be war ye'll turn up, I +reckon," he added, reflectively. "Fellers that come yer gunnin' +and fishin' gin'rally do," he concluded, with a half-inquisitive +air. + +"Ah?" said Mr. Hamlin, quietly shedding the inquiry. "Green +Springs Hotel is where the stage stops, eh?" + +"Yes, and at the post-office," said the boy. "She'll be along here +soon," he added. + +"If you mean the Santa Cruz stage," said Hamlin, "she's here +already. I passed her on the ridge half an hour ago." + +The boy gave a sudden start, and a quick uneasy expression passed +over his face. "Go 'long with ye!" he said, with a forced smile: +"it ain't her time yet." + +"But I SAW her," repeated Hamlin, much amused. "Are you expecting +company? Hullo! Where are you off to? Come back." + +But his companion had already vanished in the thicket with the +undeliberate and impulsive act of an animal. There was a momentary +rustle in the alders fifty feet away, and then all was silent. The +hidden brook took up its monotonous murmur, the tapping of a +distant woodpecker became suddenly audible, and Mr. Hamlin was +again alone. + +"Wonder whether he's got parents in the stage, and has been playing +truant here," he mused, lazily. "Looked as if he'd been up to some +devilment, or more like as if he was primed for it. If he'd been a +little older, I'd have bet he was in league with some road-agents +to watch the coach. Just my luck to have him light out as I was +beginning to get some talk out of him." He paused, looked at his +watch, and straightened himself in his stirrups. "Four o'clock. I +reckon I might as well try the woods and what that imp calls the +'bresh;' I may strike a shanty or a native by the way." + +With this determination, Mr. Hamlin urged his horse along the faint +trail by the brink of the watercourse which the boy had just +indicated. He had no definite end in view beyond the one that had +brought him the day before to that locality--his quest of the +unknown poetess. His clue would have seemed to ordinary humanity +the faintest. He had merely noted the provincial name of a certain +plant mentioned in the poem, and learned that its habitat was +limited to the southern local range; while its peculiar nomenclature +was clearly of French Creole or Gulf State origin. This gave him a +large though sparsely-populated area for locality, while it +suggested a settlement of Louisianians or Mississippians near the +Summit, of whom, through their native gambling proclivities, he was +professionally cognizant. But he mainly trusted Fortune. Secure in +his faith in the feminine character of that goddess, he relied a +great deal on her well-known weakness for scamps of his quality. + +It was not long before he came to the "slide"--a lightly-cut or +shallow ditch. It descended slightly in a course that was far from +straight, at times diverging to avoid the obstacles of trees or +boulders, at times shaving them so closely as to leave smooth +abrasions along their sides made by the grinding passage of long +logs down the incline. The track itself was slippery from this, +and preoccupied all Hamlin's skill as a horseman, even to the point +of stopping his usual careless whistle. At the end of half an hour +the track became level again, and he was confronted with a singular +phenomenon. + +He had entered the wood, and the trail seemed to cleave through a +far-stretching, motionless sea of ferns that flowed on either side +to the height of his horse's flanks. The straight shafts of the +trees rose like columns from their hidden bases and were lost again +in a roof of impenetrable leafage, leaving a clear space of fifty +feet between, through which the surrounding horizon of sky was +perfectly visible. All the light that entered this vast sylvan +hall came from the sides; nothing permeated from above; nothing +radiated from below; the height of the crest on which the wood was +placed gave it this lateral illumination, but gave it also the +profound isolation of some temple raised by long-forgotten hands. +In spite of the height of these clear shafts, they seemed dwarfed +by the expanse of the wood, and in the farthest perspective the +base of ferns and the capital of foliage appeared almost to meet. +As the boy had warned him, the slide had turned aside, skirting the +wood to follow the incline, and presently the little trail he now +followed vanished utterly, leaving him and his horse adrift breast- +high in this green and yellow sea of fronds. But Mr. Hamlin, +imperious of obstacles, and touched by some curiosity, continued to +advance lazily, taking the bearings of a larger red-wood in the +centre of the grove for his objective point. The elastic mass gave +way before him, brushing his knees or combing his horse's flanks +with wide-spread elfin fingers, and closing up behind him as he +passed, as if to obliterate any track by which he might return. +Yet his usual luck did not desert him here. Being on horseback, he +found that he could detect what had been invisible to the boy and +probably to all pedestrians, namely, that the growth was not +equally dense, that there were certain thinner and more open spaces +that he could take advantage of by more circuitous progression, +always, however, keeping the bearings of the central tree. This he +at last reached, and halted his panting horse. Here a new idea +which had been haunting him since he entered the wood took fuller +possession of him. He had seen or known all this before! There +was a strange familiarity either in these objects or in the +impression or spell they left upon him. He remembered the verses! +Yes, this was the "underbrush" which the poetess had described: the +gloom above and below, the light that seemed blown through it like +the wind, the suggestion of hidden life beneath this tangled +luxuriance, which she alone had penetrated,--all this was here. +But, more than that, here was the atmosphere that she had breathed +into the plaintive melody of her verse. It did not necessarily +follow that Mr. Hamlin's translation of her sentiment was the +correct one, or that the ideas her verses had provoked in his mind +were at all what had been hers: in his easy susceptibility he was +simply thrown into a corresponding mood of emotion and relieved +himself with song. One of the verses he had already associated in +his mind with the rhythm of an old plantation melody, and it struck +his fancy to take advantage of the solitude to try its effect. +Humming to himself, at first softly, he at last grew bolder, and +let his voice drift away through the stark pillars of the sylvan +colonnade till it seemed to suffuse and fill it with no more effort +than the light which strayed in on either side. Sitting thus, his +hat thrown a little back from his clustering curls, the white neck +and shoulders of his horse uplifting him above the crested mass of +fern, his red sash the one fleck of color in their olive depths, I +am afraid he looked much more like the real minstrel of the grove +than the unknown poetess who transfigured it. But this, as has +been already indicated, was Jack Hamlin's peculiar gift. Even as +he had previously outshone the vaquero in his borrowed dress, he +now silenced and supplanted a few fluttering blue-jays--rightful +tenants of the wood--with a more graceful and airy presence and a +far sweeter voice. + +The open horizon towards the west had taken a warmer color from the +already slanting sun when Mr. Hamlin, having rested his horse, +turned to that direction. He had noticed that the wood was thinner +there, and, pushing forward, he was presently rewarded by the sound +of far-off wheels, and knew he must be near the high-road that the +boy had spoken of. Having given up his previous intention of +crossing the stream, there seemed nothing better for him to do than +to follow the truant's advice and take the road back to Green +Springs. Yet he was loath to leave the wood, halting on its verge, +and turning to look back into its charmed recesses. Once or twice-- +perhaps because he recalled the words of the poem--that yellowish +sea of ferns had seemed instinct with hidden life, and he had even +fancied, here and there, a swaying of its plumed crests. Howbeit, +he still lingered long enough for the open sunlight into which he +had obtruded to point out the bravery of his handsome figure. Then +he wheeled his horse, the light glanced from polished double bit +and bridle-fripperies, caught his red sash and bullion buttons, +struck a parting flash from his silver spurs, and he was gone! + +For a moment the light streamed unbrokenly through the wood. And +then it could be seen that the yellow mass of undergrowth HAD moved +with the passage of another figure than his own. For ever since he +had entered the shade, a woman, shawled in a vague, shapeless +fashion, had watched him wonderingly, eagerly, excitedly, gliding +from tree to tree as he advanced, or else dropping breathlessly +below the fronds of fern whence she gazed at him as between parted +fingers. When he wheeled she had run openly to the west, albeit +with hidden face and still clinging shawl, and taken a last look at +his retreating figure. And then, with a faint but lingering sigh, +she drew back into the shadow of the wood again and vanished also. + + +CHAPTER III + + +At the end of twenty minutes Mr. Hamlin reined in his mare. He had +just observed in the distant shadows of a by-lane that intersected +his road the vanishing flutter of two light print dresses. Without +a moment's hesitation he lightly swerved out of the high-road and +followed the retreating figures. + +As he neared them, they seemed to be two slim young girls, +evidently so preoccupied with the rustic amusement of edging each +other off the grassy border into the dust of the track that they +did not perceive his approach. Little shrieks, slight scufflings, +and interjections of "Cynthy! you limb!" "Quit that, Eunice, now!" +and "I just call that real mean!" apparently drowned the sound of +his canter in the soft dust. Checking his speed to a gentle trot, +and pressing his horse close beside the opposite fence, he passed +them with gravely uplifted hat and a serious, preoccupied air. But +in that single, seemingly conventional glance, Mr. Hamlin had seen +that they were both pretty, and that one had the short upper lip of +his errant little guide. A hundred yards farther on he halted, as +if irresolutely, gazed doubtfully ahead of him, and then turned +back. An expression of innocent--almost childlike--concern was +clouding the rascal's face. It was well, as the two girls had +drawn closely together, having been apparently surprised in the +midst of a glowing eulogium of this glorious passing vision by its +sudden return. At his nearer approach, the one with the short +upper lip hid that piquant feature and the rest of her rosy face +behind the other's shoulder, which was suddenly and significantly +opposed to the advance of this handsome intruder, with a certain +dignity, half real, half affected, but wholly charming. The +protectress appeared--possibly from her defensive attitude--the +superior of her companion. + +Audacious as Jack was to his own sex, he had early learned that +such rare but discomposing graces as he possessed required a +certain apologetic attitude when presented to women, and that it +was only a plain man who could be always complacently self- +confident in their presence. There was, consequently, a hesitating +lowering of this hypocrite's brown eyelashes as he said, in almost +pained accents,-- + +"Excuse me, but I fear I've taken the wrong road. I'm going to +Green Springs." + +"I reckon you've taken the wrong road, wherever you're going," +returned the young lady, having apparently made up her mind to +resent each of Jack's perfections as a separate impertinence: "this +is a PRIVATE road." She drew herself fairly up here, although +gurgled at in the ear and pinched in the arm by her companion. + +"I beg your pardon," said Jack, meekly. "I see I'm trespassing on +your grounds. I'm very sorry. Thank you for telling me. I should +have gone on a mile or two farther, I suppose, until I came to your +house," he added, innocently. + +"A mile or two! You'd have run chock ag'in' our gate in another +minit," said the short-lipped one, eagerly. But a sharp nudge from +her companion sent her back again into cover, where she waited +expectantly for another crushing retort from her protector. + +But, alas! it did not come. One cannot be always witty, and Jack +looked distressed. Nevertheless, he took advantage of the pause. + +"It was so stupid in me, as I think your brother"--looking at +Short-lip--"very carefully told me the road." + +The two girls darted quick glances at each other. "Oh, Bawb!" said +the first speaker, in wearied accents,--"THAT limb! He don't +keer." + +"But he DID care," said Hamlin, quietly, "and gave me a good deal +of information. Thanks to him, I was able to see that ferny wood +that's so famous--about two miles up the road. You know--the one +that there's a poem written about!" + +The shot told! Short-lip burst into a display of dazzling little +teeth and caught the other girl convulsively by the shoulders. The +superior girl bent her pretty brows, and said, "Eunice, what's gone +of ye? Quit that!" but, as Hamlin thought, paled slightly. + +"Of course," said Hamlin, quickly, "you know--the poem everybody's +talking about. Dear me! let me see! how does it go?" The rascal +knit his brows, said, "Ah, yes," and then murmured the verse he had +lately sung quite as musically. + +Short-lip was shamelessly exalted and excited. Really she could +scarcely believe it! She already heard herself relating the whole +occurrence. Here was the most beautiful young man she had ever +seen--an entire stranger--talking to them in the most beautiful and +natural way, right in the lane, and reciting poetry to her sister! +It was like a novel--only more so. She thought that Cynthia, on +the other hand, looked distressed, and--she must say it--"silly." + +All of which Jack noted, and was wise. He had got all he wanted-- +at present. He gathered up his reins. + +"Thank you so much, and your brother, too, Miss Cynthia," he said, +without looking up. Then, adding, with a parting glance and smile, +"But don't tell Bob how stupid I was," he swiftly departed. + +In half an hour he was at the Green Springs Hotel. As he rode into +the stable yard, he noticed that the coach had only just arrived, +having been detained by a land-slip on the Summit road. With the +recollection of Bob fresh in his mind, he glanced at the loungers +at the stage office. The boy was not there, but a moment later +Jack detected him among the waiting crowd at the post-office +opposite. With a view of following up his inquiries, he crossed +the road as the boy entered the vestibule of the post-office. He +arrived in time to see him unlock one of a row of numbered letter- +boxes rented by subscribers, which occupied a partition by the +window, and take out a small package and a letter. But in that +brief glance Mr. Hamlin detected the printed address of the +"Excelsior Magazine" on the wrapper. It was enough. Luck was +certainly with him. + +He had time to get rid of the wicked sparkle that had lit his dark +eyes, and to lounge carelessly towards the boy as the latter broke +open the package, and then hurriedly concealed it in his jacket- +pocket, and started for the door. Mr. Hamlin quickly followed him, +unperceived, and, as he stepped into the street, gently tapped him +on the shoulder. The boy turned and faced him quickly. But Mr. +Hamlin's eyes showed nothing but lazy good-humor. + +"Hullo, Bob. Where are you going?" + +The boy again looked up suspiciously at this revelation of his +name. + +"Home," he said, briefly. + +"Oh, over yonder," said Hamlin, calmly. "I don't mind walking with +you as far as the lane." + +He saw the boy's eyes glance furtively towards an alley that ran +beside the blacksmith's shop a few rods ahead, and was convinced +that he intended to evade him there. Slipping his arm carelessly +in the youth's, he concluded to open fire at once. + +"Bob," he said, with irresistible gravity, "I did not know when I +met you this morning that I had the honor of addressing a poet-- +none other than the famous author of 'Underbrush.'" + +The boy started back, and endeavored to withdraw his arm, but Mr. +Hamlin tightened his hold, without, however, changing his careless +expression. + +"You see," he continued, "the editor is a friend of mine, and, +being afraid this package might not get into the right hands--as +you didn't give your name--he deputized me to come here and see +that it was all square. As you're rather young, for all you're so +gifted, I reckon I'd better go home with you, and take a receipt +from your parents. That's about square, I think?" + +The consternation of the boy was so evident and so far beyond Mr. +Hamlin's expectation that he instantly halted him, gazed into his +shifting eyes, and gave a long whistle. + +"Who said it was for ME? Wot you talkin' about? Lemme go!" gasped +the boy, with the short intermittent breath of mingled fear and +passion. + +"Bob," said Mr. Hamlin, in a singularly colorless voice which was +very rare with him, and an expression quite unlike his own, "what +is your little game?" + +The boy looked down in dogged silence. + +"Out with it! Who are you playing this on?" + +"It's all among my own folks; it's nothin' to YOU," said the boy, +suddenly beginning to struggle violently, as if inspired by this +extenuating fact. + +"Among your own folks, eh? White Violet and the rest, eh? But +SHE'S not in it?" + +No reply. + +"Hand me over that package. I'll give it back to you again." + +The boy handed it to Mr. Hamlin. He read the letter, and found the +inclosure contained a twenty-dollar gold-piece. A half- +supercilious smile passed over his face at this revelation of the +inadequate emoluments of literature and the trifling inducements to +crime. Indeed, I fear the affair began to take a less serious +moral complexion in his eyes. + +"Then White Violet--your sister Cynthia, you know," continued Mr. +Hamlin, in easy parenthesis--"wrote for this?" holding the coin +contemplatively in his fingers, "and you calculated to nab it +yourself?" + +The quick searching glance with which Bob received the name of his +sister, Mr. Hamlin attributed only to his natural surprise that +this stranger should be on such familiar terms with her; but the +boy responded immediately and bluntly:-- + +"No! SHE didn't write for it. She didn't want nobody to know who +she was. Nobody wrote for it but me. Nobody KNEW FOLKS WAS PAID +FOR PO'TRY BUT ME. I found it out from a feller. I wrote for it. +I wasn't goin' to let that skunk of an editor have it himself!" + +"And you thought YOU would take it," said Hamlin, his voice +resuming its old tone. "Well, George--I mean Bob, your conduct was +praiseworthy, although your intentions were bad. Still, twenty +dollars is rather too much for your trouble. Suppose we say five +and call it square?" He handed the astonished boy five dollars. +"Now, George Washington," he continued, taking four other twenty- +dollar pieces from his pocket, and adding them to the inclosure, +which he carefully refolded, "I'm going to give you another chance +to live up to your reputation. You'll take that package, and hand +it to White Violet, and say you found it, just as it is, in the +lock-box. I'll keep the letter, for it would knock you endways if +it was seen, and I'll make it all right with the editor. But, as +I've got to tell him that I've seen White Violet myself, and know +she's got it, I expect YOU to manage in some way to have me see +her. I'll manage the rest of it; and I won't blow on you, either. +You'll come back to the hotel, and tell me what you've done. And +now, George " concluded Mr. Hamlin, succeeding at last in fixing +the boy's evasive eye with a peculiar look, "it may be just as well +for you to understand that I know every nook and corner of this +place, that I've already been through that underbrush you spoke of +once this morning, and that I've got a mare that can go wherever +YOU can, and a d----d sight quicker!" + +"I'll give the package to White Violet," said the boy, doggedly. + +"And you'll come back to the hotel?" + +The boy hesitated, and then said, "I'll come back." + +"All right, then. Adios, general." + +Bob disappeared around the corner of a cross-road at a rapid trot, +and Mr. Hamlin turned into the hotel. + +"Smart little chap that!" he said to the barkeeper. + +"You bet!" returned the man, who, having recognized Mr. Hamlin, was +delighted at the prospect of conversing with a gentleman of such +decidedly dangerous reputation. "But he's been allowed to run a +little wild since old man Delatour died, and the widder's got +enough to do, I reckon, lookin' arter her four gals, and takin' +keer of old Delatour's ranch over yonder. I guess it's pretty hard +sleddin' for her sometimes to get clo'es and grub for the famerly, +without follerin' Bob around." + +"Sharp girls, too, I reckon; one of them writes things for the +magazines, doesn't she?--Cynthia, eh?" said Mr. Hamlin, carelessly. + +Evidently this fact was not a notorious one to the barkeeper. He, +however, said, "Dunno; mabbee; her father was eddicated, and the +widder Delatour, too, though she's sorter queer, I've heard tell. +Lord! Mr. Hamlin, YOU oughter remember old man Delatour! From +Opelousas, Louisiany, you know! High old sport French style, +frilled bosom--open-handed, and us'ter buck ag'in' faro awful! +Why, he dropped a heap o' money to YOU over in San Jose two years +ago at poker! You must remember him!" + +The slightest possible flush passed over Mr. Hamlin's brow under +the shadow of his hat, but did not get lower than his eyes. He +suddenly HAD recalled the spendthrift Delatour perfectly, and as +quickly regretted now that he had not doubled the honorarium he had +just sent to his portionless daughter. But he only said, coolly, +"No," and then, raising his pale face and audacious eyes, continued +in his laziest and most insulting manner, "no: the fact is, my mind +is just now preoccupied in wondering if the gas is leaking +anywhere, and if anything is ever served over this bar except +elegant conversation. When the gentleman who mixes drinks comes +back, perhaps you'll be good enough to tell him to send a whisky +sour to Mr. Jack Hamlin in the parlor. Meantime, you can turn off +your soda fountain: I don't want any fizz in mine." + +Having thus quite recovered himself, Mr. Hamlin lounged gracefully +across the hall into the parlor. As he did so, a darkish young +man, with a slim boyish figure, a thin face, and a discontented +expression, rose from an armchair, held out his hand, and, with a +saturnine smile, said:-- + +"Jack!" + +"Fred!" + +The two men remained gazing at each other with a half-amused, half- +guarded expression. Mr. Hamlin was first to begin. "I didn't +think YOU'D be such a fool as to try on this kind of thing, Fred," +he said, half seriously. + +"Yes, but it was to keep you from being a much bigger one that I +hunted you up," said the editor, mischievously. "Read that. I got +it an hour after you left." And he placed a little triumphantly in +Jack's hand the letter he had received from White Violet. + +Mr. Hamlin read it with an unmoved face, and then laid his two +hands on the editor's shoulders. "Yes, my young friend, and you +sat down and wrote her a pretty letter and sent her twenty dollars-- +which, permit me to say, was d----d poor pay! But that isn't your +fault, I reckon: it's the meanness of your proprietors." + +"But it isn't the question, either, just now, Jack, however you +have been able to answer it. Do you mean to say seriously that you +want to know anything more of a woman who could write such a +letter?" + +"I don't know," said Jack, cheerfully. "She might be a devilish +sight funnier than if she hadn't written it--which is the fact." + +"You mean to say SHE didn't write it?" + +"Yes." + +"Who did, then?" + +"Her brother Bob." + +After a moment's scrutiny of his friend's bewildered face, Mr. +Hamlin briefly related his adventures, from the moment of his +meeting Bob at the mountain-stream to the barkeeper's gossiping +comment and sequel. "Therefore," he concluded, "the author of +'Underbrush' is Miss Cynthia Delatour, one of four daughters of a +widow who lives two miles from here at the crossing. I shall see +her this evening and make sure; but to-morrow morning you will pay +me the breakfast you owe me. She's good-looking, but I can't say I +fancy the poetic style: it's a little too high-toned for me. +However, I love my love with a C, because she is your Contributor; +I hate her with a C, because of her Connections; I met her by +Chance and treated her with Civility; her name is Cynthia, and she +lives on a Cross-road." + +"But you surely don't expect you will ever see Bob, again!" said +the editor, impatiently. "You have trusted him with enough to +start him for the Sandwich Islands, to say nothing of the ruinous +precedent you have established in his mind of the value of poetry. +I am surprised that a man of your knowledge of the world would have +faith in that imp the second time." + +"My knowledge of the world," returned Mr. Hamlin, sententiously, +"tells me that's the only way you can trust anybody. ONCE doesn't +make a habit, nor show a character. I could see by his bungling +that he had never tried this on before. Just now the temptation to +wipe out his punishment by doing the square thing, and coming back +a sort of hero, is stronger than any other. 'Tisn't everybody that +gets that chance," he added, with an odd laugh. + +Nevertheless, three hours passed without bringing Bob. The two men +had gone to the billiard-room, when a waiter brought a note, which +he handed to Mr. Hamlin with some apologetic hesitation. It bore +no superscription, but had been brought by a boy who described Mr. +Hamlin perfectly, and requested that the note should be handed to +him with the remark that "Bob had come back." + +"And is he there now?" asked Mr. Hamlin, holding the letter +unopened in his hand. + +"No, sir; he run right off." + +The editor laughed, but Mr. Hamlin, having perused the note, put +away his cue. "Come into my room," he said. + +The editor followed, and Mr. Hamlin laid the note before him on the +table. "Bob's all right," he said, "for I'll bet a thousand +dollars that note is genuine." + +It was delicately written, in a cultivated feminine hand, utterly +unlike the scrawl that had first excited the editor's curiosity, +and ran as follows:-- + + +He who brought me the bounty of your friend--for I cannot call a +recompense so far above my deserts by any other name--gives me also +to understand that you wished for an interview. I cannot believe +that this is mere idle curiosity, or that you have any motive that +is not kindly and honorable, but I feel that I must beg and pray +you not to seek to remove the veil behind which I have chosen to +hide myself and my poor efforts from identification. I THINK I +know you--I KNOW I know myself--well enough to believe it would +give neither of us any happiness. You will say to your generous +friend that he has already given the Unknown more comfort and hope +than could come from any personal compliment or publicity, and you +will yourself believe that you have all unconsciously brightened a +sad woman's fancy with a Dream and a Vision that before today had +been unknown to + + WHITE VIOLET. + + +"Have you read it?" asked Mr. Hamlin. + +"Yes." + +"Then you don't want to see it any more, or even remember you ever +saw it," said Mr. Hamlin, carefully tearing the note into small +pieces and letting them drift from the windows like blown blossoms. + +"But, I say, Jack! look here; I don't understand! You say you have +already seen this woman, and yet"-- + +"I HAVEN'T seen her," said Jack, composedly, turning from the +window. + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that you and I, Fred, are going to drop this fooling right +here and leave this place for Frisco by first stage to-morrow, and-- +that I owe you that dinner." + + +CHAPTER IV + + +When the stage for San Francisco rolled away the next morning with +Mr. Hamlin and the editor, the latter might have recognized in the +occupant of a dust-covered buggy that was coming leisurely towards +them the tall figure, long beard, and straight duster of his late +visitor, Mr. James Bowers. For Mr. Bowers was on the same quest +that the others had just abandoned. Like Mr. Hamlin, he had been +left to his own resources, but Mr. Bowers's resources were a life- +long experience and technical skill; he too had noted the +topographical indications of the poem, and his knowledge of the +sylva of Upper California pointed as unerringly as Mr. Hamlin's +luck to the cryptogamous haunts of the Summit. Such abnormal +growths were indicative of certain localities only, but, as they +were not remunerative from a pecuniary point of view, were to be +avoided by the sagacious woodman. It was clear, therefore, that +Mr. Bowers's visit to Green Springs was not professional, and that +he did not even figuratively accept the omen. + +He baited and rested his horse at the hotel, where his bucolic +exterior, however, did not elicit that attention which had been +accorded to Mr. Hamlin's charming insolence or the editor's +cultivated manner. But he glanced over a township map on the walls +of the reading-room, and took note of the names of the owners of +different lots, farms, and ranches, passing that of Delatour with +the others. Then he drove leisurely in the direction of the woods, +and, reaching them, tied his horse to a young sapling in the shade, +and entered their domain with a shambling but familiar woodman's +step. + +It is not the purpose of this brief chronicle to follow Mr. Bowers +in his professional diagnosis of the locality. He recognized +Nature in one of her moods of wasteful extravagance,--a waste that +his experienced eye could tell was also sapping the vitality of +those outwardly robust shafts that rose around him. He knew, +without testing them, that half of these fair-seeming columns were +hollow and rotten at the core; he could detect the chill odor of +decay through the hot balsamic spices stirred by the wind that +streamed through their long aisles,--like incense mingling with the +exhalations of a crypt. He stopped now and then to part the heavy +fronds down to their roots in the dank moss, seeing again, as he +had told the editor, the weird SECOND twilight through their +miniature stems, and the microcosm of life that filled it. But, +even while paying this tribute to the accuracy of the unknown +poetess, he was, like his predecessor, haunted more strongly by the +atmosphere and melody of her verse. Its spell was upon him, too. +Unlike Mr. Hamlin, he did not sing. He only halted once or twice, +silently combing his straight narrow beard with his three fingers, +until the action seemed to draw down the lines of his face into +limitless dejection, and an inscrutable melancholy filled his small +gray eyes. The few birds which had hailed Mr. Hamlin as their +successful rival fled away before the grotesque and angular half- +length of Mr. Bowers, as if the wind had blown in a scarecrow from +the distant farms. + +Suddenly he observed the figure of a woman, with her back towards +him, leaning motionless against a tree, and apparently gazing +intently in the direction of Green Springs. He had approached so +near to her that it was singular she had not heard him. Mr. Bowers +was a bashful man in the presence of the other sex. He felt +exceedingly embarrassed; if he could have gone away without +attracting her attention he would have done so. Neither could he +remain silent, a tacit spy of her meditation. He had recourse to a +polite but singularly artificial cough. + +To his surprise, she gave a faint cry, turned quickly towards him, +and then shrank back and lapsed quite helpless against the tree. +Her evident distress overcame his bashfulness. He ran towards her. + +"I'm sorry I frighted ye, ma'am, but I was afraid I might skeer ye +more if I lay low, and said nothin'." + +Even then, if she had been some fair young country girl, he would +have relapsed after this speech into his former bashfulness. But +the face and figure she turned towards him were neither young nor +fair: a woman past forty, with gray threads and splashes in her +brushed-back hair, which was turned over her ears in two curls like +frayed strands of rope. Her forehead was rather high than broad, +her nose large but well-shaped, and her eyes full but so singularly +light in color as to seem almost sightless. The short upper lip of +her large mouth displayed her teeth in an habitual smile, which was +in turn so flatly contradicted by every other line of her careworn +face that it seemed gratuitously artificial. Her figure was hidden +by a shapeless garment that partook equally of the shawl, cloak, +and wrapper. + +"I am very foolish," she began, in a voice and accent that at once +asserted a cultivated woman, "but I so seldom meet anybody here +that a voice quite startled me. That, and the heat," she went on, +wiping her face, into which the color was returning violently--"for +I seldom go out as early as this--I suppose affected me." + +Mr. Bowers had that innate Far-Western reverence for womanhood +which I fancy challenges the most polished politeness. He remained +patient, undemonstrative, self-effacing, and respectful before her, +his angular arm slightly but not obtrusively advanced, the offer of +protection being in the act rather than in any spoken word, and +requiring no response. + +"Like as not, ma'am," he said, cheerfully looking everywhere but in +her burning face. "The sun IS pow'ful hot at this time o' day; I +felt it myself comin' yer, and, though the damp of this timber +kinder sets it back, it's likely to come out ag'in. Ye can't check +it no more than the sap in that choked limb thar"--he pointed +ostentatiously where a fallen pine had been caught in the bent and +twisted arm of another, but which still put out a few green tassels +beyond the point of impact. "Do you live far from here, ma'am?" he +added. + +"Only as far as the first turning below the hill." + +"I've got my buggy here, and I'm goin' that way, and I can jist set +ye down thar cool and comfortable. Ef," he continued, in the same +assuring tone, without waiting for a reply, "ye'll jist take a good +grip of my arm thar," curving his wrist and hand behind him like a +shepherd's crook, "I'll go first, and break away the brush for ye." + +She obeyed mechanically, and they fared on through the thick ferns +in this fashion for some moments, he looking ahead, occasionally +dropping a word of caution or encouragement, but never glancing at +her face. When they reached the buggy he lifted her into it +carefully,--and perpendicularly, it struck her afterwards, very +much as if she had been a transplanted sapling with bared and +sensitive roots,--and then gravely took his place beside her. + +"Bein' in the timber trade myself, ma'am," he said, gathering up +the reins, "I chanced to sight these woods, and took a look around. +My name is Bowers, of Mendocino; I reckon there ain't much that +grows in the way o' standin' timber on the Pacific Slope that I +don't know and can't locate, though I DO say it. I've got ez big a +mill, and ez big a run in my district, ez there is anywhere. Ef +you're ever up my way, you ask for Bowers--Jim Bowers--and that's +ME." + +There is probably nothing more conducive to conversation between +strangers than a wholesome and early recognition of each other's +foibles. Mr. Bowers, believing his chance acquaintance a superior +woman, naively spoke of himself in a way that he hoped would +reassure her that she was not compromising herself in accepting his +civility, and so satisfy what must be her inevitable pride. On the +other hand, the woman regained her self-possession by this +exhibition of Mr. Bowers's vanity, and, revived by the refreshing +breeze caused by the rapid motion of the buggy along the road, +thanked him graciously. + +"I suppose there are many strangers at the Green Springs Hotel," +she said, after a pause. + +"I didn't get to see 'em, as I only put up my hoss there," he +replied. "But I know the stage took some away this mornin': it +seemed pretty well loaded up when I passed it." + +The woman drew a deep sigh. The act struck Mr. Bowers as a +possible return of her former nervous weakness. Her attention must +at once be distracted at any cost--even conversation. + +"Perhaps," he began, with sudden and appalling lightness, "I'm +a-talkin' to Mrs. McFadden?" + +"No," said the woman, abstractedly. + +"Then it must be Mrs. Delatour? There are only two township lots +on that crossroad." + +"My name IS Delatour," she said, somewhat wearily. + +Mr. Bowers was conversationally stranded. He was not at all +anxious to know her name, yet, knowing it now, it seemed to suggest +that there was nothing more to say. He would, of course, have +preferred to ask her if she had read the poetry about the +Underbrush, and if she knew the poetess, and what she thought of +it; but the fact that she appeared to be an "eddicated" woman made +him sensitive of displaying technical ignorance in his manner of +talking about it. She might ask him if it was "subjective or +"objective"--two words he had heard used at the Debating Society at +Mendocino on the question, "Is poetry morally beneficial?" For a +few moments he was silent. But presently she took the initiative +in conversation, at first slowly and abstractedly, and then, as if +appreciating his sympathetic reticence, or mayhap finding some +relief in monotonous expression, talked mechanically, deliberately, +but unostentatiously about herself. So colorless was her +intonation that at times it did not seem as if she was talking to +him, but repeating some conversation she had held with another. + +She had lived there ever since she had been in California. Her +husband had bought the Spanish title to the property when they +first married. The property at his death was found to be greatly +involved; she had been obliged to part with much of it to support +her children--four girls and a boy. She had been compelled to +withdraw the girls from the convent at Santa Clara to help about +the house; the boy was too young--she feared, too shiftless--to do +anything. The farm did not pay; the land was poor; she knew +nothing about farming; she had been brought up in New Orleans, +where her father had been a judge, and she didn't understand +country life. Of course she had been married too young--as all +girls were. Lately she had thought of selling off and moving to +San Francisco, where she would open a boarding-house or a school +for young ladies. He could advise her, perhaps, of some good +opportunity. Her own girls were far enough advanced to assist her +in teaching; one particularly, Cynthia, was quite clever, and spoke +French and Spanish fluently. + +As Mr. Bowers was familiar with many of these counts in the +feminine American indictment of life generally, he was not perhaps +greatly moved. But in the last sentence he thought he saw an +opening to return to his main object, and, looking up cautiously, +said:-- + +"And mebbe write po'try now and then?" To his great discomfiture, +the only effect of this suggestion was to check his companion's +speech for some moments and apparently throw her back into her +former abstraction. Yet, after a long pause, as they were turning +into the lane, she said, as if continuing the subject:-- + +"I only hope that, whatever my daughters may do, they won't marry +young." + +The yawning breaches in the Delatour gates and fences presently +came in view. They were supposed to be reinforced by half a dozen +dogs, who, however, did their duty with what would seem to be the +prevailing inefficiency, retiring after a single perfunctory yelp +to shameless stretching, scratching, and slumber. Their places +were taken on the veranda by two negro servants, two girls +respectively of eight and eleven, and a boy of fourteen, who +remained silently staring. As Mr. Bowers had accepted the widow's +polite invitation to enter, she was compelled, albeit in an equally +dazed and helpless way, to issue some preliminary orders:-- + +"Now, Chloe--I mean aunt Dinah--do take Eunice--I mean Victorine +and Una--away, and--you know--tidy them; and you, Sarah--it's +Sarah, isn't it?--lay some refreshment in the parlor for this +gentleman. And, Bob, tell your sister Cynthia to come here with +Eunice." As Bob still remained staring at Mr. Bowers, she added, +in weary explanation, "Mr. Bowers brought me over from the Summit +woods in his buggy--it was so hot. There--shake hands and thank +him, and run away--do!" + +They crossed a broad but scantily-furnished hall. Everywhere the +same look of hopeless incompleteness, temporary utility, and +premature decay; most of the furniture was mismatched and +misplaced; many of the rooms had changed their original functions +or doubled them; a smell of cooking came from the library, on whose +shelves, mingled with books, were dresses and household linen, and +through the door of a room into which Mrs. Delatour retired to +remove her duster Mr. Bowers caught a glimpse of a bed, and of a +table covered with books and papers, at which a tall, fair girl was +writing. In a few moments Mrs. Delatour returned, accompanied by +this girl, and Eunice, her short-lipped sister. Bob, who joined +the party seated around Mr. Bowers and a table set with cake, a +decanter, and glasses, completed the group. Emboldened by the +presence of the tall Cynthia and his glimpse of her previous +literary attitude, Mr. Bowers resolved to make one more attempt. + +"I suppose these yer young ladies sometimes go to the wood, too?" +As his eye rested on Cynthia, she replied:-- + +"Oh, yes." + +"I reckon on account of the purty shadows down in the brush, and +the soft light, eh? and all that?" he continued, with a playful +manner but a serious accession of color. + +"Why, the woods belong to us. It's mar's property!" broke in +Eunice with a flash of teeth. + +"Well, Lordy, I wanter know!" said Mr. Bowers, in some astonishment. +"Why, that's right in my line, too! I've been sightin' timber all +along here, and that's how I dropped in on yer mar." Then, seeing a +look of eagerness light up the faces of Bob and Eunice, he was +encouraged to make the most of his opportunity. "Why, ma'am," he +went on, cheerfully, "I reckon you're holdin' that wood at a pretty +stiff figger, now." + +"Why?" asked Mrs. Delatour, simply. + +Mr. Bowers delivered a wink at Bob and Eunice, who were still +watching him with anxiety. "Well, not on account of the actool +timber, for the best of it ain't sound," he said, "but on account +of its bein' famous! Everybody that reads that pow'ful pretty poem +about it in the 'Excelsior Magazine' wants to see it. Why, it +would pay the Green Springs hotel-keeper to buy it up for his +customers. But I s'pose you reckon to keep it--along with the +poetess--in your famerly?" + +Although Mr. Bowers long considered this speech as the happiest and +most brilliant effort of his life, its immediate effect was not, +perhaps, all that could be desired. The widow turned upon him a +restrained and darkening face. Cynthia half rose with an appealing +"Oh, mar!" and Bob and Eunice, having apparently pinched each other +to the last stage of endurance, retired precipitately from the room +in a prolonged giggle. + +"I have not yet thought of disposing of the Summit woods, Mr. +Bowers," said Mrs. Delatour, coldly, "but if I should do so, I will +consult you. You must excuse the children, who see so little +company, they are quite unmanageable when strangers are present. +Cynthia, WILL you see if the servants have looked after Mr. +Bowers's horse? You know Bob is not to be trusted." + +There was clearly nothing else for Mr. Bowers to do but to take his +leave, which he did respectfully, if not altogether hopefully. But +when he had reached the lane, his horse shied from the unwonted +spectacle of Bob, swinging his hat, and apparently awaiting him, +from the fork of a wayside sapling. + +"Hol' up, mister. Look here!" + +Mr. Bowers pulled up. Bob dropped into the road, and, after a +backward glance over his shoulder, said:-- + +"Drive 'longside the fence in the shadder." As Mr. Bowers obeyed, +Bob approached the wheels of the buggy in a manner half shy, half +mysterious. "You wanter buy them Summit woods, mister?" + +"Well, per'aps, sonny. Why?" smiled Mr. Bowers. + +"Coz I'll tell ye suthin'. Don't you be fooled into allowin' that +Cynthia wrote that po'try. She didn't--no more'n Eunice nor me. +Mar kinder let ye think it, 'cos she don't want folks to think SHE +did it. But mar wrote that po'try herself; wrote it out o' them +thar woods--all by herself. Thar's a heap more po'try thar, you +bet, and jist as good. And she's the one that kin write it--you +hear me? That's my mar, every time! You buy that thar wood, and +get mar to run it for po'try, and you'll make your pile, sure! I +ain't lyin'. You'd better look spry: thar's another feller +snoopin' 'round yere--only he barked up the wrong tree, and thought +it was Cynthia, jist as you did." + +"Another feller?" repeated the astonished Bowers. + +"Yes; a rig'lar sport. He was orful keen on that po'try, too, you +bet. So you'd better hump yourself afore somebody else cuts in. +Mar got a hundred dollars for that pome, from that editor feller +and his pardner. I reckon that's the rig'lar price, eh?" he added, +with a sudden suspicious caution. + +"I reckon so," replied Mr. Bowers, blankly. "But--look here, Bob! +Do you mean to say it was your mother--your MOTHER, Bob, who wrote +that poem? Are you sure?" + +"D'ye think I'm lyin'?" said Bob, scornfully. "Don't I know? +Don't I copy 'em out plain for her, so as folks won't know her +handwrite? Go 'way! you're loony!" Then, possibly doubting if +this latter expression were strictly diplomatic with the business +in hand, he added, in half-reproach, half-apology, "Don't ye see I +don't want ye to be fooled into losin' yer chance o' buying up that +Summit wood? It's the cold truth I'm tellin' ye." + +Mr. Bowers no longer doubted it. Disappointed as he undoubtedly +was at first,--and even self-deceived,--he recognized in a flash +the grim fact that the boy had stated. He recalled the apparition +of the sad-faced woman in the wood--her distressed manner, that to +his inexperienced mind now took upon itself the agitated trembling +of disturbed mystic inspiration. A sense of sadness and remorse +succeeded his first shock of disappointment. + +"Well, are ye going to buy the woods?" said Bob, eying him grimly. +"Ye'd better say." + +Mr. Bowers started. "I shouldn't wonder, Bob," he said, with a +smile, gathering up his reins. "Anyhow, I'm comin' back to see +your mother this afternoon. And meantime, Bob, you keep the first +chance for me." + +He drove away, leaving the youthful diplomatist standing with his +bare feet in the dust. For a minute or two the young gentleman +amused himself by a few light saltatory steps in the road. Then a +smile of scornful superiority, mingled perhaps with a sense of +previous slights and unappreciation, drew back his little upper +lip, and brightened his mottled cheek. + +"I'd like ter know," he said, darkly, "what this yer God-forsaken +famerly would do without ME!" + + +CHAPTER V + + +It is to be presumed that the editor and Mr. Hamlin mutually kept +to their tacit agreement to respect the impersonality of the +poetess, for during the next three months the subject was seldom +alluded to by either. Yet in that period White Violet had sent two +other contributions, and on each occasion Mr. Hamlin had insisted +upon increasing the honorarium to the amount of his former gift. +In vain the editor pointed out the danger of this form of +munificence; Mr. Hamlin retorted by saying that if he refused he +would appeal to the proprietor, who certainly would not object to +taking the credit of this liberality. "As to the risks," concluded +Jack, sententiously, "I'll take them; and as far as you're +concerned, you certainly get the worth of your money." + +Indeed, if popularity was an indiction, this had become suddenly +true. For the poetess's third contribution, without changing its +strong local color and individuality, had been an unexpected +outburst of human passion--a love-song, that touched those to whom +the subtler meditative graces of the poetess had been unknown. +Many people had listened to this impassioned but despairing cry +from some remote and charmed solitude, who had never read poetry +before, who translated it into their own limited vocabulary and +more limited experience, and were inexpressibly affected to find +that they, too, understood it; it was caught up and echoed by the +feverish, adventurous, and unsatisfied life that filled that day +and time. Even the editor was surprised and frightened. Like most +cultivated men, he distrusted popularity: like all men who believe +in their own individual judgment, he doubted collective wisdom. +Yet now that his protegee had been accepted by others, he +questioned that judgment and became her critic. It struck him that +her sudden outburst was strained; it seemed to him that in this +mere contortion of passion the sibyl's robe had become rudely +disarranged. He spoke to Hamlin, and even approached the tabooed +subject. + +"Did you see anything that suggested this sort of business in--in-- +that woman--I mean in--your pilgrimage, Jack?" + +"No," responded Jack, gravely. "But it's easy to see she's got +hold of some hay-footed fellow up there in the mountains with +straws in his hair, and is playing him for all he's worth. You +won't get much more poetry out of her, I reckon." + +Is was not long after this conversation that one afternoon, when +the editor was alone, Mr. James Bowers entered the editorial room +with much of the hesitation and irresolution of his previous visit. +As the editor had not only forgotten him, but even, dissociated him +with the poetess, Mr. Bowers was fain to meet his unresponsive eye +and manner with some explanation. + +"Ye disremember my comin' here, Mr. Editor, to ask you the name o' +the lady who called herself 'White Violet,' and how you allowed you +couldn't give it, but would write and ask for it?" + +Mr. Editor, leaning back in his chair, now remembered the +occurrence, but was distressed to add that the situation remained +unchanged, and that he had received no such permission. + +"Never mind THAT, my lad," said Mr. Bowers, gravely, waving his +hand. "I understand all that; but, ez I've known the lady ever +since, and am now visiting her at her house on the Summit, I reckon +it don't make much matter." + +It was quite characteristic of Mr. Bowers's smileless earnestness +that he made no ostentation of this dramatic retort, nor of the +undisguised stupefaction of the editor. + +"Do you mean to say that you have met White Violet, the author of +these poems?" repeated the editor. + +"Which her name is Delatour,--the widder Delatour,--ez she has +herself give me permission to tell you," continued Mr. Bowers, with +a certain abstracted and automatic precision that dissipated any +suggestion of malice in the reversed situation. + +"Delatour!--a widow!" repeated the editor. + +"With five children," continued Mr. Bowers. Then, with unalterable +gravity, he briefly gave an outline of her condition and the +circumstances of his acquaintance with her. + +"But I reckoned YOU might have known suthin' o' this; though she +never let on you did," he concluded, eying the editor with troubled +curiosity. + +The editor did not think it necessary to implicate Mr. Hamlin. He +said, briefly, "I? Oh, no!" + +"Of course, YOU might not have seen her?" said Mr. Bowers, keeping +the same grave, troubled gaze on the editor. + +"Of course not," said the editor, somewhat impatient under the +singular scrutiny of Mr. Bowers; "and I'm very anxious to know how +she looks. Tell me, what is she like?" + +"She is a fine, pow'ful, eddicated woman," said Mr. Bowers, with +slow deliberation. "Yes, sir,--a pow'ful woman, havin' grand ideas +of her own, and holdin' to 'em." He had withdrawn his eyes from +the editor, and apparently addressed the ceiling in confidence. + +"But what does she look like, Mr. Bowers?" said the editor, +smiling. + +"Well, sir, she looks--LIKE--IT! Yes,"--with deliberate caution,-- +"I should say, just like it." + +After a pause, apparently to allow the editor to materialize this +ravishing description, he said, gently, "Are you busy just now?" + +"Not very. What can I do for you?" + +"Well, not much for ME, I reckon," he returned, with a deeper +respiration, that was his nearest approach to a sigh, "but suthin' +perhaps for yourself and--another. Are you married?" + +"No," said the editor, promptly. + +"Nor engaged to any--young lady?"--with great politeness. + +"No." + +"Well, mebbe you think it a queer thing for me to say,--mebbe you +reckon you KNOW it ez well ez anybody,--but it's my opinion that +White Violet is in love with you." + +"With me?" ejaculated the editor, in a hopeless astonishment that +at last gave way to an incredulous and irresistible laugh. + +A slight touch of pain passed over Mr. Bowers's dejected face, but +left the deep outlines set with a rude dignity. "It's SO," he +said, slowly, "though, as a young man and a gay feller, ye may +think it's funny." + +"No, not funny, but a terrible blunder, Mr. Bowers, for I give you +my word I know nothing of the lady and have never set eyes upon +her." + +"No, but she has on YOU. I can't say," continued Mr. Bowers, with +sublime naivete, "that I'd ever recognize you from her description, +but a woman o' that kind don't see with her eyes like you and me, +but with all her senses to onct, and a heap more that ain't senses +as we know 'em. The same eyes that seed down through the brush and +ferns in the Summit woods, the same ears that heerd the music of +the wind trailin' through the pines, don't see you with my eyes or +hear you with my ears. And when she paints you, it's nat'ril for a +woman with that pow'ful mind and grand idees to dip her brush into +her heart's blood for warmth and color. Yer smilin', young man. +Well, go on and smile at me, my lad, but not at her. For you don't +know her. When you know her story as I do, when you know she was +made a wife afore she ever knew what it was to be a young woman, +when you know that the man she married never understood the kind o' +critter he was tied to no more than ef he'd been a steer yoked to a +Morgan colt, when ye know she had children growin' up around her +afore she had given over bein' a sort of child herself, when ye +know she worked and slaved for that man and those children about +the house--her heart, her soul, and all her pow'ful mind bein' all +the time in the woods along with the flickering leaves and the +shadders,--when ye mind she couldn't get the small ways o' the +ranch because she had the big ways o' Natur' that made it,--then +you'll understand her." + +Impressed by the sincerity of his visitor's manner, touched by the +unexpected poetry of his appeal, and yet keenly alive to the +absurdity of an incomprehensible blunder somewhere committed, the +editor gasped almost hysterically,-- + +"But why should all this make her in love with ME?" + +"Because ye are both gifted," returned Mr. Bowers, with sad but +unconquerable conviction; "because ye're both, so to speak, in a +line o' idees and business that draws ye together,--to lean on each +other and trust each other ez pardners. Not that YE are ezakly her +ekal," he went on, with a return to his previous exasperating +naivete, "though I've heerd promisin' things of ye, and ye're still +young, but in matters o' this kind there is allers one ez hez to be +looked up to by the other,--and gin'rally the wrong one. She looks +up to you, Mr. Editor,--it's part of her po'try,--ez she looks down +inter the brush and sees more than is plain to you and me. Not," +he continued, with a courteously deprecating wave of the hand, "ez +you hain't bin kind to her--mebbe TOO kind. For thar's the purty +letter you writ her, thar's the perlite, easy, captivatin' way you +had with her gals and that boy--hold on!"--as the editor made a +gesture of despairing renunciation,--"I ain't sayin' you ain't +right in keepin' it to yourself,--and thar's the extry money you +sent her every time. Stop! she knows it was EXTRY, for she made a +p'int o' gettin' me to find out the market price o' po'try in +papers and magazines, and she reckons you've bin payin' her four +hundred per cent. above them figgers--hold on! I ain't sayin' it +ain't free and liberal in you, and I'd have done the same thing; +yet SHE thinks"-- + +But the editor had risen hastily to his feet with flushing cheeks. + +"One moment, Mr. Bowers," he said, hurriedly. "This is the most +dreadful blunder of all. The gift is not mine. It was the +spontaneous offering of another who really admired our friend's +work,--a gentleman who"-- He stopped suddenly. + +The sound of a familiar voice, lightly humming, was borne along the +passage; the light tread of a familiar foot was approaching. The +editor turned quickly towards the open door,--so quickly that Mr. +Bowers was fain to turn also. + +For a charming instant the figure of Jack Hamlin, handsome, +careless, and confident, was framed in the doorway. His dark eyes, +with their habitual scorn of his average fellow-man, swept +superciliously over Mr. Bowers, and rested for an instant with +caressing familiarity on the editor. + +"Well, sonny, any news from the old girl at the Summit?" + +"No-o," hastily stammered the editor, with a half-hysterical laugh. +"No, Jack. Excuse me a moment." + +"All right; busy, I see. Hasta manana." + +The picture vanished, the frame was empty. + +"You see," continued the editor, turning to Mr. Bowers, "there has +been a mistake. I"--but he stopped suddenly at the ashen face of +Mr. Bowers, still fixed in the direction of the vanished figure. + +"Are you ill?" + +Mr. Bowers did not reply, but slowly withdrew his eyes, and turned +them heavily on the editor. Then, drawing a longer, deeper breath, +he picked up his soft felt hat, and, moulding it into shape in his +hands as if preparing to put it on, he moistened his dry, grayish +lips, and said, gently:-- + +"Friend o' yours?" + +"Yes," said the editor--"Jack Hamlin. Of course, you know him?" + +"Yes." + +Mr. Bowers here put his hat on his head, and, after a pause, turned +round slowly once or twice, as if he had forgotten it, and was +still seeking it. Finally he succeeded in finding the editor's +hand, and shook it, albeit his own trembled slightly. Then he +said:-- + +"I reckon you're right. There's bin a mistake. I see it now. +Good-by. If you're ever up my way, drop in and see me." He then +walked to the doorway, passed out, and seemed to melt into the +afternoon shadows of the hall. + +He never again entered the office of the "Excelsior Magazine," +neither was any further contribution ever received from White +Violet. To a polite entreaty from the editor, addressed first to +"White Violet" and then to Mrs. Delatour, there was no response. +The thought of Mr. Hamlin's cynical prophecy disturbed him, but +that gentleman, preoccupied in filling some professional +engagements in Sacramento, gave him no chance to acquire further +explanations as to the past or the future. The youthful editor was +at first in despair and filled with a vague remorse of some +unfulfilled duty. But, to his surprise, the readers of the +magazine seemed to survive their talented contributor, and the +feverish life that had been thrilled by her song, in two months had +apparently forgotten her. Nor was her voice lifted from any alien +quarter; the domestic and foreign press that had echoed her lays +seemed to respond no longer to her utterance. + +It is possible that some readers of these pages may remember a +previous chronicle by the same historian wherein it was recorded +that the volatile spirit of Mr. Hamlin, slightly assisted by +circumstances, passed beyond these voices at the Ranch of the +Blessed Fisherman, some two years later. As the editor stood +beside the body of his friend on the morning of the funeral, he +noticed among the flowers laid upon his bier by loving hands a +wreath of white violets. Touched and disturbed by a memory long +since forgotten, he was further embarrassed, as the cortege +dispersed in the Mission graveyard, by the apparition of the tall +figure of Mr. James Bowers from behind a monumental column. The +editor turned to him quickly. + +"I am glad to see you here," he said, awkwardly, and he knew not +why; then, after a pause, "I trust you can give me some news of +Mrs. Delatour. I wrote to her nearly two years ago, but had no +response." + +"Thar's bin no Mrs. Delatour for two years," said Mr. Bowers, +contemplatively stroking his beard; "and mebbe that's why. She's +bin for two years Mrs. Bowers." + +"I congratulate you," said the editor; "but I hope there still +remains a White Violet, and that, for the sake of literature, she +has not given up"-- + +"Mrs. Bowers," interrupted Mr. Bowers, with singular deliberation, +"found that makin' po'try and tendin' to the cares of a growin'-up +famerly was irritatin' to the narves. They didn't jibe, so to +speak. What Mrs. Bowers wanted--and what, po'try or no po'try, +I've bin tryin' to give her--was Rest! She's bin havin' it +comfor'bly up at my ranch at Mendocino, with her children and me. +Yes, sir"--his eye wandered accidentally to the new-made grave-- +"you'll excuse my sayin' it to a man in your profession, but it's +what most folks will find is a heap better than readin' or writin' +or actin' po'try--and that's Rest!" + + + + +THE CHATELAINE OF BURNT RIDGE + + +CHAPTER I + + +It had grown dark on Burnt Ridge. Seen from below, the whole +serrated crest that had glittered in the sunset as if its +interstices were eaten by consuming fires, now, closed up its ranks +of blackened shafts and became again harsh and sombre chevaux de +frise against the sky. A faint glow still lingered over the red +valley road, as if it were its own reflection, rather than any +light from beyond the darkened ridge. Night was already creeping +up out of remote canyons and along the furrowed flanks of the +mountain, or settling on the nearer woods with the sound of home- +coming and innumerable wings. At a point where the road began to +encroach upon the mountain-side in its slow winding ascent the +darkness had become so real that a young girl cantering along the +rising terrace found difficulty in guiding her horse, with eyes +still dazzled by the sunset fires. + +In spite of her precautions, the animal suddenly shied at some +object in the obscured roadway, and nearly unseated her. The +accident disclosed not only the fact that she was riding in a man's +saddle, but also a foot and ankle that her ordinary walking-dress +was too short to hide. It was evident that her equestrian exercise +was extempore, and that at that hour and on that road she had not +expected to meet company. But she was apparently a good horsewoman, +for the mischance which might have thrown a less practical or more +timid rider seemed of little moment to her. With a strong hand and +determined gesture she wheeled her frightened horse back into the +track, and rode him directly at the object. But here she herself +slightly recoiled, for it was the body of a man lying in the road. + +As she leaned forward over her horse's shoulder, she could see by +the dim light that he was a miner, and that, though motionless, he +was breathing stertorously. Drunk, no doubt!--an accident of the +locality alarming only to her horse. But although she cantered +impatiently forward, she had not proceeded a hundred yards before +she stopped reflectively, and trotted back again. He had not +moved. She could now see that his head and shoulders were covered +with broken clods of earth and gravel, and smaller fragments lay at +his side. A dozen feet above him on the hillside there was a foot +trail which ran parallel with the bridle-road, and occasionally +overhung it. It seemed possible that he might have fallen from the +trail and been stunned. + +Dismounting, she succeeded in dragging him to a safer position by +the bank. The act discovered his face, which was young, and +unknown to her. Wiping it with the silk handkerchief which was +loosely slung around his neck after the fashion of his class, she +gave a quick feminine glance around her and then approached her own +and rather handsome face near his lips. There was no odor of +alcohol in the thick and heavy respiration. Mounting again, she +rode forward at an accelerated pace, and in twenty minutes had +reached a higher tableland of the mountain, a cleared opening in +the forest that showed signs of careful cultivation, and a large, +rambling, yet picturesque-looking dwelling, whose unpainted red- +wood walls were hidden in roses and creepers. Pushing open a +swinging gate, she entered the inclosure as a brown-faced man, +dressed as a vaquero, came towards her as if to assist her to +alight. But she had already leaped to the ground and thrown him +the reins. + +"Miguel," she said, with a mistress's quiet authority in her boyish +contralto voice, "put Glory in the covered wagon, and drive down +the road as far as the valley turning. There's a man lying near +the right bank, drunk, or sick, may be, or perhaps crippled by a +fall. Bring him up here, unless somebody has found him already, or +you happen to know who he is and where to take him." + +The vaquero raised his shoulders, half in disappointed expectation +of some other command. "And your brother, senora, he has not +himself arrived." + +A light shadow of impatience crossed her face. "No," she said, +bluntly. "Come, be quick." + +She turned towards the house as the man moved away. Already a +gaunt-looking old man had appeared in the porch, and was awaiting +her with his hand shadowing his angry, suspicious eyes, and his +lips moving querulously. + +"Of course, you've got to stand out there and give orders and 'tend +to your own business afore you think o' speaking to your own flesh +and blood," he said aggrievedly. "That's all YOU care!" + +"There was a sick man lying in the road, and I've sent Miguel to +look after him," returned the girl, with a certain contemptuous +resignation. + +"Oh, yes!" struck in another voice, which seemed to belong to the +female of the first speaker's species, and to be its equal in age +and temper, "and I reckon you saw a jay bird on a tree, or a +squirrel on the fence, and either of 'em was more important to you +than your own brother." + +"Steve didn't come by the stage, and didn't send any message," +continued the young girl, with the same coldly resigned manner. +"No one had any news of him, and, as I told you before, I didn't +expect any." + +"Why don't you say right out you didn't WANT any?" said the old +man, sneeringly. "Much you inquired! No; I orter hev gone myself, +and I would if I was master here, instead of me and your mother +bein' the dust of the yearth beneath your feet." + +The young girl entered the house, followed by the old man, passing +an old woman seated by the window, who seemed to be nursing her +resentment and a large Bible which she held clasped against her +shawled bosom at the same moment. Going to the wall, she hung up +her large hat and slightly shook the red dust from her skirts as +she continued her explanation, in the same deep voice, with a +certain monotony of logic and possibly of purpose and practice +also. + +"You and mother know as well as I do, father, that Stephen is no +more to be depended upon than the wind that blows. It's three +years since he has been promising to come, and even getting money +to come, and yet he has never showed his face, though he has been a +dozen times within five miles of this house. He doesn't come +because he doesn't want to come. As to YOUR going over to the +stage-office, I went there myself at the last moment to save you +the mortification of asking questions of strangers that they know +have been a dozen times answered already." + +There was such a ring of absolute truthfulness, albeit worn by +repetition, in the young girl's deep honest voice that for one +instant her two more emotional relatives quailed before it; but +only for a moment. + +"That's right!" shrilled the old woman. "Go on and abuse your own +brother. It's only the fear you have that he'll make his fortune +yet and shame you before the father and mother you despise." + +The young girl remained standing by the window, motionless and +apparently passive, as if receiving an accepted and usual +punishment. But here the elder woman gave way to sobs and some +incoherent snuffling, at which the younger went away. Whether she +recognized in her mother's tears the ordinary deliquescence of +emotion, or whether, as a woman herself, she knew that this mere +feminine conventionality could not possibly be directed at her, and +that the actual conflict between them had ceased, she passed slowly +on to an inner hall, leaving the male victim, her unfortunate +father, to succumb, as he always did sooner or later, to their +influence. Crossing the hall, which was decorated with a few elk +horns, Indian trophies, and mountain pelts, she entered another +room, and closed the door behind her with a gesture of relief. + +The room, which looked upon a porch, presented a singular +combination of masculine business occupations and feminine taste +and adornment. A desk covered with papers, a shelf displaying a +ledger and account-books, another containing works of reference, a +table with a vase of flowers and a lady's riding-whip upon it, a +map of California flanked on either side by an embroidered silken +workbag and an oval mirror decked with grasses, a calendar and +interest-table hanging below two school-girl crayons of classic +heads with the legend, "Josephine Forsyth fecit,"--were part of its +incongruous accessories. The young girl went to her desk, but +presently moved and turned towards the window thoughtfully. The +last gleam had died from the steel-blue sky; a few lights like star +points began to prick out the lower valley. The expression of +monotonous restraint and endurance had not yet faded from her face. + +Yet she had been accustomed to scenes like the one she had just +passed though since her girlhood. Five years ago, Alexander +Forsyth, her uncle, had brought her to this spot--then a mere log +cabin on the hillside--as a refuge from the impoverished and +shiftless home of his elder brother Thomas and his ill-tempered +wife. Here Alexander Forsyth, by reason of his more dominant +character and business capacity, had prospered until he became a +rich and influential ranch owner. Notwithstanding her father's +jealousy of Alexander's fortune, and the open rupture that followed +between the brothers, Josephine retained her position in the heart +and home of her uncle without espousing the cause of either; and +her father was too prudent not to recognize the near and +prospective advantages of such a mediator. Accustomed to her +parents' extravagant denunciations, and her uncle's more repressed +but practical contempt of them, the unfortunate girl early +developed a cynical disbelief in the virtues of kinship in the +abstract, and a philosophical resignation to its effects upon her +personally. Believing that her father and uncle fairly represented +the fraternal principle, she was quite prepared for the early +defection and distrust of her vagabond and dissipated brother +Stephen, and accepted it calmly. True to an odd standard of +justice, which she had erected from the crumbling ruins of her own +domestic life, she was tolerant of everything but human perfection. +This quality, however fatal to her higher growth, had given her a +peculiar capacity for business which endeared her to her uncle. +Familiar with the strong passions and prejudices of men, she had +none of those feminine meannesses, a wholesome distrust of which +had kept her uncle a bachelor. It was not strange, therefore, that +when he died two years ago it was found that he had left her his +entire property, real and personal, limited only by a single +condition. She was to undertake the vocation of a "sole trader," +and carry on the business under the name of "J. Forsyth." If she +married, the estate and property was to be held distinct from her +husband's, inalienable under the "Married Woman's Property Act," +and subject during her life only to her own control and personal +responsibilities as a trader. + +The intense disgust and discomfiture of her parents, who had +expected to more actively participate in their brother's fortune, +may be imagined. But it was not equal to their fury when +Josephine, instead of providing for them a separate maintenance out +of her abundance, simply offered to transfer them and her brother +to her own house on a domestic but not a business equality. There +being no alternative but their former precarious shiftless life in +their "played-out" claim in the valley, they wisely consented, +reserving the sacred right of daily protest and objurgation. In +the economy of Burnt Ridge Ranch they alone took it upon themselves +to represent the shattered domestic altar and its outraged Lares +and Penates. And so conscientiously did they perform their task as +even occasionally to impede the business visitor to the ranch, and +to cause some of the more practical neighbors seriously to doubt +the young girl's commercial wisdom. But she was firm. Whether she +thought her parents a necessity of respectable domesticity, or +whether she regarded their presence in the light of a penitential +atonement for some previous disregard of them, no one knew. Public +opinion inclined to the latter. + +The black line of ridge faded out with her abstraction, and she +turned from the window and lit the lamp on her desk. The yellow +light illuminated her face and figure. In their womanly graces +there was no trace of what some people believed to be a masculine +character, except a singularly frank look of critical inquiry and +patient attention in her dark eyes. Her long brown hair was +somewhat rigidly twisted into a knot on the top of her head, as if +more for security than ornament. Brown was also the prevailing +tint of her eyebrows, thickly-set eyelashes, and eyes, and was even +suggested in the slight sallowness of her complexion. But her lips +were well-cut and fresh-colored and her hands and feet small and +finely formed. She would have passed for a pretty girl, had she +not suggested something more. + +She sat down, and began to examine a pile of papers before her with +that concentration and attention to detail which was characteristic +of her eyes, pausing at times with prettily knit brows, and her +penholder between her lips, in the semblance of a pout that was +pleasant enough to see. Suddenly the rattle of hoofs and wheels +struck her with the sense of something forgotten, and she put down +her work quickly and stood up listening. The sound of rough voices +and her father's querulous accents was broken upon by a cultivated +and more familiar utterance: "All right; I'll speak to her at once. +Wait there," and the door opened to the well-known physician of +Burnt Ridge, Dr. Duchesne. + +"Look here," he said, with an abruptness that was only saved from +being brusque by a softer intonation and a reassuring smile, "I met +Miguel helping an accident into your buggy. Your orders, eh?" + +"Oh, yes," said Josephine, quietly. "A man I saw on the road." + +"Well, it's a bad case, and wants prompt attention. And as your +house is the nearest I came with him here." + +Certainly," she said gravely. "Take him to the second room beyond-- +Steve's room--it's ready," she explained to two dusky shadows in +the hall behind the doctor. + +"And look here," said the doctor, partly closing the door behind +him and regarding her with critical eyes, "you always said you'd +like to see some of my queer cases. Well, this is one--a serious +one, too; in fact, it's just touch and go with him. There's a +piece of the bone pressing on the brain no bigger than that, but as +much as if all Burnt Ridge was atop of him! I'm going to lift it. +I want somebody here to stand by, some one who can lend a hand with +a sponge, eh?--some one who isn't going to faint or scream, or even +shake a hair's-breadth, eh?" + +The color rose quickly to the girl's cheek, and her eyes kindled. +"I'll come," she said thoughtfully. "Who is he?" + +The doctor stared slightly at the unessential query. "Don't know,-- +one of the river miners, I reckon. It's an urgent case. I'll go +and get everything ready. You'd better," he added, with an ominous +glance at her gray frock, "put something over your dress." The +suggestion made her grave, but did not alter her color. + +A moment later she entered the room. It was the one that had +always been set apart for her brother: the very bed on which the +unconscious man lay had been arranged that morning with her own +hands. Something of this passed through her mind as she saw that +the doctor had wheeled it beneath the strong light in the centre of +the room, stripped its outer coverings with professional +thoughtfulness, and rearranged the mattresses. But it did not seem +like the same room. There was a pungent odor in the air from some +freshly-opened phial; an almost feminine neatness and luxury in an +open morocco case like a jewel box on the table, shining with +spotless steel. At the head of the bed one of her own servants, +the powerful mill foreman, was assisting with the mingled curiosity +and blase experience of one accustomed to smashed and lacerated +digits. At first she did not look at the central unconscious +figure on the bed, whose sufferings seemed to her to have been +vicariously transferred to the concerned, eager, and drawn faces +that looked down upon its immunity. Then she femininely recoiled +before the bared white neck and shoulders displayed above the +quilt, until, forcing herself to look upon the face half-concealed +by bandages and the head from which the dark tangles of hair had +been ruthlessly sheared, she began to share the doctor's unconcern +in his personality. What mattered who or what HE was? It was--a +case! + +The operation began. With the same earnest intelligence that she +had previously shown, she quickly and noiselessly obeyed the +doctor's whispered orders, and even half anticipated them. She was +conscious of a singular curiosity that, far from being mean or +ignoble, seemed to lift her not only above the ordinary weaknesses +of her own sex, but made her superior to the men around her. +Almost before she knew it, the operation was over, and she regarded +with equal curiosity the ostentatious solicitude with which the +doctor seemed to be wiping his fateful instrument that bore an odd +resemblance to a silver-handled centre-bit. The stertorous +breathing below the bandages had given way to a fainter but more +natural respiration. There was a moment of suspense. The doctor's +hand left the pulse and lifted the closed eyelid of the sufferer. +A slight movement passed over the figure. The sluggish face had +cleared; life seemed to struggle back into it before even the dull +eyes participated in the glow. Dr. Duchesne with a sudden gesture +waved aside his companions, but not before Josephine had bent her +head eagerly forward. + +"He is coming to," she said. + +At the sound of that deep clear voice--the first to break the hush +of the room--the dull eyes leaped up, and the head turned in its +direction. The lips moved and uttered a single rapid sentence. +The girl recoiled. + +"You're all right now," said the doctor, cheerfully, intent only +upon the form before him. + +The lips moved again, but this time feebly and vacantly; the eyes +were staring vaguely around. + +"What's matter? What's all about?" said the man, thickly. + +"You've had a fall. Think a moment. Where do you live?" + +Again the lips moved, but this time only to emit a confused, +incoherent murmur. Dr. Duchesne looked grave, but recovered +himself quickly. + +"That will do. Leave him alone now," he said brusquely to the +others. + +But Josephine lingered. + +"He spoke well enough just now," she said eagerly. "Did you hear +what he said?" + +"Not exactly," said the doctor, abstractedly, gazing at the man. + +"He said, 'You'll have to kill me first,'" said Josephine, slowly. + +"Humph;" said the doctor, passing his hand backwards and forwards +before the man's eyes to note any change in the staring pupils. + +"Yes," continued Josephine, gravely. "I suppose," she added, +cautiously, "he was thinking of the operation--of what you had just +done to him?" + +"What I had done to him? Oh, yes!" + + +CHAPTER II + + +Before noon the next day it was known throughout Burnt Ridge Valley +that Dr. Duchesne had performed a difficult operation upon an +unknown man, who had been picked up unconscious from a fall, and +carried to Burnt Ridge Ranch. But although the unfortunate man's +life was saved by the operation, he had only momentarily recovered +consciousness--relapsing into a semi-idiotic state, which +effectively stopped the discovery of any clue to his friends or his +identity. As it was evidently an ACCIDENT, which, in that rude +community--and even in some more civilized ones--conveyed a vague +impression of some contributary incapacity on the part of the +victim, or some Providential interference of a retributive +character, Burnt Ridge gave itself little trouble about it. It is +unnecessary to say that Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth gave themselves and +Josephine much more. They had a theory and a grievance. Satisfied +from the first that the alleged victim was a drunken tramp, who +submitted to have a hole bored in his head in order to foist +himself upon the ranch, they were loud in their protests, even +hinting at a conspiracy between Josephine and the stranger to +supplant her brother in the property, as he had already in the +spare bedroom. "Didn't all that yer happen THE VERY NIGHT she +pretended to go for Stephen--eh?" said Mrs. Forsyth. "Tell me +that! And didn't she have it all arranged with the buggy to bring +him here, as that sneaking doctor let out--eh? Looks mighty +curious, don't it?" she muttered darkly to the old man. But +although that gentleman, even from his own selfish view, would +scarcely have submitted to a surgical operation and later idiocy as +the price of insuring comfortable dependency, he had no doubt +others were base enough to do it; and lent a willing ear to his +wife's suspicions. + +Josephine's personal knowledge of the stranger went little further. +Doctor Duchesne had confessed to her his professional disappointment +at the incomplete results of the operation. He had saved the man's +life, but as yet not his reason. There was still hope, however, for +the diagnosis revealed nothing that might prejudice a favorable +progress. It was a most interesting case. He would watch it +carefully, and as soon as the patient could be removed would take +him to the county hospital, where, under his own eyes, the poor +fellow would have the benefit of the latest science and the highest +specialists. Physically, he was doing remarkably well; indeed, he +must have been a fine young chap, free from blood taint or vicious +complication, whose flesh had healed like an infant's. It should be +recorded that it was at this juncture that Mrs. Forsyth first learnt +that a SILVER PLATE let into the artful stranger's skull was an +adjunct of the healing process! Convinced that this infamous +extravagance was part and parcel of the conspiracy, and was only +the beginning of other assimilations of the Forsyths' metallic +substance; that the plate was probably polished and burnished with a +fulsome inscription to the doctor's skill, and would pass into the +possession and adornment of a perfect stranger, her rage knew no +bounds. He or his friends ought to be made to pay for it or work it +out! In vain it was declared that a few dollars were all that was +found in the man's pocket, and that no memoranda gave any indication +of his name, friends, or history beyond the suggestion that he came +from a distance. This was clearly a part of the conspiracy! Even +Josephine's practical good sense was obliged to take note of this +singular absence of all record regarding him, and the apparent +obliteration of everything that might be responsible for his +ultimate fate. + +Homeless, friendless, helpless, and even nameless, the unfortunate +man of twenty-five was thus left to the tender mercies of the +mistress of Burnt Ridge Ranch, as if he had been a new-born +foundling laid at her door. But this mere claim of weakness was +not all; it was supplemented by a singular personal appeal to +Josephine's nature. From the time that he turned his head towards +her voice on that fateful night, his eyes had always followed her +around the room with a wondering, yearning, canine half- +intelligence. Without being able to convince herself that he +understood her better than his regular attendant furnished by the +doctor, she could not fail to see that he obeyed her implicitly, +and that whenever any difficulty arose between him and his nurse +she was always appealed to. Her pride in this proof of her +practical sovereignty WAS flattered; and when Doctor Duchesne +finally admitted that although the patient was now physically able +to be removed to the hospital, yet he would lose in the change that +very strong factor which Josephine had become in his mental +recovery, the young girl as frankly suggested that he should stay +as long as there was any hope of restoring his reason. Doctor +Duchesne was delighted. With all his enthusiasm for science, he +had a professional distrust of some of its disciples, and perhaps +was not sorry to keep this most interesting case in his own hands. +To him her suggestion was only a womanly kindness, tempered with +womanly curiosity. But the astonishment and stupefaction of her +parents at this evident corroboration of suspicions they had as yet +only half believed was tinged with superstitious dread. Had she +fallen in love with this helpless stranger? or, more awful to +contemplate, was he really no stranger, but a surreptitious lover +thus strategically brought under her roof? For once they refrained +from open criticism. The very magnitude of their suspicions left +them dumb. + +It was thus that the virgin Chatelaine of Burnt Ridge Ranch was +left to gaze untrammeled upon her pale and handsome guest, whose +silken, bearded lips and sad, childlike eyes might have suggested a +more Exalted Sufferer in their absence of any suggestion of a +grosser material manhood. But even this imaginative appeal did not +enter into her feelings. She felt for her good-looking, helpless +patient a profound and honest pity. I do not know whether she had +ever heard that "pity was akin to love." She would probably have +resented that utterly untenable and atrocious commonplace. There +was no suggestion, real or illusive, of any previous masterful +quality in the man which might have made his present dependent +condition picturesque by contrast. He had come to her handicapped +by an unromantic accident and a practical want of energy and +intellect. He would have to touch her interest anew if, indeed, he +would ever succeed in dispelling the old impression. His beauty, +in a community of picturesquely handsome men, had little weight +with her, except to accent the contrast with their fuller manhood. + +Her life had given her no illusions in regard to the other sex. +She had found them, however, more congenial and safer companions +than women, and more accessible to her own sense of justice and +honor. In return, they had respected and admired rather than +loved her, in spite of her womanly graces. If she had at times +contemplated eventual marriage, it was only as a possible practical +partnership in her business; but as she lived in a country where +men thought it dishonorable and a proof of incompetency to rise by +their wives' superior fortune, she had been free from that kind of +mercenary persecution, even from men who might have worshiped her +in hopeless and silent honor. + +For this reason, there was nothing in the situation that suggested +a single compromising speculation in the minds of the neighbors, or +disturbed her own tranquillity. There seemed to be nothing in the +future except a possible relief to her curiosity. Some day the +unfortunate man's reason would be restored, and he would tell his +simple history. Perhaps he might explain what was in his mind when +he turned to her the first evening with that singular sentence +which had often recurred strangely to her, she knew not why. It +did not strike her until later that it was because it had been the +solitary indication of an energy and capacity that seemed unlike +him. Nevertheless, after that explanation, she would have been +quite willing to have shaken hands with him and parted. + +And yet--for there was an unexpressed remainder in her thought-- +she was never entirely free or uninfluenced in his presence. The +flickering vacancy of his sad eyes sometimes became fixed with a +resolute immobility under the gentle questioning with which she had +sought to draw out his faculties, that both piqued and exasperated +her. He could say "Yes" and "No," as she thought intelligently, +but he could not utter a coherent sentence nor write a word, except +like a child in imitation of his copy. She taught him to repeat +after her the names of the inanimate objects in the room, then the +names of the doctor, his attendant, the servant, and, finally, her +own under her Christian prenomen, with frontier familiarity; but +when she pointed to himself he waited for HER to name him! In vain +she tried him with all the masculine names she knew; his was not +one of them, or he would not or could not speak it. For at times +she rejected the professional dictum of the doctor that the faculty +of memory was wholly paralyzed or held in abeyance, even to the +half-automatic recollection of his letters, yet she inconsistently +began to teach him the alphabet with the same method, and--in her +sublime unconsciousness of his manhood--with the same discipline as +if he were a very child. When he had recovered sufficiently to +leave his room, she would lead him to the porch before her window, +and make him contented and happy by allowing him to watch her at +work at her desk, occasionally answering his wondering eyes with a +word, or stirring his faculties with a question. I grieve to say +that her parents had taken advantage of this publicity and his +supposed helpless condition to show their disgust of his assumption, +to the extreme of making faces at him--an act which he resented with +such a furious glare that they retreated hurriedly to their own +veranda. A fresh though somewhat inconsistent grievance was added +to their previous indictment of him: "If we ain't found dead in our +bed with our throats cut by that woman's crazy husband" (they had +settled by this time that there had been a clandestine marriage), +"we'll be lucky," groaned Mrs. Forsyth. + +Meantime, the mountain summer waxed to its fullness of fire and +fruition. There were days when the crowded forest seemed choked +and impeded with its own foliage, and pungent and stifling with its +own rank maturity; when the long hillside ranks of wild oats, +thickset and impassable, filled the air with the heated dust of +germination. In this quickening irritation of life it would be +strange if the unfortunate man's torpid intellect was not helped in +its awakening, and he was allowed to ramble at will over the ranch; +but with the instinct of a domestic animal he always returned to +the house, and sat in the porch, where Josephine usually found him +awaiting her when she herself returned from a visit to the mill. +Coming thence one day she espied him on the mountain-side leaning +against a projecting ledge in an attitude so rapt and immovable +that she felt compelled to approach him. He appeared to be dumbly +absorbed in the prospect, which might have intoxicated a saner +mind. + +Half veiled by the heat that rose quiveringly from the fiery canyon +below, the domain of Burnt Ridge stretched away before him, until, +lifted in successive terraces hearsed and plumed with pines, it +was at last lost in the ghostly snow-peaks. But the practical +Josephine seized the opportunity to try once more to awaken the +slumbering memory of her pupil. Following his gaze with signs and +questions, she sought to draw from him some indication of familiar +recollection of certain points of the map thus unrolled behind him. +But in vain. She even pointed out the fateful shadow of the +overhanging ledge on the road where she had picked him up--there +was no response in his abstracted eyes. She bit her lips; she was +becoming irritated again. Then it occurred to her that, instead of +appealing to his hopeless memory, she had better trust to some +unreflective automatic instinct independent of it, and she put the +question a little forward: "When you leave us, where will you go +from here?" He stirred slightly, and turned towards her. She +repeated her query slowly and patiently, with signs and gestures +recognized between them. A faint glow of intelligence struggled +into his eyes: he lifted his arm slowly, and pointed. + +"Ah! those white peaks--the Sierras?" she asked, eagerly. No +reply. "Beyond them?" + +"Yes." + +"The States?" No reply. "Further still?" + +He remained so patiently quiet and still pointing that she leaned +forward, and, following with her eyes the direction of his hand, +saw that he was pointing to the sky! + +Then a great quiet fell upon them. The whole mountain-side seemed +to her to be hushed, as if to allow her to grasp and realize for +the first time the pathos of the ruined life at her side, which IT +had known so long, but which she had never felt till now. The +tears came to her eyes; in her swift revulsion of feeling she +caught the thin uplifted hand between her own. It seemed to her +that he was about to raise them to his lips, but she withdrew them +hastily, and moved away. She had a strange fear that if he had +kissed them, it might seem as if some dumb animal had touched them-- +or--IT MIGHT NOT. The next day she felt a consciousness of this +in his presence, and a wish that he was well-cured and away. She +determined to consult Dr. Duchesne on the subject when he next +called. + +But the doctor, secure in the welfare of his patient, had not +visited him lately, and she found herself presently absorbed in the +business of the ranch, which at this season was particularly +trying. There had also been a quarrel between Dick Shipley, her +mill foreman, and Miguel, her ablest and most trusted vaquero, and +in her strict sense of impartial justice she was obliged to side on +the merits of the case with Shipley against her oldest retainer. +This troubled her, as she knew that with the Mexican nature, +fidelity and loyalty were not unmixed with quick and unreasoning +jealousy. For this reason she was somewhat watchful of the two men +when work was over, and there was a chance of their being thrown +together. Once or twice she had remained up late to meet Miguel +returning from the posada at San Ramon, filled with aguardiente and +a recollection of his wrongs, and to see him safely bestowed before +she herself retired. It was on one of those occasions, however, +that she learned that Dick Shipley, hearing that Miguel had +disparaged him freely at the posada, had broken the discipline of +the ranch, and absented himself the same night that Miguel "had +leave," with a view of facing his antagonist on his own ground. To +prevent this, the fearless girl at once secretly set out alone to +overtake and bring back the delinquent. + +For two or three hours the house was thus left to the sole +occupancy of Mr. and Mrs. Forsyth and the invalid--a fact only +dimly suspected by the latter, who had become vaguely conscious of +Josephine's anxiety, and had noticed the absence of light and +movement in her room. For this reason, therefore, having risen +again and mechanically taken his seat in the porch to await her +return, he was startled by hearing HER voice in the shadow of the +lower porch, accompanied by a hurried tapping against the door of +the old couple. The half-reasoning man arose, and would have moved +towards it, but suddenly he stopped rigidly, with white and parted +lips and vacantly distended eyeballs. + +Meantime the voice and muffled tapping had brought the tremulous +fingers of old Forsyth to the door-latch. He opened the door +partly; a slight figure that had been lurking in the shadow of the +porch pushed rapidly through the opening. There was a faint outcry +quickly hushed, and the door closed again. The rays of a single +candle showed the two old people hysterically clasping in their +arms the figure that had entered--a slight but vicious-looking +young fellow of five-and-twenty. + +"There, d--n it!" he said impatiently, in a voice whose rich depth +was like Josephine's, but whose querulous action was that of the +two old people before him, "let me go, and quit that, I didn't come +here to be strangled! I want some money--money, you hear! +Devilish quick, too, for I've got to be off again before daylight. +So look sharp, will you?" + +"But, Stevy dear, when you didn't come that time three months ago, +but wrote from Los Angeles, you said you'd made a strike at last, +and"-- + +"What are you talking about?" he interrupted violently. "That was +just my lyin' to keep you from worryin' me. Three months ago-- +three months ago! Why, you must have been crazy to have swallowed +it; I hadn't a cent." + +"Nor have we," said the old woman, shrilly. "That hellish sister +of yours still keeps us like beggars. Our only hope was you, our +own boy. And now you only come to--to go again." + +"But SHE has money; SHE'S doing well, and SHE shall give it to me," +he went on, angrily. "She can't bully me with her business airs +and morality. Who else has got a right to share, if it is not her +own brother?" + +Alas for the fatuousness of human malevolence! Had the unhappy +couple related only the simple facts they knew about the new guest +of Burnt Ridge Ranch, and the manner of his introduction, they +might have spared what followed. + +But the old woman broke into a vindictive cry: "Who else, Steve-- +who else? Why, the slut has brought a MAN here--a sneaking, +deceitful, underhanded, crazy lover!" + +"Oh, has she?" said the young man, fiercely, yet secretly pleased +at this promising evidence of his sister's human weakness. "Where +is she? I'll go to her. She's in her room, I suppose," and before +they could restrain him, he had thrown off their impeding embraces +and darted across the hall. + +The two old people stared doubtfully at each other. For even this +powerful ally, whose strength, however, they were by no means sure +of, might succumb before the determined Josephine! Prudence +demanded a middle course. "Ain't they brother and sister?" said +the old man, with an air of virtuous toleration. "Let 'em fight it +out." + +The young man impatiently entered the room he remembered to have +been his sister's. By the light of the moon that streamed upon the +window he could see she was not there. He passed hurriedly to the +door of her bedroom; it was open; the room was empty, the bed +unturned. She was not in the house--she had gone to the mill. Ah! +What was that they had said? An infamous thought passed through +the scoundrel's mind. Then, in what he half believed was an access +of virtuous fury, he began by the dim light to rummage in the +drawers of the desk for such loose coin or valuables as, in the +perfect security of the ranch, were often left unguarded. Suddenly +he heard a heavy footstep on the threshold, and turned. + +An awful vision--a recollection, so unexpected, so ghostlike in +that weird light that he thought he was losing his senses--stood +before him. It moved forwards with staring eyeballs and white and +open lips from which a horrible inarticulate sound issued that was +the speech of no living man! With a single desperate, almost +superhuman effort Stephen Forsyth bounded aside, leaped from the +window, and ran like a madman from the house. Then the apparition +trembled, collapsed, and sank in an undistinguishable heap to the +ground. + +When Josephine Forsyth returned an hour later with her mill +foreman, she was startled to find her helpless patient in a fit on +the floor of her room. With the assistance of her now converted +and penitent employee, she had the unfortunate man conveyed to his +room--but not until she had thoughtfully rearranged the disorder of +her desk and closed the open drawers without attracting Dick +Shipley's attention. In the morning, hearing that the patient was +still in the semiconscious exhaustion of his late attack, but +without seeing him, she sent for Dr. Duchesne. The doctor arrived +while she was absent at the mill, where, after a careful +examination of his patient, he sought her with some little +excitement. + +"Well?" she said, with eager gravity. + +"Well, it looks as if your wish would be gratified. Your friend +has had an epileptic fit, but the physical shock has started his +mental machinery again. He has recovered his faculties; his memory +is returning: he thinks and speaks coherently; he is as sane as you +and I." + +"And"--said Josephine, questioning the doctor's knitted eyebrows. + +"I am not yet sure whether it was the result of some shock he +doesn't remember; or an irritation of the brain, which would +indicate that the operation had not been successful and that there +was still some physical pressure or obstruction there--in which +case he would be subject to these attacks all his life." + +"Do you think his reason came before the fit or after?" asked the +girl, anxiously. + +"I couldn't say. Had anything happened?" + +"I was away, and found him on the floor on my return," she +answered, half uneasily. After a pause she said, "Then he has +told you his name and all about himself?" + +"Yes, it's nothing at all! He was a stranger just arrived from +the States, going to the mines--the old story; had no near +relations, of course; wasn't missed or asked after; remembers +walking along the ridge and falling over; name, John Baxter, of +Maine." He paused, and relaxing into a slight smile, added, "I +haven't spoiled your romance, have I?" + +"No," she said, with an answering smile. Then as the doctor walked +briskly away she slightly knitted her pretty brows, hung her head, +patted the ground with her little foot beyond the hem of her gown, +and said to herself, "The man was lying to him." + + +CHAPTER III + + +On her return to the house, Josephine apparently contented herself +with receiving the bulletin of the stranger's condition from the +servant, for she did not enter his room. She had obtained no +theory of last night's incident from her parents, who, beyond a +querulous agitation that was quickened by the news of his return to +reason, refrained from even that insidious comment which she half +feared would follow. When another day passed without her seeing +him, she nevertheless was conscious of a little embarrassment when +his attendant brought her the request that she would give him a +moment's speech in the porch, whither he had been removed. + +She found him physically weaker; indeed, so much so that she was +fain, even in her embarrassment, to assist him back to the bench +from which he had ceremoniously risen. But she was so struck with +the change in his face and manner, a change so virile and +masterful, in spite of its gentle sadness of manner, that she +recoiled with a slight timidity as if he had been a stranger, +although she was also conscious that he seemed to be more at his +ease than she was. He began in a low exhausted voice, but before +he had finished his first sentence, she felt herself in the +presence of a superior. + +"My thanks come very late, Miss Forsyth," he said, with a faint +smile, "but no one knows better than yourself the reason why, or +can better understand that they mean that the burden you have so +generously taken on yourself is about to be lifted. I know all, +Miss Forsyth. Since yesterday I have learned how much I owe you, +even my life I believe, though I am afraid I must tell you in the +same breath that THAT is of little worth to any one. You have +kindly helped and interested yourself in a poor stranger who turns +out to be a nobody, without friends, without romance, and without +even mystery. You found me lying in the road down yonder, after a +stupid accident that might have happened to any other careless +tramp, and which scarcely gave me a claim to a bed in the county +hospital, much less under this kindly roof. It was not my fault, +as you know, that all this did not come out sooner; but while it +doesn't lessen your generosity, it doesn't lessen my debt, and +although I cannot hope to ever repay you, I can at least keep the +score from running on. Pardon my speaking so bluntly, but my +excuse for speaking at all was to say 'Good-by' and 'God bless +you.' Dr. Duchesne has promised to give me a lift on my way in his +buggy when he goes." + +There was a slight touch of consciousness in his voice in spite of +its sadness, which struck the young girl as a weak and even +ungentlemanly note in his otherwise self-abnegating and +undemonstrative attitude. If he was a common tramp, he wouldn't +talk in that way, and if he wasn't, why did he lie? Her practical +good sense here asserted itself. + +"But you are far from strong yet; in fact, the doctor says you +might have a relapse at any moment, and you have--that is, you SEEM +to have no money," she said gravely. + +"That's true," he said, quickly. "I remember I was quite played +out when I entered the settlement, and I think I had parted from +even some little trifles I carried with me. I am afraid I was a +poor find to those who picked me up, and you ought to have taken +warning. But the doctor has offered to lend me enough to take me +to San Francisco, if only to give a fair trial to the machine he +has set once more a-going." + +"Then you have friends in San Francisco?" said the young girl +quickly. "Those who know you? Why not write to them first, and +tell them you are here?" + +"I don't think your postmaster here would be preoccupied with +letters for John Baxter, if I did," he said, quietly. "But here +is the doctor waiting. Good-by." + +He stood looking at her in a peculiar, yet half-resigned way, and +held out his hand. For a moment she hesitated. Had he been less +independent and strong, she would have refused to let him go--have +offered him some slight employment at the ranch; for oddly enough, +in spite of the suspicion that he was concealing something, she +felt that she would have trusted him, and he would have been a help +to her. But he was not only determined, but SHE was all the time +conscious that he was a totally different man from the one she had +taken care of, and merely ordinary prudence demanded that she +should know something more of him first. She gave him her hand +constrainedly; he pressed it warmly. + +Dr. Duchesne drove up, helped him into the buggy, smiled a good- +natured but half-perfunctory assurance that he would look after +"her patient," and drove away. + +The whole thing was over, but so unexpectedly, so suddenly, so +unromantically, so unsatisfactorily, that, although her common +sense told her that it was perfectly natural, proper, business- +like, and reasonable, and, above all, final and complete, she did +not know whether to laugh or be angry. Yet this was her parting +from the man who had but a few days ago moved her to tears with a +single hopeless gesture. Well, this would teach her what to +expect. Well, what had she expected? Nothing! + +Yet for the rest of the day she was unreasonably irritable, and, +if the conjointure be not paradoxical, severely practical, and +inhumanly just. Falling foul of some presumption of Miguel's, +based upon his prescriptive rights through long service on the +estate, with the recollection of her severity towards his +antagonist in her mind, she rated that trusted retainer with such +pitiless equity and unfeminine logic that his hot Latin blood +chilled in his veins, and he stood livid on the road. Then, +informing Dick Shipley with equally relentless calm that she might +feel it necessary to change ALL her foremen unless they could agree +in harmony, she sought the dignified seclusion of her castle. But +her respected parents, whose triumphant relief at the stranger's +departure had emboldened them to await her return in their porch +with bended bows of invective and lifted javelins of aggression, +recoiled before the resistless helm of this cold-browed Minerva, +who galloped contemptuously past them. + +Nevertheless, she sat late that night at her desk. The cold moon +looked down upon her window, and lit up the empty porch where her +silent guest had mutely watched her. For a moment she regretted +that he had recovered his reason, excusing herself on the practical +ground that he would never have known his dependence, and he would +have been better cared for by her. She felt restless and uneasy. +This slight divergence from the practical groove in which her life +had been set had disturbed her in many other things, and given her +the first views of the narrowness of it. + +Suddenly she heard a step in the porch. The lateness of the hour, +perhaps some other reason, seemed to startle her, and she half +rose. The next moment the figure of Miguel appeared at the +doorway, and with a quick, hurried look around him, and at the open +window, he approached her. He was evidently under great excitement, +his hollow shaven cheek looked like a waxen effigy in the mission +church; his yellow, tobacco-stained eye glittered like phosphorescent +amber, his lank gray hair was damp and perspiring; but more striking +than this was the evident restraint he had put upon himself, +pressing his broad-brimmed sombrero with both of his trembling +yellow hands against his breast. The young girl cast a hurried +glance at the open window and at the gun which stood in the corner, +and then confronted him with clear and steady eyes, but a paler +cheek. + +Ah, he began in Spanish, which he himself had taught her as a +child, it was a strange thing, his coming there to-night; but, +then, mother of God! it was a strange, a terrible thing that she +had done to him--old Miguel, her uncle's servant: he that had known +her as a muchacha; he that had lived all his life at the ranch--ay, +and whose fathers before him had lived there all THEIR lives and +driven the cattle over the very spot where she now stood, before +the thieving Americans came here! But he would be calm; yes, the +senora should find him calm, even as she was when she told him to +go. He would not speak. No, he--Miguel--would contain himself; +yes, he HAD mastered himself, but could he restrain others? Ah, +yes, OTHERS--that was it. Could he keep Manuel and Pepe and +Dominguez from talking to the milkman--that leaking sieve, that +gabbling brute of a Shipley, for whose sake she had cast off her +old servant that very day? + +She looked at him with cold astonishment, but without fear. Was he +drunk with aguardiente, or had his jealousy turned his brain? He +continued gasping, but still pressing his hat against his breast. + +Ah, he saw it all! Yes, it was to-day, the day he left. Yes, she +had thought it safe to cast Miguel off now--now that HE was gone! + +Without in the least understanding him, the color had leaped to her +cheek, and the consciousness of it made her furious. + +"How dare you?" she said, passionately. "What has that stranger to +do with my affairs or your insolence?" + +He stopped and gazed at her with a certain admiring loyalty. "Ah! +so," he said, with a deep breath, "the senora is the niece of her +uncle. She does well not to fear HIM--a dog,"--with a slight +shrug,--"who is more than repaid by the senora's condescension. HE +dare not speak!" + +"Who dare not speak? Are you mad?" She stopped with a sudden +terrible instinct of apprehension. "Miguel," she said in her +deepest voice, "answer me, I command you! Do you know anything of +this man?" + +It was Miguel's turn to recoil from his mistress. "Ah, my God! is +it possible the senora has not suspect?" + +"Suspect!" said Josephine, haughtily, albeit her proud heart was +beating quickly. "I SUSPECT nothing. I command you to tell me +what you KNOW." + +Miguel turned with a rapid gesture and closed the door. Then, +drawing her away from the window, he said in a hurried whisper,-- + +"I know that that man has not the name of Baxter! I know that he +has the name of Randolph, a young gambler, who have won a large sum +at Sacramento, and, fearing to be robbed by those he won of, have +walk to himself through the road in disguise of a miner. I know +that your brother Esteban have decoyed him here, and have fallen on +him." + +"Stop!" said the young girl, her eyes, which had been fixed with +the agony of conviction, suddenly flashing with the energy of +despair. "And you call yourself the servant of my uncle, and dare +say this of his nephew?" + +"Yes, senora," broke out the old man, passionately. "It is because +I am the servant of your uncle that I, and I ALONE, dare say it to +you! It is because I perjured my soul, and have perjured my soul +to deny it elsewhere, that I now dare to say it! It is because I, +your servant, knew it from one of my countrymen, who was of the +gang,--because I, Miguel, knew that your brother was not far away +that night, and because I, whom you would dismiss, have picked up +this pocket-book of Randolph's and your brother's ring which he +have dropped, and I have found beneath the body of the man you sent +me to fetch." + +He drew a packet from his bosom, and tossed it on the desk before +her. + +"And why have you not told me this before?" said Josephine, +passionately. + +Miguel shrugged his shoulders. + +"What good? Possibly this dog Randolph would die. Possibly he +would live--as a lunatic. Possibly would happen what has happened! +The senora is beautiful. The American has eyes. If the Dona +Josephine's beauty shall finish what the silly Don Esteban's arm +have begun--what matter?" + +"Stop!" cried Josephine, pressing her hands across her shuddering +eyes. Then, uncovering her white and set face, she said rapidly, +"Saddle my horse and your own at once. Then take your choice! +Come with me and repeat all that you have said in the presence of +that man, or leave this ranch forever. For if I live I shall go to +him tonight, and tell the whole story." + +The old man cast a single glance at his mistress, shrugged his +shoulders, and, without a word, left the room. But in ten minutes +they were on their way to the county town. + +Day was breaking over the distant Burnt Ridge--a faint, ghostly +level, like a funeral pall, in the dim horizon--as they drew up +before the gaunt, white-painted pile of the hospital building. +Josephine uttered a cry. Dr. Duchesne's buggy was before the door. +On its very threshold they met the doctor, dark and irritated. +"Then you heard the news?" he said, quickly. + +Josephine turned her white face to the doctor's. "What news?" she +asked, in a voice that seemed strangely deep and resonant. + +"The poor fellow had another attack last night, and died of +exhaustion about an hour ago. I was too late to save him." + +"Did he say anything? Was he conscious?" asked the girl, hoarsely. + +"No; incoherent! Now I think of it, he harped on the same string +as he did the night of the operation. What was it he said? you +remember." + +"'You'll have to kill me first,'" repeated Josephine, in a choking +voice. + +"Yes; something about his dying before he'd tell. Well, he came +back to it before he went off--they often do. You seem a little +hoarse with your morning ride. You should take care of that voice +of yours. By the way, it's a good deal like your brother's." + + . . . . . . + +The Chatelaine of Burnt Ridge never married. + + + + +THROUGH THE SANTA CLARA WHEAT + + +CHAPTER I + + +It was an enormous wheat-field in the Santa Clara valley, +stretching to the horizon line unbroken. The meridian sun shone +upon it without glint or shadow; but at times, when a stronger gust +of the trade winds passed over it, there was a quick slanting +impression of the whole surface that was, however, as unlike a +billow as itself was unlike a sea. Even when a lighter zephyr +played down its long level, the agitation was superficial, and +seemed only to momentarily lift a veil of greenish mist that hung +above its immovable depths. Occasional puffs of dust alternately +rose and fell along an imaginary line across the field, as if a +current of air were passing through it, but were otherwise +inexplicable. + +Suddenly a faint shout, apparently somewhere in the vicinity of the +line, brought out a perfectly clear response, followed by the +audible murmur of voices, which it was impossible to localize. Yet +the whole field was so devoid of any suggestion of human life or +motion that it seemed rather as if the vast expanse itself had +become suddenly articulate and intelligible. + +"Wot say?" + +"Wheel off." + +"Whare?" + +"In the road." + +One of the voices here indicated itself in the direction of the +line of dust, and said, "Comin'," and a man stepped out from the +wheat into a broad and dusty avenue. + +With his presence three things became apparent. + +First, that the puffs of dust indicated the existence of the +invisible avenue through the unlimited and unfenced field of grain; +secondly, that the stalks of wheat on either side of it were so +tall as to actually hide a passing vehicle; and thirdly, that a +vehicle had just passed, had lost a wheel, and been dragged partly +into the grain by its frightened horse, which a dusty man was +trying to restrain and pacify. + +The horse, given up to equine hysterics, and evidently convinced +that the ordinary buggy behind him had been changed into some +dangerous and appalling creation, still plunged and kicked +violently to rid himself of it. The man who had stepped out of the +depths of the wheat quickly crossed the road, unhitched the traces, +drew back the vehicle, and, glancing at the traveler's dusty and +disordered clothes, said, with curt sympathy:-- + +"Spilt, too; but not hurt, eh?" + +"No, neither of us. I went over with the buggy when the wheel +cramped, but SHE jumped clear." + +He made a gesture indicating the presence of another. The man +turned quickly. There was a second figure, a young girl standing +beside the grain from which he had emerged, embracing a few stalks +of wheat with one arm and a hand in which she still held her +parasol, while she grasped her gathered skirts with the other, and +trying to find a secure foothold for her two neat narrow slippers +on a crumbling cake of adobe above the fathomless dust of the +roadway. Her face, although annoyed and discontented, was pretty, +and her light dress and slim figure were suggestive of a certain +superior condition. + +The man's manner at once softened with Western courtesy. He swung +his broad-brimmed hat from his head, and bent his body with the +ceremoniousness of the country ball-room. "I reckon the lady had +better come up to the shanty out o' the dust and sun till we kin +help you get these things fixed," he said to the driver. "I'll +send round by the road for your hoss, and have one of mine fetch up +your wagon." + +"Is it far?" asked the girl, slightly acknowledging his salutation, +without waiting for her companion to reply. + +"Only a step this way," he answered, motioning to the field of +wheat beside her. + +"What in THERE? I never could go in there," she said, decidedly. + +"It's a heap shorter than by the road, and not so dusty. I'll go +with you, and pilot you." + +The young girl cast a vexed look at her companion as the probable +cause of all this trouble, and shook her head. But at the same +moment one little foot slipped from the adobe into the dust again. +She instantly clambered back with a little feminine shriek, and +ejaculated: "Well, of all things!" and then, fixing her blue +annoyed eyes on the stranger, asked impatiently, "Why couldn't I go +there by the road 'n the wagon? I could manage to hold on and keep +in." + +"Because I reckon you'd find it too pow'ful hot waitin' here till +we got round to ye." + +There was no doubt it was very hot; the radiation from the baking +roadway beating up under her parasol, and pricking her cheekbones +and eyeballs like needles. She gave a fastidious little shudder, +furled her parasol, gathered her skirts still tighter, faced about, +and said, "Go on, then." The man slipped backwards into the ranks +of stalks, parting them with one hand, and holding out the other as +if to lead her. But she evaded the invitation by holding her +tightly-drawn skirt with both hands, and bending her head forward +as if she had not noticed it. The next moment the road, and even +the whole outer world, disappeared behind them, and they seemed +floating in a choking green translucent mist. + +But the effect was only momentary; a few steps further she found +that she could walk with little difficulty between the ranks of +stalks, which were regularly spaced, and the resemblance now +changed to that of a long pillared conservatory of greenish glass, +that touched all objects with its pervading hue. She also found +that the close air above her head was continually freshened by the +interchange of currents of lower temperature from below,--as if the +whole vast field had a circulation of its own,--and that the adobe +beneath her feet was gratefully cool to her tread. There was no +dust, as he had said; what had at first half suffocated her seemed +to be some stimulating aroma of creation that filled the narrow +green aisles, and now imparted a strange vigor and excitement to +her as she walked along. Meantime her guide was not conversationally +idle. Now, no doubt, she had never seen anything like this before? +It was ordinary wheat, only it was grown on adobe soil--the richest +in the valley. These stalks, she could see herself, were ten and +twelve feet high. That was the trouble, they all ran too much to +stalk, though the grain yield was "suthen' pow'ful." She could tell +that to her friends, for he reckoned she was the only young lady +that had ever walked under such a growth. Perhaps she was new to +Californy? He thought so from the start. Well, this was Californy, +and this was not the least of the ways it could "lay over" every +other country on God's yearth. Many folks thought it was the gold +and the climate, but she could see for herself what it could do with +wheat. He wondered if her brother had ever told, her of it? No, +the stranger wasn't her brother. Nor cousin, nor company? No; only +the hired driver from a San Jose hotel, who was takin' her over to +Major Randolph's. Yes, he knew the old major; the ranch was a +pretty place, nigh unto three miles further on. Now that he knew +the driver was no relation of hers he didn't mind telling her that +the buggy was a "rather old consarn," and the driver didn't know his +business. Yes, it might be fixed up so as to take her over to the +major's; there was one of their own men--a young fellow--who could +do anything that COULD be done with wood and iron,--a reg'lar +genius!--and HE'D tackle it. It might take an hour, but she'd find +it quite cool waiting in the shanty. It was a rough place, for they +only camped out there during the season to look after the crop, and +lived at their own homes the rest of the time. Was she going to +stay long at the major's? He noticed she had not brought her trunk +with her. Had she known the major's wife long? Perhaps she thought +of settling in the neighborhood? + +All this naive, good-humored questioning--so often cruelly +misunderstood as mere vulgar curiosity, but as often the courteous +instinct of simple unaffected people to entertain the stranger by +inviting him to talk of what concerns himself rather than their own +selves--was nevertheless, I fear, met only by monosyllables from +the young lady or an impatient question in return. She scarcely +raised her eyes to the broad jean-shirted back that preceded her +through the grain until the man abruptly ceased talking, and his +manner, without losing its half-paternal courtesy, became graver. +She was beginning to be conscious of her incivility, and was trying +to think of something to say, when he exclaimed with a slight air +of relief, "Here we are!" and the shanty suddenly appeared before +them. + +It certainly was very rough--a mere shell of unpainted boards that +scarcely rose above the level of the surrounding grain, and a few +yards distant was invisible. Its slightly sloping roof, already +warped and shrunken into long fissures that permitted glimpses of +the steel-blue sky above, was evidently intended only as a shelter +from the cloudless sun in those two months of rainless days and +dewless nights when it was inhabited. Through the open doors and +windows she could see a row of "bunks," or rude sleeping berths +against the walls, furnished with coarse mattresses and blankets. +As the young girl halted, the man with an instinct of delicacy +hurried forward, entered the shanty, and dragging a rude bench to +the doorway, placed it so that she could sit beneath the shade of +the roof, yet with her back to these domestic revelations. Two or +three men, who had been apparently lounging there, rose quietly, +and unobtrusively withdrew. Her guide brought her a tin cup of +deliciously cool water, exchanged a few hurried words with his +companions, and then disappeared with them, leaving her alone. + +Her first sense of relief from their company was, I fear, stronger +than any other feeling. After a hurried glance around the deserted +apartment, she arose, shook out her dress and mantle, and then +going into the darkest corner supported herself with one hand +against the wall while with the other she drew off, one by one, her +slippers from her slim, striped-stockinged feet, shook and blew out +the dust that had penetrated within, and put them on again. Then, +perceiving a triangular fragment of looking-glass nailed against +the wall, she settled the strings of her bonnet by the aid of its +reflection, patted the fringe of brown hair on her forehead with +her separated five fingers as if playing an imaginary tune on her +brow, and came back with maidenly abstraction to the doorway. + +Everything was quiet, and her seclusion seemed unbroken. A smile +played for an instant in the soft shadows of her eyes and mouth as +she recalled the abrupt withdrawal of the men. Then her mouth +straightened and her brows slightly bent. It was certainly very +unmannerly in them to go off in that way. "Good heavens! couldn't +they have stayed around without talking? Surely it didn't require +four men to go and bring up that wagon!" She picked up her parasol +from the bench with an impatient little jerk. Then she held out +her ungloved hand into the hot sunshine beyond the door with the +gesture she would have used had it been raining, and withdrew it as +quickly--her hand quite scorched in the burning rays. Nevertheless, +after another impatient pause she desperately put up her parasol +and stepped from the shanty. + +Presently she was conscious of a faint sound of hammering not far +away. Perhaps there was another shed, but hidden, like everything +else, in this monotonous, ridiculous grain. Some stalks, however, +were trodden down and broken around the shanty; she could move more +easily and see where she was going. To her delight, a few steps +further brought her into a current of the trade-wind and a cooler +atmosphere. And a short distance beyond them, certainly, was the +shed from which the hammering proceeded. She approached it boldly. + +It was simply a roof upheld by rude uprights and crossbeams, and +open to the breeze that swept through it. At one end was a small +blacksmith's forge, some machinery, and what appeared to be part of +a small steam-engine. Midway of the shed was a closet or cupboard +fastened with a large padlock. Occupying its whole length on the +other side was a work-bench, and at the further end stood the +workman she had heard. + +He was apparently only a year or two older than herself, and clad +in blue jean overalls, blackened and smeared with oil and coal- +dust. Even his youthful face, which he turned towards her, had a +black smudge running across it and almost obliterating a small +auburn moustache. The look of surprise that he gave her, however, +quickly passed; he remained patiently and in a half-preoccupied +way, holding his hammer in his hand, as she advanced. This was +evidently the young fellow who could "do anything that could be +done with wood and iron." + +She was very sorry to disturb him, but could he tell her how long +it would be before the wagon could be brought up and mended? He +could not say that until he himself saw what was to be done; if it +was only a matter of the wheel he could fix it up in a few moments; +if, as he had been told, it was a case of twisted or bent axle, it +would take longer, but it would be here very soon. Ah, then, would +he let her wait here, as she was very anxious to know at once, and +it was much cooler than in the shed? Certainly; he would go over +and bring her a bench. But here she begged he wouldn't trouble +himself, she could sit anywhere comfortably. + +The lower end of the work-bench was covered with clean and odorous +shavings; she lightly brushed them aside and, with a youthful +movement, swung herself to a seat upon it, supporting herself on +one hand as she leaned towards him. She could thus see that his +eyes were of a light-yellowish brown, like clarified honey, with a +singular look of clear concentration in them, which, however, was +the same whether turned upon his work, the surrounding grain, or +upon her. This, and his sublime unconsciousness of the smudge +across his face and his blackened hands, made her wonder if the man +who could do everything with wood and iron was above doing anything +with water. She had half a mind to tell him of it, particularly as +she noticed also that his throat below the line of sunburn +disclosed by his open collar was quite white, and his grimy hands +well made. She was wondering whether he would be affronted if she +said in her politest way, "I beg your pardon, but do you know you +have quite accidentally got something on your face," and offer her +handkerchief, which, of course, he would decline, when her eye fell +on the steam-engine. + +"How odd! Do you use that on the farm?" + +"No,"--he smiled here, the smudge accenting it and setting off his +white teeth in a Christy Minstrel fashion that exasperated her--no, +although it COULD be used, and had been. But it was his first +effort, made two years ago, when he was younger and more +inexperienced. It was a rather rough thing, she could see--but he +had to make it at odd times with what iron he could pick up or pay +for, and at different forges where he worked. + +She begged his pardon--where-- + +WHERE HE WORKED. + +Ah, then he was the machinist or engineer here? + +No, he worked here just like the others, only he was allowed to put +up a forge while the grain was green, and have his bench in +consideration of the odd jobs he could do in the way of mending +tools, etc. There was a heap of mending and welding to do--she had +no idea how quickly agricultural machines got out of order! He had +done much of his work on the steam-engine on moonlit nights. Yes; +she had no idea how perfectly clear and light it was here in the +valley on such nights; although of course the shadows were very +dark, and when he dropped a screw or a nut it was difficult to +find. He had worked there because it saved time and because it +didn't cost anything, and he had nobody to look on or interfere +with him. No, it was not lonely; the coyotes and wild cats +sometimes came very near, but were always more surprised and +frightened than he was; and once a horseman who had strayed off the +distant road yonder mistook him for an animal and shot at him +twice. + +He told all this with such freedom from embarrassment and with such +apparent unconsciousness of the blue eyes that were following him, +and the light, graceful figure,--which was so near his own that in +some of his gestures his grimy hands almost touched its delicate +garments,--that, accustomed as she was to a certain masculine +aberration in her presence, she was greatly amused by his naive +acceptance of her as an equal. Suddenly, looking frankly in her +face, he said: + +"I'll show you a secret, if you care to see it." + +Nothing would please her more. + +He glanced hurriedly around, took a key from his pocket, and +unlocked the padlock that secured the closet she had noticed. +Then, reaching within, with infinite care he brought out a small +mechanical model. + +"There's an invention of my own. A reaper and thresher combined. +I'm going to have it patented and have a big one made from this +model. This will work, as you see." + +He then explained to her with great precision how as it moved over +the field the double operation was performed by the same motive +power. That it would be a saving of a certain amount of labor and +time which she could not remember. She did not understand a word +of his explanations; she saw only a clean and pretty but +complicated toy that under the manipulation of his grimy fingers +rattled a number of frail-like staves and worked a number of wheels +and drums, yet there was no indication of her ignorance in her +sparkling eyes and smiling, breathless attitude. Perhaps she was +interested in his own absorption; the revelation of his preoccupation +with this model struck her as if he had made her a confidante of +some boyish passion for one of her own sex, and she regarded him +with the same sympathizing superiority. + +"You will make a fortune out of it," she said pleasantly. + +Well, he might make enough to be able to go on with some other +inventions he had in his mind. They cost money and time, no matter +how careful one was. + +This was another interesting revelation to the young girl. He not +only did not seem to care for the profit his devotion brought him, +but even his one beloved ideal might be displaced by another. So +like a man, after all! + +Her reflections were broken upon by the sound of voices. The young +man carefully replaced the model in its closet with a parting +glance as if he was closing a shrine, and said, "There comes the +wagon." The young girl turned to face the men who were dragging it +from the road, with the half-complacent air of having been +victorious over their late rude abandonment, but they did not seem +to notice it or to be surprised at her companion, who quickly +stepped forward and examined the broken vehicle with workmanlike +deliberation. + +"I hope you will be able to do something with it," she said +sweetly, appealing directly to him. "I should thank you SO MUCH." + +He did not reply. Presently he looked up to the man who had +brought her to the shanty, and said, "The axle's strained, but it's +safe for five or six miles more of this road. I'll put the wheel +on easily." He paused, and without glancing at her, continued, +"You might send her on by the cart." + +"Pray don't trouble yourselves," interrupted the young girl, with a +pink uprising in her cheeks; "I shall be quite satisfied with the +buggy as it stands." Send her on in the cart, indeed! Really, +they were a rude set--ALL of them." + +Without taking the slightest notice of her remark, the man replied +gravely to the young mechanic, "Yes, but we'll be wanting the cart +before it can get back from taking her." + +"Her" again. "I assure you the buggy will serve perfectly well-- +if this--gentleman--will only be kind enough to put on the wheel +again," she returned hotly. + +The young mechanic at once set to work. The young girl walked +apart silently until the wheel was restored to its axle. But to +her surprise a different horse was led forward to be harnessed. + +"We thought your horse wasn't safe in case of another accident," +said the first man, with the same smileless consideration. "This +one wouldn't cut up if he was harnessed to an earthquake or a worse +driver than you've got." + +It occurred to her instantly that the more obvious remedy of +sending another driver had been already discussed and rejected by +them. Yet, when her own driver appeared a moment afterwards, she +ascended to her seat with some dignity and a slight increase of +color. + +"I am very much obliged to you all," she said, without glancing at +the young inventor. + +"Don't mention it, miss." + +"Good afternoon." + +"Good afternoon." They all took off their hats with the same +formal gravity as the horse moved forward, but turned back to their +work again before she was out of the field. + + +CHAPTER II + + +The ranch of Major Randolph lay on a rich falda of the Coast Range, +and overlooked the great wheat plains that the young girl had just +left. The house of wood and adobe, buried to its first story in +rose-trees and passion vines, was large and commodious. Yet it +contained only the major, his wife, her son and daughter, and the +few occasional visitors from San Francisco whom he entertained, and +she tolerated. + +For the major's household was not entirely harmonious. While a +young infantry subaltern at a Gulf station, he had been attracted +by the piquant foreign accent and dramatic gestures of a French +Creole widow, and--believing them, in the first flush of his +youthful passion more than an offset to the encumbrance of her two +children who, with the memory of various marital infidelities were +all her late husband had left her--had proposed, been accepted, and +promptly married to her. Before he obtained his captaincy, she had +partly lost her accent, and those dramatic gestures, which had +accented the passion of their brief courtship, began to intensify +domestic altercation and the bursts of idle jealousy to which she +was subject. Whether she was revenging herself on her second +husband for the faults of her first is not known, but it was +certain that she brought an unhallowed knowledge of the weaknesses, +cheap cynicism, and vanity of a foreign predecessor, to sit in +judgment upon the simple-minded and chivalrous American soldier who +had succeeded him, and who was, in fact, the most loyal of +husbands. The natural result of her skepticism was an espionage +and criticism of the wives of the major's brother officers that +compelled a frequent change of quarters. When to this was finally +added a racial divergence and antipathy, the public disparagement +of the customs and education of her female colleagues, and the +sudden insistence of a foreign and French dominance in her +household beyond any ordinary Creole justification, Randolph, +presumably to avoid later international complications, resigned +while he was as yet a major. Luckily his latest banishment to an +extreme Western outpost had placed him in California during the +flood of a speculation epoch. He purchased a valuable Spanish +grant to three leagues of land for little over a three months' pay. +Following that yearning which compels retired ship-captains and +rovers of all degrees to buy a farm in their old days, the major, +professionally and socially inured to border strife, sought +surcease and Arcadian repose in ranching. + +It was here that Mrs. Randolph, late relict of the late Scipion +L'Hommadieu, devoted herself to bringing up her children after the +extremest of French methods, and in resurrecting a "de" from her +own family to give a distinct and aristocratic character to their +name. The "de Fontanges l'Hommadieu" were, however, only known to +their neighbors, after the Western fashion, by their stepfather's +name,--when they were known at all--which was seldom. For the boy +was unpleasantly conceited as a precocious worldling, and the girl +as unpleasantly complacent in her role of ingenue. The household +was completely dominated by Mrs. Randolph. A punctilious Catholic, +she attended all the functions of the adjacent mission, and the +shadow of a black soutane at twilight gliding through the wild oat- +fields behind the ranch had often been mistaken for a coyote. The +peace-loving major did not object to a piety which, while it left +his own conscience free, imparted a respectable religious air to +his household, and kept him from the equally distasteful approaches +of the Puritanism of his neighbors, and was blissfully unconscious +that he was strengthening the antagonistic foreign element in his +family with an alien church. + +Meantime, as the repaired buggy was slowly making its way towards +his house, Major Randolph entered his wife's boudoir with a letter +which the San Francisco post had just brought him. A look of +embarrassment on his good-humored face strengthened the hard lines +of hers; she felt some momentary weakness of her natural enemy, and +prepared to give battle. + +"I'm afraid here's something of a muddle, Josephine," he began with +a deprecating smile. "Mallory, who was coming down here with his +daughter, you know"-- + +"This is the first intimation I have had that anything has been +settled upon," interrupted the lady, with appalling deliberation. + +"However, my dear, you know I told you last week that he thought of +bringing her here while he went South on business. You know, being +a widower, he has no one to leave her with." + +"And I suppose it is the American fashion to intrust one's +daughters to any old boon companions?" + +"Mallory is an old friend," interrupted the major, impatiently. +"He knows I'm married, and although he has never seen YOU, he is +quite willing to leave his daughter here." + +"Thank you!" + +"Come, you know what I mean. The man naturally believes that my +wife will be a proper chaperone for his daughter. But that is not +the present question. He intended to call here; I expected to take +you over to San Jose to see her and all that, you know; but the +fact of it is--that is--it seems from this letter that--he's been +called away sooner than he expected, and that--well--hang it! the +girl is actually on her way here now." + +"Alone?" + +"I suppose so. You know one thinks nothing of that here." + +"Or any other propriety, for that matter." + +"For heaven's sake, Josephine, don't be ridiculous! Of course it's +stupid her coming in this way, and Mallory ought to have brought +her--but she's coming, and we must receive her. By Jove! Here she +is now!" he added, starting up after a hurried glance through the +window. "But what kind of a d----d turn-out is that, anyhow?" + +It certainly was an odd-looking conveyance that had entered the +gates, and was now slowly coming up the drive towards the house. +A large draught horse harnessed to a dust-covered buggy, whose +strained fore-axle, bent by the last mile of heavy road, had +slanted the tops of the fore-wheels towards each other at an +alarming angle. The light, graceful dress and elegant parasol of +the young girl, who occupied half of its single seat, looked +ludicrously pronounced by the side of the slouching figure and +grimy duster of the driver, who occupied the other half. + +Mrs. Randolph gave a gritty laugh. "I thought you said she was +alone. Is that an escort she has picked up, American fashion, on +the road?" + +"That's her hired driver, no doubt. Hang it! she can't drive here +by herself," retorted the major, impatiently, hurrying to the door +and down the staircase. But he was instantly followed by his wife. +She had no idea of permitting a possible understanding to be +exchanged in their first greeting. The late M. l'Hommadieu had +been able to impart a whole plan of intrigue in a single word and +glance. + +Happily, Rose Mallory, already in the hall, in a few words detailed +the accident that had befallen her, to the honest sympathy of the +major and the coldly-polite concern of Mrs. Randolph, who, in +deliberately chosen sentences, managed to convey to the young girl +the conviction that accidents of any kind to young ladies were to +be regarded as only a shade removed from indiscretions. Rose was +impressed, and even flattered, by the fastidiousness of this +foreign-appearing woman, and after the fashion of youthful natures, +accorded to her the respect due to recognized authority. When to +this authority, which was evident, she added a depreciation of the +major, I fear that some common instinct of feminine tyranny +responded in Rose's breast, and that on the very threshold of the +honest soldier's home she tacitly agreed with the wife to look down +upon him. Mrs. Randolph departed to inform her son and daughter of +their guest's arrival. As a matter of fact, however, they had +already observed her approach to the house through the slits of +their drawn window-blinds, and those even narrower prejudices and +limited comprehensions which their education had fostered. The +girl, Adele, had only grasped the fact that Rose had come to their +house in fine clothes, alone with a man, in a broken-down vehicle, +and was moved to easy mirth and righteous wonder. The young man, +Emile, had agreed with her, with the mental reservation that the +guest was pretty, and must eventually fall in love with him. They +both, however, welcomed her with a trained politeness and a +superficial attention that, while the indifference of her own +countrymen in the wheat-field was still fresh in her recollection, +struck her with grateful contrast; the major's quiet and unobtrusive +kindliness naturally made less impression, or was accepted as a +matter of course. + +"Well," said the major, cheerfully but tentatively, to his wife +when they were alone again, "she seems a nice girl, after all; and +a good deal of pluck and character, by Jove! to push on in that +broken buggy rather than linger or come in a farm cart, eh?" + +"She was alone in that wheat-field," said Mrs. Randolph, with grim +deliberation, "for half an hour; she confesses it herself--TALKING +WITH A YOUNG MAN!" + +"Yes, but the others had gone for the buggy. And, in the name of +Heaven, what would you have her do--hide herself in the grain?" +said the major, desperately. "Besides," he added, with a +recklessness he afterwards regretted, "that mechanical chap they've +got there is really intelligent and worth talking to." + +"I have no doubt SHE thought so," said Mrs. Randolph, with a +mirthless smile. "In fact, I have observed that the American +freedom generally means doing what you WANT to do. Indeed, I +wonder she didn't bring him with her! Only I beg, major, that you +will not again, in the presence of my daughter,--and I may even +say, of my son,--talk lightly of the solitary meetings of young +ladies with mechanics, even though their faces were smutty, and +their clothes covered with oil." + +The major here muttered something about there being less danger in +a young lady listening to the intelligence of a coarsely-dressed +laborer than to the compliments of a rose-scented fop, but Mrs. +Randolph walked out of the room before he finished the evident +platitude. + +That night Rose Mallory retired to her room in a state of sell- +satisfaction that she even felt was to a certain extent a virtue. +She was delighted with her reception and with her hostess and +family. It was strange her father had not spoken more of MRS. +Randolph, who was clearly the superior of his old friend. What +fine manners they all had, so different from other people she had +known! There was quite an Old World civilization about them; +really, it was like going abroad! She would make the most of her +opportunity and profit by her visit. She would begin by improving +her French; they spoke it perfectly, and with such a pure accent. +She would correct certain errors she was conscious of in her own +manners, and copy Mrs. Randolph as much as possible. Certainly, +there was a great deal to be said of Mrs. Randolph's way of looking +at things. Now she thought of it calmly, there WAS too much +informality and freedom in American ways! There was not enough +respect due to position and circumstances. Take those men in the +wheat-field, for example. Yet here she found it difficult to +formulate an indictment against them for "freedom." She would like +to go there some day with the Randolphs and let them see what +company manners were! She was thoroughly convinced now that her +father had done wrong in sending her alone; it certainly was most +disrespectful to them and careless of him (she had quite forgotten +that she had herself proposed to her father to go alone rather than +wait at the hotel), and she must have looked very ridiculous in her +fine clothes and the broken-down buggy. When her trunk came by +express to-morrow she would look out something more sober. She +must remember that she was in a Catholic and religious household +now. Ah, yes! how very fine it was to see that priest at dinner in +his soutane, sitting down like one of the family, and making them +all seem like a picture of some historical and aristocratic +romance! And then they were actually "de Fontanges l'Hommadieu." +How different he was from that shabby Methodist minister who used +to come to see her father in a black cravat with a hideous bow! +Really there was something to say for a religion that contained so +much picturesque refinement; and for her part--but that will do. I +beg to say that I am not writing of any particular snob or feminine +monstrosity, but of a very charming creature, who was quite able to +say her prayers afterwards like a good girl, and lay her pretty +cheek upon her pillow without a blush. + +She opened her window and looked out. The moon, a great silver +dome, was uplifting itself from a bluish-gray level, which she knew +was the distant plain of wheat. Somewhere in its midst appeared a +dull star, at times brightening as if blown upon or drawn upwards +in a comet-like trail. By some odd instinct she felt that it was +the solitary forge of the young inventor, and pictured him standing +before it with his abstracted hazel eyes and a face more begrimed +in the moonlight than ever. When DID he wash himself? Perhaps not +until Sunday. How lonely it must be out there! She slightly +shivered and turned from the window. As she did so, it seemed to +her that something knocked against her door from without. Opening +it quickly, she was almost certain that the sound of a rustling +skirt retreated along the passage. It was very late; perhaps she +had disturbed the house by shutting her window. No doubt it was +the motherly interest of Mrs. Randolph that impelled her to come +softly and look after her; and for once her simple surmises were +correct. For not only the inspecting eyes of her hostess, but the +amatory glances of the youthful Emile, had been fastened upon her +window until the light disappeared, and even the Holy Mission +Church of San Jose had assured itself of the dear child's safety +with a large and supple ear at her keyhole. + +The next morning Major Randolph took her with Adele in a light +cariole over the ranch. Although his domain was nearly as large as +the adjoining wheat plain, it was not, like that, monopolized by +one enormous characteristic yield, but embraced a more diversified +product. There were acres and acres of potatoes in rows of endless +and varying succession; there were miles of wild oats and barley, +which overtopped them as they drove in narrow lanes of dry and +dusty monotony; there were orchards of pears, apricots, peaches, +and nectarines, and vineyards of grapes, so comparatively dwarfed +in height that they scarcely reached to the level of their eyes, +yet laden and breaking beneath the weight of their ludicrously +disproportionate fruit. What seemed to be a vast green plateau +covered with tiny patches, that headed the northern edge of the +prospect, was an enormous bed of strawberry plants. But everywhere, +crossing the track, bounding the fields, orchards, and vineyards, +intersecting the paths of the whole domain, were narrow irrigating +ducts and channels of running water. + +"Those," said the major, poetically, "are the veins and arteries of +the ranch. Come with me now, and I'll show you its pulsating +heart." Descending from the wagon into pedestrian prose again, he +led Rose a hundred yards further to a shed that covered a wonderful +artesian well. In the centre of a basin a column of water rose +regularly with the even flow and volume of a brook. "It is one of +the largest in the State," said the major, "and is the life of all +that grows here during six months of the year." + +Pleased as the young girl was with those evidences of the prosperity +and position of her host, she was struck, however, with the fact +that the farm-laborers, wine-growers, nurserymen, and all field +hands scattered on the vast estate were apparently of the same +independent, unpastoral, and unprofessional character as the men of +the wheat-field. There were no cottages or farm buildings that she +could see, nor any apparent connection between the household and the +estate; far from suggesting tenantry or retainers, the men who were +working in the fields glanced at them as they passed with the +indifference of strangers, or replied to the major's greetings or +questionings with perfect equality of manner, or even businesslike +reserve and caution. Her host explained that the ranch was worked +by a company "on shares;" that those laborers were, in fact, the +bulk of the company; and that he, the major, only furnished the +land, the seed, and the implements. "That man who was driving the +long roller, and with whom you were indignant because he wouldn't +get out of our way, is the president of the company." + +"That needn't make him so uncivil," said Rose, poutingly, "for if +it comes to that you're the LANDLORD," she added triumphantly. + +"No," said the major, good-humoredly. "I am simply the man driving +the lighter and more easily-managed team for pleasure, and he's the +man driving the heavier and more difficult machine for work. It's +for me to get out of his way; and looked at in the light of my +being THE LANDLORD it is still worse, for as we're working 'on +shares' I'm interrupting HIS work, and reducing HIS profits merely +because I choose to sacrifice my own." + +I need not say that those atrociously leveling sentiments were +received by the young ladies with that feminine scorn which is only +qualified by misconception. Rose, who, under the influence of her +hostess, had a vague impression that they sounded something like +the French Revolution, and that Adele must feel like the Princess +Elizabeth, rushed to her relief like a good girl. "But, major, +now, YOU'RE a gentleman, and if YOU had been driving that roller, +you know you would have turned out for us." + +"I don't know about that," said the major, mischievously; "but if +I had, I should have known that the other fellow who accepted it +wasn't a gentleman." + +But Rose, having sufficiently shown her partisanship in the +discussion, after the feminine fashion, did not care particularly +for the logical result. After a moment's silence she resumed: +"And the wheat ranch below--is that carried on in the same way?" + +"Yes. But their landlord is a bank, who advances not only the +land, but the money to work it, and doesn't ride around in a buggy +with a couple of charmingly distracting young ladies." + +"And do they all share alike?" continued Rose, ignoring the +pleasantry, "big and little--that young inventor with the rest?" + +She stopped. She felt the ingenue's usually complacent eyes +suddenly fixed upon her with an unhallowed precocity, and as +quickly withdrawn. Without knowing why, she felt embarrassed, and +changed the subject. + +The next day they drove to the Convent of Santa Clara and the +Mission College of San Jose. Their welcome at both places seemed +to Rose to be a mingling of caste greeting and spiritual zeal, and +the austere seclusion and reserve of those cloisters repeated that +suggestion of an Old World civilization that had already fascinated +the young Western girl. They made other excursions in the +vicinity, but did not extend it to a visit to their few neighbors. +With their reserved and exclusive ideas this fact did not strike +Rose as peculiar, but on a later shopping expedition to the town of +San Jose, a certain reticence and aggressive sensitiveness on the +part of the shopkeepers and tradespeople towards the Randolphs +produced an unpleasant impression on her mind. She could not help +noticing, too, that after the first stare of astonishment which +greeted her appearance with her hostess, she herself was included in +the antagonism. With her youthful prepossession for her friends, +this distinction she regarded as flattering and aristocratic, and I +fear she accented it still more by discussing with Mrs. Randolph the +merits of the shopkeepers' wares in schoolgirl French before them. +She was unfortunate enough, however, to do this in the shop of a +polyglot German. + +"Oxcoos me, mees," he said gravely,--"but dot lady speeks Engeleesh +so goot mit yourselluf, and ven you dells to her dot silk is hallf +gotton in English, she onderstand you mooch better, and it don't +make nodings to me." The laugh which would have followed from her +own countrywomen did not, however, break upon the trained faces of +the "de Fontanges l'Hommadieus," yet while Rose would have joined +in it, albeit a little ruefully, she felt for the first time +mortified at their civil insincerity. + +At the end of two weeks, Major Randolph received a letter from Mr. +Mallory. When he had read it, he turned to his wife: "He thanks +you," he said, "for your kindness to his daughter, and explains +that his sudden departure was owing to the necessity of his taking +advantage of a great opportunity for speculation that had offered." +As Mrs. Randolph turned away with a slight shrug of the shoulders, +the major continued: "But you haven't heard all! That opportunity +was the securing of a half interest in a cinnabar lode in Sonora, +which has already gone up a hundred thousand dollars in his hands! +By Jove! a man can afford to drop a little social ceremony on those +terms--eh, Josephine?" he concluded with a triumphant chuckle. + +"He's as likely to lose his hundred thousand to-morrow, while his +manners will remain," said Mrs. Randolph. "I've no faith in these +sudden California fortunes!" + +"You're wrong as regards Mallory, for he's as careful as he is +lucky. He don't throw money away for appearance sake, or he'd have +a rich home for that daughter. He could afford it." + +Mrs. Randolph was silent. "She is his only daughter, I believe," +she continued presently. + +"Yes--he has no other kith or kin," returned the major. + +"She seems to be very much impressed by Emile," said Mrs. Randolph. + +Major Randolph faced his wife quickly. + +"In the name of all that's ridiculous, my dear, you are not already +thinking of"--he gasped. + +"I should be very loth to give MY sanction to anything of the kind, +knowing the difference of her birth, education, and religion,-- +although the latter I believe she would readily change," said Mrs. +Randolph, severely. "But when you speak of MY already thinking of +'such things,' do you suppose that your friend, Mr. Mallory, didn't +consider all that when he sent that girl here?" + +"Never," said the major, vehemently, "and if it entered his head +now, by Jove, he'd take her away to-morrow--always supposing I +didn't anticipate him by sending her off myself." + +Mrs. Randolph uttered her mirthless laugh. "And you suppose the +girl would go? Really, major, you don't seem to understand this +boasted liberty of your own countrywoman. What does she care for +her father's control? Why, she'd make him do just what SHE wanted. +But," she added with an expression of dignity, "perhaps we had +better not discuss this until we know something of Emile's feelings +in the matter. That is the only question that concerns us." With +this she swept out of the room, leaving the major at first +speechless with honest indignation, and then after the fashion of +all guileless natures, a little uneasy and suspicious of his own +guilelessness. For a day or two after, he found himself, not +without a sensation of meanness, watching Rose when in Emile's +presence, but he could distinguish nothing more than the frank +satisfaction she showed equally to the others. Yet he found +himself regretting even that, so subtle was the contagion of his +wife's suspicions. + + +CHAPTER III + + +It had been a warm morning; an unusual mist, which the sun had not +dissipated, had crept on from the great grain-fields beyond, and +hung around the house charged with a dry, dusty closeness that +seemed to be quite independent of the sun's rays, and more like a +heated exhalation or emanation of the soil itself. In its acrid +irritation Rose thought she could detect the breath of the wheat as +on the day she had plunged into its pale, green shadows. By the +afternoon this mist had disappeared, apparently in the same +mysterious manner, but not scattered by the usual trade-wind, +which--another unusual circumstance--that day was not forthcoming. +There was a breathlessness in the air like the hush of listening +expectancy, which filled the young girl with a vague restlessness, +and seemed to even affect a scattered company of crows in the field +beyond the house, which rose suddenly with startled but aimless +wings, and then dropped vacantly among the grain again. + +Major Randolph was inspecting a distant part of the ranch, Mrs. +Randolph was presumably engaged in her boudoir, and Rose was +sitting between Adele and Emile before the piano in the drawing- +room, listlessly turning over the leaves of some music. There had +been an odd mingling of eagerness and abstraction in the usual +attentions of the young man that morning, and a certain nervous +affectation in his manner of twisting the ends of a small black +moustache, which resembled his mother's eyebrows, that had affected +Rose with a half-amused, half-uneasy consciousness, but which she +had, however, referred to the restlessness produced by the weather. +It occurred to her also that the vacuously amiable Adele had once +or twice regarded her with the same precocious, childlike curiosity +and infantine cunning she had once before exhibited. All this did +not, however, abate her admiration for both--perhaps particularly +for this picturesquely gentlemanly young fellow, with his gentle +audacities of compliment, his caressing attentions, and his +unfailing and equal address. And when, discovering that she had +mislaid her fan for the fifth time that morning, he started up with +equal and undiminished fire to go again and fetch it, the look of +grateful pleasure and pleading perplexity in her pretty eyes might +have turned a less conceited brain than his. + +"But you don't know where it is!" + +"I shall find it by instinct." + +"You are spoiling me--you two." The parenthesis was a hesitating +addition, but she continued, with fresh sincerity, "I shall be +quite helpless when I leave here--if I am ever able to go by +myself." + +"Don't ever go, then." + +"But just now I want my fan; it is so close everywhere to-day." + +"I fly, mademoiselle." + +He started to the door. + +She called after him:-- + +"Let me help your instinct, then; I had it last in the major's +study." + +"That was where I was going." + +He disappeared. Rose got up and moved uneasily towards the window. +"How queer and quiet it looks outside. It's really too bad that he +should be sent after that fan again. He'll never find it." She +resumed her place at the piano, Adele following her with round, +expectant eyes. After a pause she started up again. "I'll go and +fetch it myself," she said, with a half-embarrassed laugh, and ran +to the door. + +Scarcely understanding her own nervousness, but finding relief in +rapid movement, Rose flew lightly up the staircase. The major's +study, where she had been writing letters, during his absence, that +morning, was at the further end of a long passage, and near her own +bedroom, the door of which, as she passed, she noticed, half- +abstractedly, was open, but she continued on and hurriedly entered +the study. At the same moment Emile, with a smile on his face, +turned towards her with the fan in his hand. + +"Oh, you've found it," she said, with nervous eagerness. "I was so +afraid you'd have all your trouble for nothing." + +She extended her hand, with a half-breathless smile, for the fan, +but he caught her outstretched little palm in his own, and held it. + +"Ah! but you are not going to leave us, are you?" + +In a flash of consciousness she understood him, and, as it seemed +to her, her own nervousness, and all, and everything. And with it +came a swift appreciation of all it meant to her and her future. +To be always with him and like him, a part of this refined and +restful seclusion--akin to all that had so attracted her in this +house; not to be obliged to educate herself up to it, but to be in +it on equal terms at once; to know that it was no wild, foolish +youthful fancy, but a wise, thoughtful, and prudent resolve, that +her father would understand and her friends respect: these were the +thoughts that crowded quickly upon her, more like an explanation of +her feelings than a revelation, in the brief second that he held +her hand. It was not, perhaps, love as she had dreamed it, and +even BELIEVED it, before. She was not ashamed or embarrassed; she +even felt, with a slight pride, that she was not blushing. She +raised her eyes frankly. What she WOULD have said she did not +know, for the door, which he had closed behind her, began to shake +violently. + +It was not the fear of some angry intrusion or interference surely +that made him drop her hand instantly. It was not--her second +thought--the idea that some one had fallen in a fit against it that +blanched his face with abject and unreasoning terror! It must have +been something else that caused him to utter an inarticulate cry +and dash out of the room and down the stairs like a madman! What +had happened? + +In her own self-possession she knew that all this was passing +rapidly, that it was not the door now that was still shaking, for +it had swung almost shut again--but it was the windows, the book- +shelves, the floor beneath her feet, that were all shaking. She +heard a hurried scrambling, the trampling of feet below, and the +quick rustling of a skirt in the passage, as if some one had +precipitately fled from her room. Yet no one had called to her-- +even HE had said nothing. Whatever had happened they clearly had +not cared for her to know. + +The jarring and rattling ceased as suddenly, but the house seemed +silent and empty. She moved to the door, which had now swung open +a few inches, but to her astonishment it was fixed in that +position, and she could not pass. As yet she had been free from +any personal fear, and even now it was with a half smile at her +imprisonment in the major's study, that she rang the bell and +turned to the window. A man, whom she recognized as one of the +ranch laborers, was standing a hundred feet away in the garden, +looking curiously at the house. He saw her face as she tried to +raise the sash, uttered an exclamation, and ran forward. But +before she could understand what he said, the sash began to rattle +in her hand, the jarring recommenced, the floor shook beneath her +feet, a hideous sound of grinding seemed to come from the walls, a +thin seam of dust-like smoke broke from the ceiling, and with the +noise of falling plaster a dozen books followed each other from the +shelves, in what in the frantic hurry of that moment seemed a +grimly deliberate succession; a picture hanging against the wall, +to her dazed wonder, swung forward, and appeared to stand at right +angles from it; she felt herself reeling against the furniture; a +deadly nausea overtook her; as she glanced despairingly towards the +window, the outlying fields beyond the garden seemed to be +undulating like a sea. For the first time she raised her voice, +not in fear, but in a pathetic little cry of apology for her +awkwardness in tumbling about and not being able to grapple this +new experience, and then she found herself near the door, which had +once more swung free. She grasped it eagerly, and darted out of +the study into the deserted passage. Here some instinct made her +follow the line of the wall, rather than the shaking balusters of +the corridor and staircase, but before she reached the bottom she +heard a shout, and the farm laborer she had seen coming towards her +seized her by the arm, dragged her to the open doorway of the +drawing-room, and halted beneath its arch in the wall. Another +thrill, but lighter than before, passed through the building, then +all was still again. + +"It's over; I reckon that's all just now," said the man, coolly. +"It's quite safe to cut and run for the garden now, through this +window." He half led, half lifted her through the French window to +the veranda and the ground, and locking her arm in his, ran quickly +forward a hundred feet from the house, stopping at last beneath a +large post oak where there was a rustic seat into which she sank. +"You're safe now, I reckon," he said grimly. + +She looked towards the house; the sun was shining brightly; a cool +breeze seemed to have sprung up as they ran. She could see a +quantity of rubbish lying on the roof from which a dozen yards of +zinc gutter were perilously hanging; the broken shafts of the +further cluster of chimneys, a pile of bricks scattered upon the +ground and among the battered down beams of the end of the veranda-- +but that was all. She lifted her now whitened face to the man, +and with the apologetic smile still lingering on her lips, asked:-- + +"What does it all mean? What has happened?" + +The man stared at her. "D'ye mean to say ye don't know?" + +"How could I? They must have all left the house as soon as it +began. I was talking to--to M. l'Hommadieu, and he suddenly left." + +The man brought his face angrily down within an inch of her own. +"D'ye mean to say that them d----d French half-breeds stampeded and +left yer there alone?" + +She was still too much stupefied by the reaction to fully +comprehend his meaning, and repeated feebly with her smile still +faintly lingering: "But you don't tell me WHAT it was?" + +"An earthquake," said the man, roughly, "and if it had lasted ten +seconds longer it would have shook the whole shanty down and left +you under it. Yer kin tell that to them, if they don't know it, +but from the way they made tracks to the fields, I reckon they did. +They're coming now." + +Without another word he turned away half surlily, half defiantly, +passing scarce fifty yards away Mrs. Randolph and her daughter, who +were hastening towards their guest. + +"Oh, here you are!" said Mrs. Randolph, with the nearest approach +to effusion that Rose had yet seen in her manner. "We were +wondering where you had run to, and were getting quite concerned. +Emile was looking for you everywhere." + +The recollection of his blank and abject face, his vague outcry and +blind fright, came back to Rose with a shock that sent a flash of +sympathetic shame to her face. The ingenious Adele noticed it, and +dutifully pinched her mother's arm. + +"Emile?" echoed Rose faintly--"looking for ME?" + +Mother and daughter exchanged glances. + +"Yes," said Mrs. Randolph, cheerfully, "he says he started to run +with you, but you got ahead and slipped out of the garden door--or +something of the kind," she added, with the air of making light of +Rose's girlish fears. "You know one scarcely knows what one does +at such times, and it must have been frightfully strange to YOU-- +and he's been quite distracted, lest you should have wandered away. +Adele, run and tell him Miss Mallory has been here under the oak +all the time." + +Rose started--and then fell hopelessly back in her seat. Perhaps +it WAS true! Perhaps he had not rushed off with that awful face +and without a word. Perhaps she herself had been half-frightened +out of her reason. In the simple, weak kindness of her nature it +seemed less dreadful to believe that the fault was partly her own. + +"And you went back into the house to look for us when all was +over," said Mrs. Randolph, fixing her black, beady, magnetic eyes +on Rose, "and that stupid yokel Zake brought you out again. He +needn't have clutched your arm so closely, my dear,--I must speak +to the major about his excessive familiarity--but I suppose I shall +be told that that is American freedom. I call it 'a liberty.'" + +It struck Rose that she had not even thanked the man--in the same +flash that she remembered something dreadful that he had said. She +covered her face with her hands and tried to recall herself. + +Mrs. Randolph gently tapped her shoulder with a mixture of maternal +philosophy and discipline, and continued: "Of course, it's an +upset--and you're confused still. That's nothing. They say, dear, +it's perfectly well known that no two people's recollections of +these things ever are the same. It's really ridiculous the +contradictory stories one hears. Isn't it, Emile?" + +Rose felt that the young man had joined them and was looking at +her. In the fear that she should still see some trace of the +startled, selfish animal in his face, she did not dare to raise her +eyes to his, but looked at his mother. Mrs. Randolph was standing +then, collected but impatient. + +"It's all over now," said Emile, in his usual voice, "and except +the chimneys and some fallen plaster there's really no damage done. +But I'm afraid they have caught it pretty badly at the mission, and +at San Francisco in those tall, flashy, rattle-trap buildings +they're putting up. I've just sent off one of the men for news." + +Her father was in San Francisco by that time; and she had never +thought of him! In her quick remorse she now forgot all else and +rose to her feet. + +"I must telegraph to my father at once," she said hurriedly; "he is +there." + +"You had better wait until the messenger returns and hear his +news," said Emile. "If the shock was only a slight one in San +Francisco, your father might not understand you, and would be +alarmed." + +She could see his face now--there was no record of the past +expression upon it, but he was watching her eagerly. Mrs. Randolph +and Adele had moved away to speak to the servants. Emile drew +nearer. + +"You surely will not desert us now?" he said in a low voice. + +"Please don't," she said vaguely. "I'm so worried," and, pushing +quickly past him, she hurriedly rejoined the two women. + +They were superintending the erection of a long tent or marquee in +the garden, hastily extemporized from the awnings of the veranda +and other cloth. Mrs. Randolph explained that, although all danger +was over, there was the possibility of the recurrence of lighter +shocks during the day and night, and that they would all feel much +more secure and comfortable to camp out for the next twenty-four +hours in the open air. + +"Only imagine you're picnicking, and you'll enjoy it as most people +usually enjoy those horrid al fresco entertainments. I don't +believe there's the slightest real necessity for it, but," she +added in a lower voice, "the Irish and Chinese servants are so +demoralized now, they wouldn't stay indoors with us. It's a common +practice here, I believe, for a day or two after the shock, and it +gives time to put things right again and clear up. The old, one- +storied, Spanish houses with walls three feet thick, and built +round a courtyard or patio, were much safer. It's only when the +Americans try to improve upon the old order of things with their +pinchbeck shams and stucco that Providence interferes like this to +punish them." + +It was the fact, however, that Rose was more impressed by what +seemed to her the absolute indifference of Providence in the +matter, and the cool resumption by Nature of her ordinary +conditions. The sky above their heads was as rigidly blue as ever, +and as smilingly monotonous; the distant prospect, with its clear, +well-known silhouettes, had not changed; the crows swung on lazy, +deliberate wings over the grain as before; and the trade-wind was +again blowing in its quiet persistency. And yet she knew that +something had happened that would never again make her enjoyment of +the prospect the same--that nothing would ever be as it was +yesterday. I think at first she referred only to the material and +larger phenomena, and did not confound this revelation of the +insecurity of the universe with her experience of man. Yet the +fact also remained that to the conservative, correct, and, as she +believed, secure condition to which she had been approximating, all +her relations were rudely shaken and upset. It really seemed to +this simple-minded young woman that the revolutionary disturbance +of settled conditions might have as Providential an origin as the +"Divine Right" of which she had heard so much. + + +CHAPTER IV + + +In her desire to be alone and to evade the now significant +attentions of Emile, she took advantage of the bustle that followed +the hurried transfer of furniture and articles from the house to +escape through the garden to the outlying fields. Striking into +one of the dusty lanes that she remembered, she wandered on for +half an hour until her progress and meditation were suddenly +arrested. She had come upon a long chasm or crack in the soil, +full twenty feet wide and as many in depth, crossing her path at +right angles. She did not remember having seen it before; the +track of wheels went up to its precipitous edge; she could see the +track on the other side, but the hiatus remained, unbridged and +uncovered. It was not there yesterday. She glanced right and +left; the fissure seemed to extend, like a moat or ditch, from the +distant road to the upland between her and the great wheat valley +below, from which she was shut off. An odd sense of being in some +way a prisoner confronted her. She drew back with an impatient +start, and perhaps her first real sense of indignation. A voice +behind her, which she at once recognized, scarcely restored her +calmness. + +"You can't get across there, miss." + +She turned. It was the young inventor from the wheat ranch, on +horseback and with a clean face. He had just ridden out of the +grain on the same side of the chasm as herself. + +"But you seem to have got over," she said bluntly. + +"Yes, but it was further up the field. I reckoned that the split +might be deeper but not so broad in the rock outcrop over there +than in the adobe here. I found it so and jumped it." + +He looked as if he might--alert, intelligent, and self-contained. +He lingered a moment, and then continued:-- + +"I'm afraid you must have been badly shaken and a little frightened +up there before the chimneys came down?" + +"No," she was glad to say briefly, and she believed truthfully, I +wasn't frightened. I didn't even know it was an earthquake." + +"Ah!" he reflected, "that was because you were a stranger. It's +odd--they're all like that. I suppose it's because nobody really +expects or believes in the unlooked-for thing, and yet that's the +thing that always happens. And then, of course, that other affair, +which really is serious, startled you the more." + +She felt herself ridiculously and angrily blushing. "I don't know +what you mean," she said icily. "What other affair?" + +"Why, the well." + +"The well?" she repeated vacantly. + +"Yes; the artesian well has stopped. Didn't the major tell you?" + +"No," said the girl. "He was away; I haven't seen him yet." + +"Well, the flow of water has ceased completely. That's what I'm +here for. The major sent for me, and I've been to examine it." + +"And is that stoppage so very important?" she said dubiously. + +It was his turn to look at her wonderingly. + +"If it's LOST entirely, it means ruin for the ranch," he said +sharply. He wheeled his horse, nodded gravely, and trotted off. + +Major Randolph's figure of the "life-blood of the ranch" flashed +across her suddenly. She knew nothing of irrigation or the costly +appliances by which the Californian agriculturist opposed the long +summer droughts. She only vaguely guessed that the dreadful +earthquake had struck at the prosperity of those people whom only +a few hours ago she had been proud to call her friends. The +underlying goodness of her nature was touched. Should she let +a momentary fault--if it were not really, after all, only a +misunderstanding--rise between her and them at such a moment? +She turned and hurried quickly towards the house. + +Hastening onward, she found time, however, to wonder also why these +common men--she now included even the young inventor in that +category--were all so rude and uncivil to HER! She had never +before been treated in this way; she had always been rather +embarrassed by the admiring attentions of young men (clerks and +collegians) in her Atlantic home, and, of professional men +(merchants and stockbrokers) in San Francisco. It was true that +they were not as continually devoted to her and to the nice art and +etiquette of pleasing as Emile,--they had other things to think +about, being in business and not being GENTLEMEN,--but then they +were greatly superior to these clowns, who took no notice of her, +and rode off without lingering or formal leave-taking when their +selfish affairs were concluded. It must be the contact of the +vulgar earth--this wretched, cracking, material, and yet +ungovernable and lawless earth--that so depraved them. She felt +she would like to say this to some one--not her father, for he +wouldn't listen to her, nor to the major, who would laughingly +argue with her, but to Mrs. Randolph, who would understand her, and +perhaps say it some day in her own sharp, sneering way to these +very clowns. With those gentle sentiments irradiating her blue +eyes, and putting a pink flush upon her fair cheeks, Rose reached +the garden with the intention of rushing sympathetically into Mrs. +Randolph's arms. But it suddenly occurred to her that she would be +obliged to state how she became aware of this misfortune, and with +it came an instinctive aversion to speak of her meeting with the +inventor. She would wait until Mrs. Randolph told her. But +although that lady was engaged in a low-voiced discussion in French +with Emile and Adele, which instantly ceased at her approach, there +was no allusion made to the new calamity. "You need not telegraph +to your father," she said as Rose approached, "he has already +telegraphed to you for news; as you were out, and the messenger was +waiting an answer, we opened the dispatch, and sent one, telling +him that you were all right, and that he need not hurry here on +your account. So you are satisfied, I hope." A few hours ago this +would have been true, and Rose would have probably seen in the +action of her hostess only a flattering motherly supervision; there +was, in fact, still a lingering trace of trust in her mind yet she +was conscious that she would have preferred to answer the dispatch +herself, and to have let her father come. To a girl brought up +with a belief in the right of individual independence of thought +and action, there was something in Mrs. Randolph's practical +ignoring of that right which startled her in spite of her new +conservatism, while, as the daughter of a business man, her +instincts revolted against Mrs. Randolph's unbusiness-like action +with the telegram, however vulgar and unrefined she may have begun +to consider a life of business. The result was a certain +constraint and embarrassment in her manner, which, however, had the +laudable effect of limiting Emile's attention to significant +glances, and was no doubt variously interpreted by the others. But +she satisfied her conscience by determining to make a confidence of +her sympathy to the major on the first opportunity. + +This she presently found when the others were preoccupied; the +major greeting her with a somewhat careworn face, but a voice whose +habitual kindness was unchanged. When he had condoled with her on +the terrifying phenomenon that had marred her visit to the ranch,-- +and she could not help impatiently noticing that he too seemed to +have accepted his wife's theory that she had been half deliriously +frightened,--he regretted that her father had not concluded to come +down to the ranch, as his practical advice would have been +invaluable in this emergency. She was about to eagerly explain +why, when it occurred to her that Mrs. Randolph had only given him +a suppressed version of the telegram, and that she would be +betraying her, or again taking sides in this partisan divided home. +With some hesitation she at last alluded to the accident to the +artesian well. The major did not ask her how she had heard of it; +it was a bad business, he thought, but it might not be a total +loss. The water may have been only diverted by the shock and might +be found again at the lower level, or in some lateral fissure. He +had sent hurriedly for Tom Bent--that clever young engineer at the +wheat ranch, who was always studying up these things with his +inventions--and that was his opinion. No, Tom was not a well- +digger, but it was generally known that he had "located" one or +two, and had long ago advised the tapping of that flow by a second +boring, in case of just such an emergency. He was coming again to- +morrow. By the way, he had asked how the young lady visitor was, +and hoped she had not been alarmed by the earthquake! + +Rose felt herself again blushing, and, what was more singular, with +an unexpected and it seemed to her ridiculous pleasure, although +outwardly she appeared to ignore the civility completely. And she +had no intention of being so easily placated. If this young man +thought by mere perfunctory civilities to her HOST to make up for +his clownishness to HER, he was mistaken. She would let him see it +when he called to-morrow. She quickly turned the subject by +assuring the major of her sympathy and her intention of sending for +her father. For the rest of the afternoon and during their al +fresco dinner she solved the difficulty of her strained relations +with Mrs. Randolph and Emile by conversing chiefly with the major, +tacitly avoiding, however, any allusion to this Mr. Bent. But Mrs. +Randolph was less careful. + +"You don't really mean to say, major," she began in her dryest, +grittiest manner, "that instead of sending to San Francisco for +some skilled master-mechanic, you are going to listen to the +vagaries of a conceited, half-educated farm-laborer, and employ +him? You might as well call in some of those wizards or water- +witches at once." But the major, like many other well-managed +husbands who are good-humoredly content to suffer in the sunshine +of prosperity, had no idea of doing so in adversity, and the +prospect of being obliged to go back to youthful struggles had +recalled some of the independence of that period. He looked up +quietly, and said:-- + +"If his conclusions are as clear and satisfactory to-morrow as they +were to-day, I shall certainly try to secure his services." + +"Then I can only say I would prefer the water-witch. He at least +would not represent a class of neighbors who have made themselves +systematically uncivil and disagreeable to us." + +"I am afraid, Josephine, we have not tried to make ourselves +particularly agreeable to THEM," said the major. + +"If that can only be done by admitting their equality, I prefer +they should remain uncivil. Only let it be understood, major, that +if you choose to take this Tom-the-ploughboy to mend your well, you +will at least keep him there while he is on the property." + +With what retort the major would have kept up this conjugal +discussion, already beginning to be awkward to the discreet +visitor, is not known, as it was suddenly stopped by a bullet from +the rosebud lips of the ingenuous Adele. + +"Why, he's very handsome when his face is clean, and his hands are +small and not at all hard. And he doesn't talk the least bit queer +or common." + +There was a dead silence. "And pray where did YOU see him, and +what do you know about his hands?" asked Mrs. Randolph, in her most +desiccated voice. "Or has the major already presented you to him? +I shouldn't be surprised." + +"No, but"--hesitated the young girl, with a certain mouse-like +audacity,--"when you sent me to look after Miss Mallory, I came up +to him just after he had spoken to her, and he stopped to ask me +how we all were, and if Miss Mallory was really frightened by the +earthquake, and he shook hands for good afternoon--that's all." + +"And who taught you to converse with common strangers and shake +hands with them?" continued Mrs. Randolph, with narrowing lips. + +"Nobody, mamma; but I thought if Miss Mallory, who is a young lady, +could speak to him, so could I, who am not out yet." + +"We won't discuss this any further at present," said Mrs. Randolph, +stiffly, as the major smiled grimly at Rose. "The earthquake seems +to have shaken down in this house more than the chimneys." + +It certainly had shaken all power of sleep from the eyes of Rose +when the household at last dispersed to lie down in their clothes +on the mattresses which had been arranged under the awnings. She +was continually starting up from confused dreams of the ground +shaking under her, or she seemed to be standing on the brink of +some dreadful abyss like the great chasm on the grain-field, when +it began to tremble and crumble beneath her feet. It was near +morning when, unable to endure it any longer, she managed without +disturbing the sleeping Adele, who occupied the same curtained +recess with her, to slip out from the awning. Wrapped in a thick +shawl, she made her way through the encompassing trees and bushes +of the garden that had seemed to imprison and suffocate her, to the +edge of the grain-field, where she could breathe the fresh air +beneath an open, starlit sky. There was no moon and the darkness +favored her; she had no fears that weighed against the horror of +seclusion with her own fancies. Besides, they were camping OUT of +the house, and if she chose to sit up or walk about, no one could +think it strange. She wished her father were here that she might +have some one of her own kin to talk to, yet she knew not what to +say to him if he had come. She wanted somebody to sympathize with +her feelings,--or rather, perhaps, some one to combat and even +ridicule the uneasiness that had lately come over her. She knew +what her father would say,--"Do you want to go, or do you want to +stay here? Do you like these people, or do you not?" She +remembered the one or two glowing and enthusiastic accounts she had +written him of her visit here, and felt herself blushing again. +What would he think of Mrs. Randolph's opening and answering the +telegram? Wouldn't he find out from the major if she had garbled +the sense of his dispatch? + +Away to the right, in the midst of the distant and invisible wheat- +field, there was the same intermittent star, which like a living, +breathing thing seemed to dilate in glowing respiration, as she had +seen it the first night of her visit. Mr. Bent's forge! It must +be nearly daylight now; the poor fellow had been up all night, or +else was stealing this early march on the day. She recalled +Adele's sudden eulogium of him. The first natural smile that had +come to her lips since the earthquake broke up her nervous +restraint, and sent her back more like her old self to her couch. + +But she had not proceeded far towards the tent, when she heard the +sound of low voices approaching her. It was the major and his +wife, who, like herself, had evidently been unable to sleep, and +were up betimes. A new instinct of secretiveness, which she felt +was partly the effect of her artificial surrounding, checked her +first natural instinct to call to them, and she drew back deeper in +the shadow to let them pass. But to her great discomfiture the +major in a conversational emphasis stopped directly in front of +her. + +"You are wrong, I tell you, a thousand times wrong. The girl is +simply upset by this earthquake. It's a great pity her father +didn't come instead of telegraphing. And by Jove, rather than hear +any more of this, I'll send for him myself," said the major, in an +energetic but suppressed voice. + +"And the girl won't thank you, and you'll be a fool for your +pains," returned Mrs. Randolph, with dry persistency. + +"But according to your own ideas of propriety, Mallory ought to be +the first one to be consulted--and by me, too." + +"Not in this case. Of course, before any actual engagement is on, +you can speak of Emile's attentions." + +"But suppose Mallory has other views. Suppose he declines the +honor. The man is no fool." + +"Thank you. But for that very reason he must. Listen to me, +major; if he doesn't care to please his daughter for her own sake, +he will have to do so for the sake of decency. Yes, I tell you, +she has thoroughly compromised herself--quite enough, if it is ever +known, to spoil any other engagement her father may make. Why, ask +Adele! The day of the earthquake she ABSOLUTELY had the audacity +to send him out of the room upstairs into your study for her fan, +and then follow him up there alone. The servants knew it. I knew +it, for I was in her room at the time with Father Antonio. The +earthquake made it plain to everybody. Decline it! No. Mr. +Mallory will think twice about it before he does that. What's +that? Who's there?" + +There was a sudden rustle in the bushes like the passage of some +frightened animal--and then all was still again. + + +CHAPTER V + + +The sun, an hour high, but only just topping the greenish crests of +the wheat, was streaming like the morning breeze through the open +length of Tom Bent's workshed. An exaggerated and prolonged shadow +of the young inventor himself at work beside his bench was +stretching itself far into the broken-down ranks of stalks towards +the invisible road, and falling at the very feet of Rose Mallory as +she emerged from them. + +She was very pale, very quiet, and very determined. The traveling +mantle thrown over her shoulders was dusty, the ribbons that tied +her hat under her round chin had become unloosed. She advanced, +walking down the line of shadow directly towards him. + +"I am afraid I will have to trouble you once more," she said with +a faint smile, which did not, however, reach her perplexed eyes. +"Could you give me any kind of a conveyance that would take me to +San Jose at once?" + +The young man had started at the rustling of her dress in the +shavings, and turned eagerly. The faintest indication of a loss of +interest was visible for an instant in his face, but it quickly +passed into a smile of recognition. Yet she felt that he had +neither noticed any change in her appearance, nor experienced any +wonder at seeing her there at that hour. + +"I did not take a buggy from the house," she went on quickly, "for +I left early, and did not want to disturb them. In fact, they +don't know that I am gone. I was worried at not hearing news from +my father in San Francisco since the earthquake, and I thought I +would run down to San Jose to inquire without putting them to any +trouble. Anything will do that you have ready, if I can take it at +once." + +Still without exhibiting the least surprise, Bent nodded +affirmatively, put down his tools, begged her to wait a moment, and +ran off in the direction of the cabin. As he disappeared behind +the wheat, she lapsed quite suddenly against the work bench, but +recovered herself a moment later, leaning with her back against it, +her hands grasping it on either side, and her knit brows and +determined little face turned towards the road. Then she stood +erect again, shook the dust out of her skirts, lifted her veil, +wiped her cheeks and brow with the corner of a small handkerchief, +and began walking up and down the length of the shed as Bent +reappeared. + +He was accompanied by the man who had first led her through the +wheat. He gazed upon her with apparently all the curiosity and +concern that the other had lacked. + +"You want to get to San Jose as quick as you can?" he said +interrogatively. + +"Yes," she said quickly, "if you can help me." + +"You walked all the way from the major's here?" he continued, +without taking his eyes from her face. + +"Yes," she answered with an affectation of carelessness she had not +shown to Bent. "But I started very early, it was cool and +pleasant, and didn't seem far." + +"I'll put you down in San Jose inside the hour. You shall have my +horse and trotting sulky, and I'll drive you myself. Will that +do?" + +She looked at him wonderingly. She had not forgotten his previous +restraint and gravity, but now his face seemed to have relaxed with +some humorous satisfaction. She felt herself coloring slightly, +but whether with shame or relief she could not tell. + +"I shall be so much obliged to you," she replied hesitatingly, "and +so will my father, I know." + +"I reckon," said the man with the same look of amused conjecture; +then, with a quick, assuring nod, he turned away, and dived into +the wheat again. + +"You're all right now, Miss Mallory," said Bent, complacently. +"Dawson will fix it. He's got a good horse, and he's a good +driver, too." He paused, and then added pleasantly, "I suppose +they're all well up at the house?" + +It was so evident that his remark carried no personal meaning to +herself that she was obliged to answer carelessly, "Oh, yes." + +"I suppose you see a good deal of Miss Randolph--Miss Adele, I +think you call her?" he remarked tentatively, and with a certain +boyish enthusiasm, which she had never conceived possible to his +nature. + +"Yes," she replied a little dryly, "she is the only young lady +there." She stopped, remembering Adele's naive description of the +man before her, and said abruptly, "You know her, then?" + +"A little," replied the young man, modestly. "I see her pretty +often when I am passing the upper end of the ranch. She's very +well brought up, and her manners are very refined--don't you think +so?--and yet she's just as simple and natural as a country girl. +There's a great deal in education after all, isn't there?" he went +on confidentially, "and although"--he lowered his voice and looked +cautiously around him--"I believe that some of us here don't fancy +her mother much, there's no doubt that Mrs. Randolph knows how to +bring up her children. Some people think that kind of education is +all artificial, and don't believe in it, but I do!" + +With the consciousness that she was running away from these people +and the shameful disclosure she had heard last night--with the +recollection of Adele's scandalous interpretation of her most +innocent actions and her sudden and complete revulsion against all +that she had previously admired in that household, to hear this man +who had seemed to her a living protest against their ideas and +principles, now expressing them and holding them up for emulation, +almost took her breath away. + +"I suppose that means you intend to fix Major Randolph's well for +him?" she said dryly. + +"Yes," he returned without noticing her manner; "and I think I can +find that water again. I've been studying it up all night, and do +you know what I'm going to do? I am going to make the earthquake +that lost it help me to find it again." He paused, and looked at +her with a smile and a return of his former enthusiasm. "Do you +remember the crack in the adobe field that stopped you yesterday?" + +"Yes," said the girl, with a slight shiver. + +"I told you then that the same crack was a split in the rock +outcrop further up the plain, and was deeper. I am satisfied now, +from what I have seen, that it is really a rupture of the whole +strata all the way down. That's the one weak point that the +imprisoned water is sure to find, and that's where the borer will +tap it--in the new well that the earthquake itself has sunk." + +It seemed to her now that she understood his explanation perfectly, +and she wondered the more that he had been so mistaken in his +estimate of Adele. She turned away a little impatiently and looked +anxiously towards the point where Dawson had disappeared. Bent +followed her eyes. + +"He'll be here in a moment, Miss Mallory. He has to drive slowly +through the grain, but I hear the wheels." He stopped, and his +voice took up its previous note of boyish hesitation. "By the way-- +I'll--I'll be going up to the Rancho this afternoon to see the +major. Have you any message for Mrs. Randolph--or for--for Miss +Adele?" + +"No"--said Rose, hesitatingly, "and--and"-- + +"I see," interrupted Bent, carelessly. "You don't want anything +said about your coming here. I won't." + +It struck her that he seemed to have no ulterior meaning in the +suggestion. But before she could make any reply, Dawson +reappeared, driving a handsome mare harnessed to a light, spider- +like vehicle. He had also assumed, evidently in great haste, a +black frock coat buttoned over his waistcoatless and cravatless +shirt, and a tall black hat that already seemed to be cracking in +the sunlight. He drove up, at once assisted her to the narrow +perch beside him, and with a nod to Bent drove off. His breathless +expedition relieved the leave-taking of these young people of any +ceremony. + +"I suppose," said Mr. Dawson, giving a half glance over his +shoulder as they struck into the dusty highway,--"I suppose you +don't care to see anybody before you get to San Jose?" + +"No-o-o," said Rose, timidly. + +"And I reckon you wouldn't mind my racin' a bit if anybody kem up?" + +"No." + +"The mare's sort o' fastidious about takin' anybody's dust." + +"Is she?" said Rose, with a faint smile. + +"Awful," responded her companion; "and the queerest thing of all +is, she can't bear to have any one behind her, either." + +He leaned forward with his expression of humorous enjoyment of some +latent joke and did something with the reins--Rose never could +clearly understand what, though it seemed to her that he simply +lifted them with ostentatious lightness; but the mare suddenly +seemed to LENGTHEN herself and lose her height, and the stalks of +wheat on either side of the dusty track began to melt into each +other, and then slipped like a flash into one long, continuous, +shimmering green hedge. So perfect was the mare's action that the +girl was scarcely conscious of any increased effort; so harmonious +the whole movement that the light skeleton wagon seemed only a +prolonged process of that long, slim body and free, collarless +neck, both straight as the thin shafts on each side and straighter +than the delicate ribbon-like traces which, in what seemed a mere +affectation of conscious power, hung at times almost limp between +the whiffle-tree and the narrow breast band which was all that +confined the animal's powerful fore-quarters. So superb was the +reach of its long easy stride that Rose could scarcely see any +undulations in the brown shining back on which she could have +placed her foot, nor felt the soft beat of the delicate hoofs that +took the dust so firmly and yet so lightly. + +The rapidity of motion which kept them both with heads bent forward +and seemed to force back any utterance that rose to their lips +spared Rose the obligation of conversation, and her companion was +equally reticent. But it was evident to her that he half suspected +she was running away from the Randolphs, and that she wished to +avoid the embarrassment of being overtaken even in persuasive +pursuit. It was not possible that he knew the cause of her flight, +and yet she could not account for his evident desire to befriend +her, nor, above all, for his apparently humorous enjoyment of the +situation. Had he taken it gravely, she might have been tempted to +partly confide in him and ask his advice. Was she doing right, +after all? Ought she not to have stayed long enough to speak her +mind to Mrs. Randolph and demand to be sent home? No! She had not +only shrunk from repeating the infamous slander she had overheard, +but she had a terrible fear that if she had done so, Mrs. Randolph +was capable of denying it, or even charging her of being still +under the influence of the earthquake shock and of walking in her +sleep. No! She could not trust her--she could trust no one there. +Had not even the major listened to those infamous lies? Had she +not seen that he was helpless in the hands of this cabal in his own +household?--a cabal that she herself had thoughtlessly joined +against him. + +They had reached the first slight ascent. Her companion drew out +his watch, looked at it with satisfaction, and changed the position +of his hands on the reins. Without being able to detect the +difference, she felt they were slackening speed. She turned +inquiringly towards him; he nodded his head, with a half smile and +a gesture to her to look ahead. The spires of San Jose were +already faintly uplifting from the distant fringe of oaks. + +So soon! In fifteen minutes she would be there--and THEN! She +remembered suddenly she had not yet determined what to do. Should +she go on at once to San Francisco, or telegraph to her father and +await him at San Jose? In either case a new fear of the +precipitancy of her action and the inadequacy of her reasons had +sprung up in her mind. Would her father understand her? Would he +underrate the cause and be mortified at the insult she had given +the family of his old friend, or, more dreadful still, would he +exaggerate her wrongs and seek a personal quarrel with the major. +He was a man of quick temper, and had the Western ideas of redress. +Perhaps even now she was precipitating a duel between them. Her +cheeks grew wan again, her breath came quickly, tears gathered in +her eyes. Oh, she was a dreadful girl, she knew it; she was an +utterly miserable one, and she knew that too! + +The reins were tightened. The pace lessened and at last fell to a +walk. Conscious of her telltale eyes and troubled face, she dared +not turn to her companion to ask him why, but glanced across the +fields. + +"When you first came I didn't get to know your name, Miss Mallory, +but I reckon I know your father." + +Her father! What made him say that? She wanted to speak, but she +felt she could not. In another moment, if he went on, she must do +SOMETHING--she would cry! + +"I reckon you'll be wanting to go to the hotel first, anyway?" + +There!--she knew it! He WOULD keep on! And now she had burst into +tears. + +The mare was still walking slowly; the man was lazily bending +forward over the shafts as if nothing had occurred. Then suddenly, +illogically, and without a moment's warning, the pride that had +sustained her crumbled and became as the dust of the road. + +She burst out and told him--this stranger!--this man she had +disliked!--all and EVERYTHING. How she had felt, how she had been +deceived, and what she had overheard! + +"I thought as much," said her companion, quietly, "and that's why I +sent for your father." + +"You sent for my father!--when?--where?" echoed Rose, in +astonishment. + +"Yesterday. He was to come to-day, and if we don't find him at the +hotel it will be because he has already started to come here by the +upper and longer road. But you leave it to ME, and don't you say +anything to him of this now. If he's at the hotel, I'll say I +drove you down there to show off the mare. Sabe? If he isn't, +I'll leave you there and come back here to find him. I've got +something to tell him that will set YOU all right." He smiled +grimly, lifted the reins, the mare started forward again, and the +vehicle and its occupants disappeared in a vanishing dust cloud. + + +CHAPTER VI + + +It was nearly noon when Mr. Dawson finished rubbing down his +sweating mare in the little stable shed among the wheat. He had +left Rose at the hotel, for they found Mr. Mallory had previously +started by a circuitous route for the wheat ranch. He had resumed +not only his working clothes but his working expression. He was +now superintending the unloading of a wain of stores and implements +when the light carryall of the Randolphs rolled into the field. It +contained only Mrs. Randolph and the driver. A slight look of +intelligence passed between the latter and the nearest one of +Dawson's companions, succeeded, however, by a dull look of stupid +vacancy on the faces of all the others, including Dawson. Mrs. +Randolph noticed it, and was forewarned. She reflected that no +human beings ever looked NATURALLY as stupid as that and were able +to work. She smiled sarcastically, and then began with dry +distinctness and narrowing lips. + +"Miss Mallory, a young lady visiting us, went out for an early walk +this morning and has not returned. It is possible she may have +lost her way among your wheat. Have you seen anything of her?" + +Dawson raised his eyes from his work and glanced slowly around at +his companions, as if taking the heavy sense of the assembly. One +or two shook their heads mechanically, and returned to their +suspended labor. He said, coolly:-- + +"Nobody here seems to." + +She felt that they were lying. She was only a woman against five +men. She was only a petty domestic tyrant; she might have been a +larger one. But she had all the courage of that possibility. + +"Major Randolph and my son are away," she went on, drawing herself +erect. "But I know that the major will pay liberally if these men +will search the field, besides making it all right with your-- +EMPLOYERS--for the loss of time." + +Dawson uttered a single word in a low voice to the man nearest him, +who apparently communicated it to the others, for the four men +stopped unloading, and moved away one after the other--even the +driver joining in the exodus. Mrs. Randolph smiled sarcastically; +it was plain that these people, with all their boasted independence, +were quite amenable to pecuniary considerations. Nevertheless, +as Dawson remained looking quietly at her, she said:-- + +"Then I suppose they've concluded to go and see?" + +"No; I've sent them away so that they couldn't HEAR." + +"Hear what?" + +"What I've got to say to you." + +She looked at him suddenly. Then she said, with a disdainful +glance around her: "I see I am helpless here, and--thanks to your +trickery--alone. Have a care, sir; I warn you that you will have +to answer to Major Randolph for any insolence." + +"I reckon you won't tell Major Randolph what I have to say to you," +he returned coolly. + +Her lips were nearly a grayish hue, but she said scornfully: "And +why not? Do you know who you are talking to?" + +The man came lazily forward to the carryall, carelessly brushed +aside the slack reins, and resting his elbows on the horse's back, +laid his chin on his hands, as he looked up in the woman's face. + +"Yes; I know who I'm talking to," he said coolly. "But as the +major don't, I reckon you won't tell him." + +"Stand away from that horse!" she said, her whole face taking the +grayish color of her lips, but her black eyes growing smaller and +brighter. "Hand me those reins, and let me pass! What canaille +are you to stop me?" + +"I thought so," returned the man, without altering his position; +"you don't know ME. You never saw ME before. Well, I'm Jim +Dawson, the nephew of L'Hommadieu, YOUR OLD MASTER!" + +She gripped the iron rail of the seat as if to leap from it, but +checked herself suddenly and leaned back, with a set smile on her +mouth that seemed stamped there. It was remarkable that with that +smile she flung away her old affectation of superciliousness for an +older and ruder audacity, and that not only the expression, but the +type of her face appeared to have changed. + +"I don't say," continued the man quietly, "that he didn't MARRY you +before he died. But you know as well as I do that the laws of his +State didn't recognize the marriage of a master with his octoroon +slave! And you know as well as I do that even if he had freed you, +he couldn't change your blood. Why, if I'd been willing to stay at +Avoyelles to be a nigger-driver like him, the plantation of 'de +Fontanges'--whose name you have taken--would have been left to me. +If YOU had stayed there, you might have been my property instead of +YOUR owning a square man like Randolph. You didn't think of that +when you came here, did you?" he said composedly. + +"Oh, mon Dieu!" she said, dropping rapidly into a different accent, +with her white teeth and fixed mirthless smile, "so it is a claim +for PROPERTY, eh? You're wanting money--you? Tres bien, you +forget we are in California, where one does not own a slave. And +you have a fine story there, my poor friend. Very pretty, but very +hard to prove, m'sieu. And these peasants are in it, eh, working +it on shares like the farm, eh?" + +"Well," said Dawson, slightly changing his position, and passing +his hand over the horse's neck with a half-wearied contempt, "one +of these men is from Plaquemine, and the other from Coupee. They +know all the l'Hommadieus' history. And they know a streak of the +tar brush when they see it. They took your measure when they came +here last year, and sized you up fairly. So had I, for the matter +of that, when I FIRST saw you. And we compared notes. But the +major is a square man, for all he is your husband, and we reckoned +he had a big enough contract on his hands to take care of you and +l'Hommadieu's half-breeds, and so"--he tossed the reins +contemptuously aside--"we kept this to ourselves." + +"And now you want--what--eh?" + +"We want an end to this foolery," he broke out roughly, stepping +back from the vehicle, and facing her suddenly, with his first +angry gesture. "We want an end to these airs and grimaces, and all +this dandy nigger business; we want an end to this 'cake-walking' +through the wheat, and flouting of the honest labor of your +betters. We want you and your 'de Fontanges' to climb down. And +we want an end to this roping-in of white folks to suit your little +game; we want an end to your trying to mix your nigger blood with +any one here, and we intend to stop it. We draw the line at the +major." + +Lashed as she had been by those words apparently out of all +semblance of her former social arrogance, a lower and more stubborn +resistance seemed to have sprung up in her, as she sat sideways, +watching him with her set smile and contracting eyes. + +"Ah," she said dryly, "so SHE IS HERE. I thought so. Which of you +is it, eh? It's a good spec--Mallory's a rich man. She's not +particular." + +The man had stopped as if listening, his head turned towards the +road. Then he turned carelessly, and facing her again, waved his +hand with a gesture of tired dismissal, and said, "Go! You'll find +your driver over there by the tool-shed. He has heard nothing yet-- +but I've given you fair warning. Go!" + +He walked slowly back towards the shed, as the woman, snatching up +the reins, drove violently off in the direction where the men had +disappeared. But she turned aside, ignoring her waiting driver in +her wild and reckless abandonment of all her old conventional +attitudes, and lashing her horse forward with the same set smile on +her face, the same odd relaxation of figure, and the same squaring +of her elbows. + +Avoiding the main road, she pushed into a narrow track that +intersected another nearer the scene of the accident to Rose's +buggy three weeks before. She had nearly passed it when she was +hailed by a strange voice, and looking up, perceived a horseman +floundering in the mazes of the wheat to one side of the track. +Whatever mean thought of her past life she was flying from, +whatever mean purpose she was flying to, she pulled up suddenly, +and as suddenly resumed her erect, aggressive stiffness. The +stranger was a middle-aged man; in dress and appearance a dweller +of cities. He lifted his hat as he perceived the occupant of the +wagon to be a lady. + +"I beg your pardon, but I fear I've lost my way in trying to make a +short cut to the Excelsior Company's Ranch." + +"You are in it now," said Mrs. Randolph, quickly. + +"Thank you, but where can I find the farmhouse?" + +"There is none," she returned, with her old superciliousness, +"unless you choose to give that name to the shanties and sheds +where the laborers and servants live, near the road." + +The stranger looked puzzled. "I'm looking for a Mr. Dawson," he +said reflectively, "but I may have made some mistake. Do you know +Major Randolph's house hereabouts?" + +"I do. I am Mrs. Randolph," she said stiffly. + +The stranger's brow cleared, and he smiled pleasantly. "Then this +is a fortunate meeting," he said, raising his hat again as he +reined in his horse beside the wagon, "for I am Mr. Mallory, and I +was looking forward to the pleasure of presenting myself to you an +hour or two later. The fact is, an old acquaintance, Mr. Dawson, +telegraphed me yesterday to meet him here on urgent business, and I +felt obliged to go there first." + +Mrs. Randolph's eyes sparkled with a sudden gratified intelligence, +but her manner seemed rather to increase than abate its grim +precision. + +"Our meeting this morning, Mr. Mallory, is both fortunate and +unfortunate, for I regret to say that your daughter, who has not +been quite herself since the earthquake, was missing early this +morning and has not yet been found, though we have searched +everywhere. Understand me," she said, as the stranger started, "I +have no fear for her PERSONAL safety, I am only concerned for any +INDISCRETION that she may commit in the presence of these strangers +whose company she would seem to prefer to ours." + +"But I don't understand you, madam," said Mallory, sternly; "you +are speaking of my daughter, and"-- + +"Excuse me, Mr. Mallory," said Mrs. Randolph, lifting her hand with +her driest deprecation and her most desiccating smile, "I'm not +passing judgment or criticism. I am of a foreign race, and +consequently do not understand the freedom of American young +ladies, and their familiarity with the opposite sex. I make no +charges, I only wish to assure you that she will no doubt be found +in the company and under the protection of her own countrymen. +There is," she added with ironical distinctness, "a young mechanic, +or field hand, or 'quack well-doctor,' whom she seems to admire, +and with whom she appears to be on equal terms." + +Mallory regarded her for a moment fixedly, and then his sternness +relaxed to a mischievously complacent smile. "That must be young +Bent, of whom I've heard," he said with unabated cheerfulness. +"And I don't know but what she may be with him, after all. For now +I think of it, a chuckle-headed fellow, of whom a moment ago I +inquired the way to your house, told me I'd better ask the young +man and young woman who were 'philandering through the wheat' +yonder. Suppose we look for them. From what I've heard of Bent +he's too much wrapped up in his inventions for flirtation, but it +would be a good joke to stumble upon them." + +Mrs. Randolph's eyes sparkled with a mingling of gratified malice +and undisguised contempt for the fatuous father beside her. But +before she could accept or decline the challenge, it had become +useless. A murmur of youthful voices struck her ear, and she +suddenly stood upright and transfixed in the carriage. For +lounging down slowly towards them out of the dim green aisles of +the arbored wheat, lost in themselves and the shimmering veil of +their seclusion, came the engineer, Thomas Bent, and on his arm, +gazing ingenuously into his face, the figure of Adele,--her own +perfect daughter. + + +"I don't think, my dear," said Mr. Mallory, as the anxious Rose +flew into his arms on his return to San Jose, a few hours later, +"that it will be necessary for you to go back again to Major +Randolph's before we leave. I have said 'Good-by' for you and +thanked them, and your trunks are packed and will be sent here. +The fact is, my dear, you see this affair of the earthquake and the +disaster to the artesian well have upset all their arrangements, +and I am afraid that my little girl would be only in their way just +now." + +"And you have seen Mr. Dawson--and you know why he sent for you?" +asked the young girl, with nervous eagerness. + +"Ah, yes," said Mr. Mallory thoughtfully, "THAT was really +important. You see, my child," he continued, taking her hand in +one of his own and patting the back of it gently with the other, +"we think, Dawson and I, of taking over the major's ranch and +incorporating it with the Excelsior in one, to be worked on shares +like the Excelsior; and as Mrs. Randolph is very anxious to return +to the Atlantic States with her children, it is quite possible. +Mrs. Randolph, as you have possibly noticed," Mr. Mallory went on, +still patting his daughter's hand, "does not feel entirely at home +here, and will consequently leave the major free to rearrange, by +himself, the ranch on the new basis. In fact, as the change must +be made before the crops come in, she talks of going next week. +But if you like the place, Rose, I've no doubt the major and Dawson +will always find room for you and me when we run down there for a +little fresh air." + +"And did you have all that in your mind, papa, when you came down +here, and was that what you and Mr. Dawson wanted to talk about?" +said the astonished Rose. + +"Mainly, my dear, mainly. You see I'm a capitalist now, and the +real value of capital is to know how and when to apply it to +certain conditions." + +"And this Mr.--Mr. Bent--do you think--he will go on and find the +water, papa?" said Rose, hesitatingly. + +"Ah! Bent--Tom Bent--oh, yes," said Mallory, with great heartiness. +"Capital fellow, Bent! and mighty ingenious! Glad you met him! +Well," thoughtfully but still heartily, "he may not find it exactly +where he expected, but he'll find it or something better. We can't +part with him, and he has promised Dawson to stay. We'll utilize +HIM, you may be sure." + +It would seem that they did, and from certain interviews and +conversations that took place between Mr. Bent and Miss Mallory on +a later visit, it would also appear that her father had exercised a +discreet reticence in regard to a certain experiment of the young +inventor, of which he had been an accidental witness. + + + +A MAECENAS OF THE PACIFIC SLOPE + + +CHAPTER I + + +As Mr. Robert Rushbrook, known to an imaginative press as the +"Maecenas of the Pacific Slope," drove up to his country seat, +equally referred to as a "palatial villa," he cast a quick but +practical look at the pillared pretensions of that enormous shell +of wood and paint and plaster. The statement, also a reportorial +one, that its site, the Canyon of Los Osos, "some three years ago +was disturbed only by the passing tread of bear and wild-cat," had +lost some of its freshness as a picturesque apology, and already +successive improvements on the original building seemingly cast the +older part of the structure back to a hoary antiquity. To many it +stood as a symbol of everything Robert Rushbrook did or had done-- +an improvement of all previous performances; it was like his own +life--an exciting though irritating state of transition to +something better. Yet the visible architectural result, as here +shown, was scarcely harmonious; indeed, some of his friends--and +Maecenas had many--professed to classify the various improvements +by the successive fortunate ventures in their owner's financial +career, which had led to new additions, under the names, of "The +Comstock Lode Period," "The Union Pacific Renaissance," "The Great +Wheat Corner," and "Water Front Gable Style," a humorous trifling +that did not, however, prevent a few who were artists from +accepting Maecenas's liberal compensation for their services in +giving shape to those ideas. + +Relinquishing to a groom his fast-trotting team, the second relay +in his two hours' drive from San Francisco, he leaped to the ground +to meet the architect, already awaiting his orders in the +courtyard. With his eyes still fixed upon the irregular building +before him, he mingled his greeting and his directions. + +"Look here, Barker, we'll have a wing thrown out here, and a +hundred-foot ballroom. Something to hold a crowd; something that +can be used for music--sabe?--a concert, or a show." + +"Have you thought of any style, Mr. Rushbrook?" suggested the +architect. + +"No," said Rushbrook; "I've been thinking of the time--thirty days, +and everything to be in. You'll stop to dinner. I'll have you sit +near Jack Somers. You can talk style to him. Say I told you." + +"You wish it completed in thirty days?" repeated the architect, +dubiously. + +"Well, I shouldn't mind if it were less. You can begin at once. +There's a telegraph in the house. Patrick will take any message, +and you can send up to San Francisco and fix things before dinner." + +Before the man could reply, Rushbrook was already giving a hurried +interview to the gardener and others on his way to the front porch. +In another moment he had entered his own hall,--a wonderful temple +of white and silver plaster, formal, yet friable like the sugared +erection of a wedding cake,--where his major-domo awaited him. + +"Well, who's here?" asked Rushbrook, still advancing towards his +apartments. + +"Dinner is set for thirty, sir," said the functionary, keeping step +demurely with his master, "but Mr. Appleby takes ten over to San +Mateo, and some may sleep there. The char-a-banc is still out and +five saddle-horses, to a picnic in Green Canyon, and I can't +positively say, but I should think you might count on seeing about +forty-five guests before you go to town to-morrow. The opera +troupe seem to have not exactly understood the invitation, sir." + +"How? I gave it myself." + +"The chorus and supernumeraries thought themselves invited too, +sir, and have come, I believe, sir. At least Signora Pegrelli and +Madame Denise said so, and that they would speak to you about it, +but that meantime I could put them up anywhere." + +"And you made no distinction, of course?" + +"No, sir, I put them in the corresponding rooms opposite, sir. +I don't think the prima donnas like it." + +"Ah!" + +"Yes, sir." + +Whatever was in their minds, the two men never changed their +steady, practical gravity of manner. The major-domo's appeared to +be a subdued imitation of his master's, worn, as he might have worn +his master's clothes, had he accepted, or Mr. Rushbrook permitted, +such a degradation. By this time they had reached the door of Mr. +Rushbrook's room, and the man paused. "I didn't include some +guests of Mr. Leyton's, sir, that he brought over here to show +around the place, but he told me to tell you he would take them +away again, or leave them, as you liked. They're some Eastern +strangers stopping with him." + +"All right," said Rushbrook, quietly, as he entered his own +apartment. It was decorated as garishly as the hall, as staring +and vivid in color, but wholesomely new and clean for all its +paint, veneering, and plaster. It was filled with heterogeneous +splendor--all new and well kept, yet with so much of the attitude +of the show-room still lingering about it that one almost expected +to see the various articles of furniture ticketed with their +prices. A luxurious bed, with satin hangings and Indian carved +posts, standing ostentatiously in a corner, kept up this +resemblance, for in a curtained recess stood a worn camp bedstead, +Rushbrook's real couch, Spartan in its simplicity. + +Mr. Rushbrook drew his watch from his pocket, and deliberately +divested himself of his boots, coat, waistcoat, and cravat. Then +rolling himself in a fleecy, blanket-like rug with something of the +habitual dexterity of a frontiersman, he threw himself on his +couch, closed his eyes, and went instantly to sleep. Lying there, +he appeared to be a man comfortably middle-aged, with thick iron- +gray hair that might have curled had he encouraged such +inclination; a skin roughened and darkened by external hardships +and exposure, but free from taint of inner vice or excess, and +indistinctive features redeemed by a singularly handsome mouth. As +the lower part of the face was partly hidden by a dense but +closely-cropped beard, it is probable that the delicate outlines of +his lips had gained something from their framing. + +He slept, through what seemed to be the unnatural stillness of the +large house,--a quiet that might have come from the lingering +influence of the still virgin solitude around it, as if Nature had +forgotten the intrusion, or were stealthily retaking her own; and +later, through the rattle of returning wheels or the sound of +voices, which were, however, promptly absorbed in that deep and +masterful silence which was the unabdicating genius of the canyon. +For it was remarkable that even the various artists, musicians, +orators, and poets whom Maecenas had gathered in his cool business +fashion under that roof, all seemed to become, by contrast with +surrounding Nature, as new and artificial as the house, and as +powerless to assert themselves against its influence. + +He was still sleeping when James re-entered the room, but awoke +promptly at the sound of his voice. In a few moments he had +rearranged his scarcely disordered toilette, and stepped out +refreshed and observant into the hall. The guests were still +absent from that part of the building, and he walked leisurely past +the carelessly opened doors of the rooms they had left. Everywhere +he met the same glaring ornamentation and color, the same +garishness of treatment, the same inharmonious extravagance of +furniture, and everywhere the same troubled acceptance of it by the +inmates, or the same sense of temporary and restricted tenancy. +Dresses were hung over cheval glasses; clothes piled up on chairs +to avoid the use of doubtful and over ornamented wardrobes, and in +some cases more practical guests had apparently encamped in a +corner of their apartment. A gentleman from Siskyou--sole +proprietor of a mill patent now being considered by Maecenas--had +confined himself to a rocking-chair and clothes-horse as being +trustworthy and familiar; a bolder spirit from Yreka--in treaty for +capital to start an independent journal devoted to Maecenas's +interests--had got a good deal out of, and indeed all he had INTO, +a Louis XVI. armoire; while a young painter from Sacramento had +simply retired into his adjoining bath-room, leaving the glories of +his bedroom untarnished. Suddenly he paused. + +He had turned into a smaller passage in order to make a shorter cut +through one of the deserted suites of apartments that should bring +him to that part of the building where he designed to make his +projected improvement, when his feet were arrested on the threshold +of a sitting-room. Although it contained the same decoration and +furniture as the other rooms, it looked totally different! It was +tasteful, luxurious, comfortable, and habitable. The furniture +seemed to have fallen into harmonious position; even the staring +decorations of the walls and ceiling were toned down by sprays of +laurel and red-stained manzanito boughs with their berries, +apparently fresh plucked from the near canyon. But he was more +unexpectedly impressed to see that the room was at that moment +occupied by a tall, handsome girl, who had paused to take breath, +with her hand still on the heavy centre-table she was moving. +Standing there, graceful, glowing, and animated, she looked the +living genius of the recreated apartment. + + +CHAPTER II + + +Mr. Rushbrook glanced rapidly at his unknown guest. "Excuse me," +he said, with respectful business brevity, "but I thought every one +was out," and he stepped backward quickly. + +"I've only just come," she said without embarrassment, "and would +you mind, as you ARE here, giving me a lift with this table?" + +"Certainly," replied Rushbrook, and under the young girl's +direction the millionaire moved the table to one side. + +During the operation he was trying to determine which of his +unrecognized guests the fair occupant was. Possibly one of the +Leyton party, that James had spoken of as impending. + +"Then you have changed all the furniture, and put up these things?" +he asked, pointing to the laurel. + +"Yes, the room was really something TOO awful. It looks better +now, don't you think?" + +"A hundred per cent.," said Rushbrook, promptly. "Look here, I'll +tell you what you've done. You've set the furniture TO WORK! It +was simply lying still--with no return to anybody on the investment." + +The young girl opened her gray eyes at this, and then smiled. The +intruder seemed to be characteristic of California. As for +Rushbrook, he regretted that he did not know her better, he would +at once have asked her to rearrange all the rooms, and have managed +in some way liberally to reward her for it. A girl like that had +no nonsense about her. + +"Yes," she said, "I wonder Mr. Rushbrook don't look at it in that +way. It is a shame that all these pretty things--and you know they +are really good and valuable--shouldn't show what they are. But I +suppose everybody here accepts the fact that this man simply buys +them because they are valuable, and nobody interferes, and is +content to humor him, laugh at him, and feel superior. It don't +strike me as quite fair, does it you?" + +Rushbrook was pleased. Without the vanity that would be either +annoyed at this revelation of his reputation, or gratified at her +defense of it, he was simply glad to discover that she had not +recognized him as her host, and could continue the conversation +unreservedly. "Have you seen the ladies' boudoir?" he asked. "You +know, the room fitted with knick-knacks and pretty things--some of +'em bought from old collections in Europe, by fellows who knew what +they were but perhaps," he added, looking into her eyes for the +first time, "didn't know exactly what ladies cared for." + +"I merely glanced in there when I first came, for there was such a +queer lot of women--I'm told he isn't very particular in that way-- +that I didn't stay." + +"And you didn't think THEY might be just as valuable and good as +some of the furniture, if they could have been pulled around and +put into shape, or set in a corner, eh?" + +The young girl smiled; she thought her fellow-guest rather amusing, +none the less so, perhaps, for catching up her own ideas, but +nevertheless she slightly shrugged her shoulders with that hopeless +skepticism which women reserve for their own sex. "Some of them +looked as if they had been pulled around, as you say, and hadn't +been improved by it." + +"There's no one there now," said Rushbrook, with practical +directness; "come and take a look at it." She complied without +hesitation, walking by his side, tall, easy, and self-possessed, +apparently accepting without self-consciousness his half paternal, +half comrade-like informality. The boudoir was a large room, +repeating on a bigger scale the incongruousness and ill fitting +splendor of the others. When she had of her own accord recognized +and pointed out the more admirable articles, he said, gravely +looking at his watch, "We've just about seven minutes yet; if you'd +like to pull and haul these things around, I'll help you." + +The young girl smiled. "I'm quite content with what I've done in +my own room, where I have no one's taste to consult but my own. I +hardly know how Mr. Rushbrook, or his lady friends, might like my +operating here." Then recognizing with feminine tact the snub that +might seem implied in her refusal, she said quickly, "Tell me +something about our host--but first look! isn't that pretty?" + +She had stopped before the window that looked upon the dim blue +abyss of the canyon, and was leaning out to gaze upon it. +Rushbrook joined her. + +"There isn't much to be changed down THERE, is there?" he said, +half interrogatively. + +"No, not unless Mr. Rushbrook took it into his head to roof it in, +and somebody was ready with a contract to do it. But what do you +know of him? Remember, I'm quite a stranger here." + +"You came with Charley Leyton?" + +"With MRS. Leyton's party," said the young girl, with a half- +smiling emphasis. "But it seems that we don't know whether Mr. +Rushbrook wants us here or not till he comes. And the drollest +thing about it is that they're all so perfectly frank in saying +so." + +"Charley and he are old friends, and you'll do well to trust to +their judgment." + +This was hardly the kind of response that the handsome and clever +society girl before him had been in the habit of receiving, but it +amused her. Her fellow-guest was decidedly original. But he +hadn't told her about Rushbrook, and it struck her that his opinion +would be independent, at least. She reminded him of it. + +"Look here," said Rushbrook, "you'll meet a man here to-night--or +he'll be sure to meet YOU--who'll tell you all about Rushbrook. +He's a smart chap, knows everybody and talks well. His name is +Jack Somers; he is a great ladies' man. He can talk to you about +these sort of things, too,"--indicating the furniture with a half +tolerant, half contemptuous gesture, that struck her as +inconsistent with what seemed to be his previous interest,--"just +as well as he can talk of people. Been in Europe, too." + +The young girl's eye brightened with a quick vivacity at the name, +but a moment after became reflective and slightly embarrassed. "I +know him--I met him at Mr. Leyton's. He has already talked of Mr. +Rushbrook, but," she added, avoiding any conclusion, with a pretty +pout, "I'd like to have the opinion of others. Yours, now, I fancy +would be quite independent." + +"You stick to what Jack Somers has said, good or bad, and you won't +be far wrong," he said assuringly. He stopped; his quick ear had +heard approaching voices; he returned to her and held out his hand. +As it seemed to her that in California everybody shook hands with +everybody else on the slightest occasions, sometimes to save +further conversation, she gave him her own. He shook it, less +forcibly than she had feared, and abruptly left her. For a moment +she was piqued at this superior and somewhat brusque way of +ignoring her request, but reflecting that it might be the +awkwardness of an untrained man, she dismissed it from her mind. +The voices of her friends in the already resounding passages also +recalled her to the fact that she had been wandering about the +house with a stranger, and she rejoined them a little self- +consciously. + +"Well, my dear," said Mrs. Leyton, gayly, "it seems we are to stay. +Leyton says Rushbrook won't hear of our going." + +"Does that mean that your husband takes the whole opera troupe over +to your house in exchange?" + +"Don't be satirical, but congratulate yourself on your opportunity +of seeing an awfully funny gathering. I wouldn't have you miss it +for the world. It's the most characteristic thing out." + +"Characteristic of what?" + +"Of Rushbrook, of course. Nobody else would conceive of getting +together such a lot of queer people." + +"But don't it strike you that we're a part of the lot?" + +"Perhaps," returned the lively Mrs. Leyton. "No doubt that's the +reason why Jack Somers is coming over, and is so anxious that YOU +should stay. I can't imagine why else he should rave about Miss +Grace Nevil as he does. Come, Grace, no New York or Philadelphia +airs, here! Consider your uncle's interests with this capitalist, +to say nothing of ours. Because you're a millionaire and have been +accustomed to riches from your birth, don't turn up your nose at +our unpampered appetites. Besides, Jack Somers is Rushbrook's +particular friend, and he may think your criticisms unkind." + +"But IS Mr. Somers such a great friend of Mr. Rushbrook's?" asked +Grace Nevil. + +"Why, of course. Rushbrook consults him about all these things; +gives him carte blanche to invite whom he likes and order what he +likes, and trusts his taste and judgment implicitly." + +"Then this gathering is Mr. Somers's selection?" + +"How preposterous you are, Grace. Of course not. Only Somers's +IDEA of what is pleasing to Rushbrook, gotten up with a taste and +discretion all his own. You know Somers is a gentleman, educated +at West Point--traveled all over Europe--you might have met him +there; and Rushbrook--well, you have only to see him to know what +HE is. Don't you understand?" + +A slight seriousness; the same shadow that once before darkened the +girl's charming face gave way to a mischievous knitting of her +brows as she said naively, "No." + + +CHAPTER III + + +Grace Nevil had quite recovered her equanimity when the +indispensable Mr. Somers, handsome, well-bred, and self-restrained, +approached her later in the crowded drawing-room. Blended with his +subdued personal admiration was a certain ostentation of respect-- +as of a tribute to a distinguished guest--that struck her. "I am +to have the pleasure of taking you in, Miss Nevil," he said. "It's +my one compensation for the dreadful responsibility just thrust +upon me. Our host has been suddenly called away, and I am left to +take his place." + +Miss Nevil was slightly startled. Nevertheless, she smiled +graciously. "From what I hear this is no new function of yours; +that is, if there really IS a Mr. Rushbrook. I am inclined to +think him a myth." + +"You make me wish he were," retorted Somers, gallantly; "but as I +couldn't reign at all, except in his stead, I shall look to you to +lend your rightful grace to my borrowed dignity." + +The more general announcement to the company was received with +a few perfidious regrets from the more polite, but with only +amused surprise by the majority. Indeed, many considered it +"characteristic"--"so like Bob Rushbrook," and a few enthusiastic +friends looked upon it as a crowning and intentional stroke of +humor. It remained, however, for the gentleman from Siskyou to +give the incident a subtlety that struck Miss Nevil's fancy. "It +reminds me," he said in her hearing, "of ole Kernel Frisbee, of +Robertson County, one of the purlitest men I ever struck. When he +knew a feller was very dry, he'd jest set the decanter afore him, +and managed to be called outer the room on bus'ness. Now, Bob +Rushbrook's about as white a man as that. He's jest the feller, +who, knowing you and me might feel kinder restrained about +indulging our appetites afore him, kinder drops out easy, and +leaves us alone." And she was impressed by an instinct that the +speaker really felt the delicacy he spoke of, and that it left no +sense of inferiority behind. + +The dinner, served in a large, brilliantly-lit saloon, that in +floral decoration and gilded columns suggested an ingenious +blending of a steamboat table d'hote and "harvest home," was +perfect in its cuisine, even if somewhat extravagant in its +proportions. + +"I should be glad to receive the salary that Rushbrook pays his +chef, and still happier to know how to earn it as fairly," said +Somers to his fair companion. + +"But is his skill entirely appreciated here?" she asked. + +"Perfectly," responded Somers. "Our friend from Siskyou over there +appreciates that 'pate' which he cannot name as well as I do. +Rushbrook himself is the only exception, yet I fancy that even HIS +simplicity and regularity in feeding is as much a matter of +business with him as any defect in his earlier education. In his +eyes, his chef's greatest qualification is his promptness and +fertility. Have you noticed that ornament before you?" pointing to +an elaborate confection. "It bears your initials, you see. It was +conceived and executed since you arrived--rather, I should say, +since it was known that you would honor us with your company. The +greatest difficulty encountered was to find out what your initials +were." + +"And I suppose," mischievously added the young girl to her +acknowledgments, "that the same fertile mind which conceived the +design eventually provided the initials?" + +"That is our secret," responded Somers, with affected gravity. + +The wines were of characteristic expensiveness, and provoked the +same general comment. Rushbrook seldom drank wine; Somers had +selected it. But the barbaric opulence of the entertainment +culminated in the Californian fruits, piled in pyramids on silver +dishes, gorgeous and unreal in their size and painted beauty, and +the two Divas smiled over a basket of grapes and peaches as +outrageous in dimensions and glaring color as any pasteboard +banquet at which they had professionally assisted. As the courses +succeeded each other, under the exaltation of wine, conversation +became more general as regarded participation, but more local and +private as regarded the subject, until Miss Nevil could no longer +follow it. The interests of that one, the hopes of another, the +claims of a third, in affairs that were otherwise uninteresting, +were all discussed with singular youthfulness of trust that to her +alone seemed remarkable. Not that she lacked entertainment from +the conversation of her clever companion, whose confidences and +criticisms were very pleasant to her; but she had a gentlewoman's +instinct that he talked to her too much, and more than was +consistent with his duties as the general host. She looked around +the table for her singular acquaintance of an hour before, but she +had not seen him since. She would have spoken about him to Somers, +but she had an instinctive idea that the latter would be +antipathetic, in spite of the stranger's flattering commendation. +So she found herself again following Somers's cynical but good- +humored description of the various guests, and, I fear, seeing with +his eyes, listening with his ears, and occasionally participating +in his superior attitude. The "fearful joy" she had found in the +novelty of the situation and the originality of the actors seemed +now quite right from this critical point of view. So she learned +how the guest with the long hair was an unknown painter, to whom +Rushbrook had given a commission for three hundred yards of painted +canvas, to be cut up and framed as occasion and space required, in +Rushbrook's new hotel in San Francisco; how the gray-bearded +foreigner near him was an accomplished bibliophile who was +furnishing Mr. Rushbrook's library from spoils of foreign +collections, and had suffered unheard-of agonies from the +millionaire's insisting upon a handsome uniform binding that should +deprive certain precious but musty tomes of their crumbling, worm- +eaten coverings; how the very gentle, clerical-looking stranger, +mildest of a noisy, disputing crowd at the other table, was a +notorious duelist and dead shot; how the only gentleman at the +table who retained a flannel shirt and high boots was not a late- +coming mountaineer, but a well-known English baronet on his +travels; how the man who told a somewhat florid and emphatic +anecdote was a popular Eastern clergyman; how the one querulous, +discontented face in a laughing group was the famous humorist who +had just convulsed it; and how a pale, handsome young fellow, who +ate and drank sparingly and disregarded the coquettish advances of +the prettiest Diva with the cold abstraction of a student, was a +notorious roue and gambler. But there was a sudden and unlooked- +for change of criticism and critic. + +The festivity had reached that stage when the guests were more or +less accessible to emotion, and more or less touched by the +astounding fact that every one was enjoying himself. This +phenomenon, which is apt to burst into song or dance among other +races, is constrained to voice itself in an Anglo-Saxon gathering +by some explanation, apology, or moral--known as an after-dinner +speech. Thus it was that the gentleman from Siskyou, who had been +from time to time casting glances at Somers and his fair companion +at the head of the table, now rose to his feet, albeit unsteadily, +pushed back his chair, and began:-- + +"'Pears to me, ladies and gentlemen, and feller pardners, that on +an occasion like this, suthin' oughter be said of the man who got +it up--whose money paid for it, and who ain't here to speak for +himself, except by deputy. Yet you all know that's Bob Rushbrook's +style--he ain't here, because he's full of some other plan or +improvements--and it's like him to start suthin' of this kind, give +it its aim and purpose, and then stand aside to let somebody else +run it for him. There ain't no man livin' ez hez, so to speak, +more fast horses ready saddled for riding, and more fast men ready +spurred to ride 'em,--whether to win his races or run his errands. +There ain't no man livin' ez knows better how to make other men's +games his, or his game seem to be other men's. And from Jack +Somers smilin' over there, ez knows where to get the best wine that +Bob pays for, and knows how to run this yer show for Bob, at Bob's +expense--we're all contented. Ladies and gentlemen, we're all +contented. We stand, so to speak, on the cards he's dealt us. +What may be his little game, it ain't for us to say; but whatever +it is, WE'RE IN IT. Gentlemen and ladies, we'll drink Bob's +health!" + +There was a somewhat sensational pause, followed by good-natured +laughter and applause, in which Somers joined; yet not without a +certain constraint that did not escape the quick sympathy of the +shocked and unsmiling Miss Nevil. It was with a feeling of relief +that she caught the chaperoning eye of Mrs. Leyton, who was +entreating her in the usual mysterious signal to the other ladies +to rise and follow her. When she reached the drawing-room, a +little behind the others, she was somewhat surprised to observe +that the stranger whom she had missed during the evening was +approaching her with Mrs. Leyton. + +"Mr. Rushbrook returned sooner than he expected, but unfortunately, +as he always retires early, he has only time to say 'goodnight' to +you before he goes." + +For an instant Grace Nevil was more angry than disconcerted. Then +came the conviction that she was stupid not to have suspected the +truth before. Who else would that brusque stranger develop into +but this rude host? She bowed formally. + +Mr. Rushbrook looked at her with the faintest smile on his handsome +mouth. "Well, Miss Nevil, I hope Jack Somers satisfied your +curiosity?" + +With a sudden recollection of the Siskyou gentleman's speech, and a +swift suspicion that in some way she had been made use of with the +others by this forceful-looking man before her, she answered +pertly:-- + +"Yes; but there was a speech by a gentleman from Siskyou that +struck me as being nearer to the purpose." + +"That's so,--I heard it as I came in, said Mr. Rushbrook, calmly. +"I don't know but you're right." + + +CHAPTER IV + + +Six months had passed. The Villa of Maecenas was closed at Los +Osos Canyon, and the southwest trade-winds were slanting the rains +of the wet season against its shut windows and barred doors. +Within that hollow, deserted shell, its aspect--save for a single +exception--was unchanged; the furniture and decorations preserved +their eternal youth undimmed by time; the rigidly-arranged rooms, +now closed to life and light, developed more than ever their +resemblance to a furniture warehouse. The single exception was the +room which Grace Nevil had rearranged for herself; and that, oddly +enough, was stripped and bare--even to its paper and mouldings. + +In other respects, the sealed treasures of Rushbrook's villa, far +from provoking any sentimentality, seemed only to give truth to the +current rumor that it was merely waiting to be transformed into a +gorgeous watering-place hotel under Rushbrook's direction; that, +with its new ball-room changed into an elaborate dining-hall, it +would undergo still further improvement, the inevitable end and +object of all Rushbrook's enterprise; and that its former +proprietor had already begun another villa whose magnificence +should eclipse the last. There certainly appeared to be no limit +to the millionaire's success in all that he personally undertook, +or in his fortunate complicity with the enterprise and invention of +others. His name was associated with the oldest and safest +schemes, as well as the newest and boldest--with an equal guarantee +of security. A few, it was true, looked doubtingly upon this "one +man power," but could not refute the fact that others had largely +benefited by association with him, and that he shared his profits +with a royal hand. Some objected on higher grounds to his +brutalizing the influence of wealth by his material and +extravagantly practical processes, instead of the gentler +suggestions of education and personal example, and were impelled to +point out the fact that he and his patronage were vulgar. It was +felt, however, by those who received his benefits, that a proper +sense of this inferiority was all that ethics demanded of them. +One could still accept Rushbrook's barbaric gifts by humorously +recognizing the fact that he didn't know any better, and that it +pleased him, as long as they resented any higher pretensions. + +The rain-beaten windows of Rushbrook's town house, however, were +cheerfully lit that December evening. Mr. Rushbrook seldom dined +alone; in fact, it was popularly alleged that very often the +unfinished business of the day was concluded over his bountiful and +perfect board. He was dressing as James entered the room. + +"Mr. Leyton is in your study, sir; he will stay to dinner." + +"All right." + +"I think, sir," added James, with respectful suggestiveness, "he +wants to talk. At least, sir, he asked me if you would likely come +downstairs before your company arrived." + +"Ah! Well, tell the others I'm dining on BUSINESS, and set dinner +for two in the blue room." + +"Yes, sir." + +Meanwhile, Mr. Leyton--a man of Rushbrook's age, but not so fresh +and vigorous-looking--had thrown himself in a chair beside the +study fire, after a glance around the handsome and familiar room. +For the house had belonged to a brother millionaire; it had changed +hands with certain shares of "Water Front,"--as some of Rushbrook's +dealings had the true barbaric absence of money detail,--and was +elegantly and tastefully furnished. The cuckoo had, however, +already laid a few characteristic eggs in this adopted nest, and a +white marble statue of a nude and ill-fed Virtue, sent over by +Rushbrook's Paris agent, and unpacked that morning, stood in one +corner, and materially brought down the temperature. A Japanese +praying-throne of pure ivory, and, above it, a few yards of +improper, colored exposure by an old master, equalized each other. + +"And what is all this affair about the dinner?" suddenly asked a +tartly-pitched female voice with a foreign accent. + +Mr. Leyton turned quickly, and was just conscious of a faint +shriek, the rustle of a skirt, and the swift vanishing of a woman's +figure from the doorway. Mr. Leyton turned red. Rushbrook lived +en garcon, with feminine possibilities; Leyton was a married man +and a deacon. The incident which, to a man of the world, would +have brought only a smile, fired the inexperienced Leyton with +those exaggerated ideas and intense credulity regarding vice common +to some very good men. He walked on tip-toe to the door, and +peered into the passage. At that moment Rushbrook entered from the +opposite door of the room. + +"Well," said Rushbrook, with his usual practical directness, "what +do you think of her?" + +Leyton, still flushed, and with eyebrows slightly knit, said, +awkwardly, that he had scarcely seen her. + +"She cost me already ten thousand dollars, and I suppose I'll have +to eventually fix up a separate room for her somewhere," continued +Rushhrook. + +"I should certainly advise it," said Leyton, quickly, "for really, +Rushbrook, you know that something is due to the respectable people +who come here, and any of them are likely to see"-- + +"Ah!" interrupted Rushbrook, seriously, "you think she hasn't got +on clothes enough. Why, look here, old man--she's one of the +Virtues, and that's the rig in which they always travel. She's a +'Temperance' or a 'Charity' or a 'Resignation,' or something of +that kind. You'll find her name there in French somewhere at the +foot of the marble." + +Leyton saw his mistake, but felt--as others sometimes felt--a doubt +whether this smileless man was not inwardly laughing at him. He +replied, with a keen, rapid glance at his host:-- + +"I was referring to some woman who stood in that doorway just now, +and addressed me rather familiarly, thinking it was you." + +"Oh, the Signora," said Rushbrook, with undisturbed directness; +"well, you saw her at Los Osos last summer. Likely she DID think +you were me." + +The cool ignoring of any ulterior thought in Leyton's objection +forced the guest to be equally practical in his reply. + +"Yes, but the fact is that Miss Nevil had talked of coming here +with me this evening to see you on her own affairs, and it wouldn't +have been exactly the thing for her to meet that woman." + +"She wouldn't," said Rushbrook, promptly; "nor would YOU, if you +had gone into the parlor as Miss Nevil would have done. But look +here! If that's the reason why you didn't bring her, send for her +at once; my coachman can take a card from you; the brougham's all +ready to fetch her, and there you are. She'll see only you and +me." He was already moving towards the bell, when Leyton stopped +him. + +"No matter now. I can tell you her business, I fancy; and in fact, +I came here to speak of it, quite independently of her." + +"That won't do, Leyton," interrupted Rushbrook, with crisp +decision. "One or the other interview is unnecessary; it wastes +time, and isn't business. Better have her present, even if she +don't say a word." + +"Yes, but not in this matter," responded Leyton; "it's about +Somers. You know he's been very attentive to her ever since her +uncle left her here to recruit her health, and I think she fancies +him. Well, although she's independent and her own mistress, as you +know, Mrs. Leyton and I are somewhat responsible for her +acquaintance with Somers,--and for that matter so are you; and as +my wife thinks it means a marriage, we ought to know something more +positive about Somers's prospects. Now, all we really know is that +he's a great friend of yours; that you trust a good deal to him; +that he manages your social affairs; that you treat him as a son or +nephew, and it's generally believed that he's as good as provided +for by you--eh? Did you speak?" + +"No," said Rushbrook, quietly regarding the statue as if taking its +measurement for a suitable apartment for it. "Go on." + +"Well," said Leyton, a little impatiently, "that's the belief +everybody has, and you've not contradicted it. And on that we've +taken the responsibility of not interfering with Somers's +attentions." + +"Well?" said Rushbrook, interrogatively. + +"Well," replied Leyton, emphatically, "you see I must ask you +positively if you HAVE done anything, or are you going to do +anything for him?" + +"Well," replied Rushbrook, with exasperating coolness, "what do you +call this marriage?" + +"I don't understand you," said Leyton. + +"Look here, Leyton," said Rushbrook, suddenly and abruptly facing +him; "Jack Somers has brains, knowledge of society, tact, +accomplishments, and good looks: that's HIS capital as much as mine +is money. I employ him: that's his advertisement, recommendation, +and credit. Now, on the strength of this, as you say, Miss Nevil +is willing to invest in him; I don't see what more can be done." + +"But if her uncle don't think it enough?" + +"She's independent, and has money for both." + +"But if she thinks she's been deceived, and changes her mind?" + +"Leyton, you don't know Miss Nevil. Whatever that girl undertakes +she's weighed fully, and goes through with. If she's trusted him +enough to marry him, money won't stop her; if she thinks she's been +deceived, YOU'LL never know it." + +The enthusiasm and conviction were so unlike Rushbrook's usual +cynical toleration of the sex that Leyton stared at him. + +"That's odd," he returned. "That's what she says of you." + +"Of ME; you mean Somers?" + +"No, of YOU. Come, Rushbrook, don't pretend you don't know that +Miss Nevil is a great partisan of yours, swears by you, says you're +misunderstood by people, and, what's infernally odd in a woman who +don't belong to the class you fancy, don't talk of your habits. +That's why she wants to consult you about Somers, I suppose, and +that's why, knowing you might influence her, I came here first to +warn you." + +"And I've told you that whatever I might say or do wouldn't +influence her. So we'll drop the subject." + +"Not yet; for you're bound to see Miss Nevil sooner or later. Now, +if she knows that you've done nothing for this man, your friend and +her lover, won't she be justified in thinking that you would have a +reason for it?" + +"Yes. I should give it." + +"What reason?" + +"That I knew she'd be more contented to have him speculate with HER +money than mine." + +"Then you think that he isn't a business man?" + +"I think that she thinks so, or she wouldn't marry him; it's part +of the attraction. But come, James has been for five minutes +discreetly waiting outside the door to tell us dinner is ready, and +the coast clear of all other company. But look here," he said, +suddenly stopping, with his arm in Leyton's, "you're through your +talk, I suppose; perhaps you'd rather we'd dine with the Signora +and the others than alone?" + +For an instant Leyton thrilled with the fascination of what he +firmly believed was a guilty temptation. Rushbrook, perceiving his +hesitation, added:-- + +"By the way, Somers is of the party, and one or two others you +know." + +Mr. Leyton opened his eyes widely at this; either the temptation +had passed, or the idea of being seen in doubtful company by a +younger man was distasteful, for he hurriedly disclaimed any +preference. "But," he added with half-significant politeness, +"perhaps I'm keeping YOU from them?" + +"It makes not the slightest difference to me," calmly returned +Rushbrook, with such evident truthfulness that Leyton was both +convinced and chagrined. + +Preceded by the grave and ubiquitous James, they crossed the large +hall, and entered through a smaller passage a charming apartment +hung with blue damask, which might have been a boudoir, study, or +small reception-room, yet had the air of never having been anything +continuously. It would seem that Rushbrook's habit of "camping +out" in different parts of his mansion obtained here as at Los +Osos, and with the exception of a small closet which contained his +Spartan bed, the rooms were used separately or in suites, as +occasion or his friends required. It is recorded that an Eastern +guest, newly arrived with letters to Rushbrook, after a tedious +journey, expressed himself pleased with this same blue room, in +which he had sumptuously dined with his host, and subsequently fell +asleep in his chair. Without disturbing his guest, Rushbrook had +the table removed, a bed, washstand, and bureau brought in, the +sleeping man delicately laid upon the former, and left to awaken to +an Arabian night's realization of his wish. + + +CHAPTER V + + +James had barely disposed of his master and Mr. Leyton, and left +them to the ministrations of two of his underlings, before he was +confronted with one of those difficult problems that it was part of +his functions to solve. The porter informed him that a young lady +had just driven up in a carriage ostensibly to see Mr. Rushbrook, +and James, descending to the outer vestibule, found himself face to +face with Miss Grace Nevil. Happily, that young lady, with her +usual tact, spared him some embarrassment. + +"Oh! James," she said sweetly, "do you think that I could see Mr. +Rushbrook for a few moments IF I WAITED FOR THE OPPORTUNITY? You +understand, I don't wish to disturb him or his company by being +regularly announced." + +The young girl's practical intelligence appeared to increase the +usual respect which James had always shown her. "I understand, +miss." He thought for a moment, and said: "Would you mind, then, +following me where you could wait quietly and alone?" As she +quickly assented, he preceded her up the staircase, past the study +and drawing-room, which he did not enter, and stopped before a +small door at the end of the passage. Then, handing her a key +which he took from his pocket, he said: "This is the only room in +the house that is strictly reserved for Mr. Rushbrook, and even he +rarely uses it. You can wait here without anybody knowing it until +I can communicate with him and bring you to his study unobserved. +And," he hesitated, "if you wouldn't mind locking the door when you +are in, miss, you would be more secure, and I will knock when I +come for you." + +Grace Nevil smiled at the man's prudence, and entered the room. +But to her great surprise, she had scarcely shut the door when she +was instantly struck with a singular memory which the apartment +recalled. It was exactly like the room she had altered in +Rushbrook's villa at Los Osos! More than that, on close +examination it proved to be the very same furniture, arranged as +she remembered to have arranged it, even to the flowers and +grasses, now, alas! faded and withered on the walls. There could +be no mistake. There was the open ebony escritoire with the satin +blotter open, and its leaves still bearing the marks of her own +handwriting. So complete to her mind was the idea of her own +tenancy in this bachelor's mansion, that she looked around with a +half indignant alarm for the photograph or portrait of herself that +might further indicate it. But there was no other exposition. The +only thing that had been added was a gilt legend on the satin case +of the blotter,--"Los Osos, August 20, 186-," the day she had +occupied the room. + +She was pleased, astonished, but more than all, disturbed. The +only man who might claim a right to this figurative possession +of her tastes and habits was the one whom she had quietly, +reflectively, and understandingly half accepted as her lover, and +on whose account she had come to consult Rushbrook. But Somers was +not a sentimentalist; in fact, as a young girl, forced by her +independent position to somewhat critically scrutinize masculine +weaknesses, this had always been a point in his favor; yet even if +he had joined with his friend Rushbrook to perpetuate the memory of +their first acquaintanceship, his taste merely would not have +selected a chambre de garcon in Mr. Rushbrook's home for its +exhibition. Her conception of the opposite characters of the two +men was singularly distinct and real, and this momentary confusion +of them was disagreeable to her woman's sense. But at this moment +James came to release her and conduct her to Rushbrook's study, +where he would join her at once. Everything had been arranged as +she had wished. + +Even a more practical man than Rushbrook might have lingered over +the picture of the tall, graceful figure of Miss Nevil, quietly +enthroned in a large armchair by the fire, her scarlet, satin-lined +cloak thrown over its back, and her chin resting on her hand. But +the millionaire walked directly towards her with his usual +frankness of conscious but restrained power, and she felt, as she +always did, perfectly at her ease in his presence. Even as she +took his outstretched hand, its straightforward grasp seemed to +endow her with its own confidence. + +"You'll excuse my coming here so abruptly," she smiled, "but I +wanted to get before Mr. Leyton, who, I believe, wishes to see you +on the same business as myself." + +"He is here already, and dining with me," said Rushbrook. + +"Ah! does he know I am here?" asked the girl, quietly. + +"No; as he said you had thought of coming with him and didn't, I +presumed you didn't care to have him know you had come alone." + +"Not exactly that, Mr. Rushbrook," she said, fixing her beautiful +eyes on him in bright and trustful confidence, "but I happen to +have a fuller knowledge of this business than he has, and yet, as +it is not altogether my own secret, I was not permitted to divulge +it to him. Nor would I tell it to you, only I cannot bear that you +should think that I had anything to do with this wretched +inquisition into Mr. Somers's prospects. Knowing as well as you do +how perfectly independent I am, you would think it strange, +wouldn't you? But you would think it still more surprising when +you found out that I and my uncle already know how liberally and +generously you had provided for Mr. Somers in the future." + +"How I had provided for Mr. Somers in the future?" repeated Mr. +Rushbrook, looking at the fire, "eh?" + +"Yes," said the young girl, indifferently, "how you were to put him +in to succeed you in the Water Front Trust, and all that. He told +it to me and my uncle at the outset of our acquaintance, +confidentially, of course, and I dare say with an honorable +delicacy that was like him, but--I suppose now you will think me +foolish--all the while I'd rather he had not." + +"You'd rather he had not," repeated Mr. Rushbrook, slowly. + +"Yes," continued Grace, leaning forward with her rounded elbows on +her knees, and her slim, arched feet on the fender. "Now you are +going to laugh at me, Mr. Rushbrook, but all this seemed to me to +spoil any spontaneous feeling I might have towards him, and limit +my independence in a thing that should be a matter of free will +alone. It seemed too much like a business proposition! There, my +kind friend!" she added, looking up and trying to read his face +with a half girlish pout, followed, however, by a maturer sigh, +"I'm bothering you with a woman's foolishness instead of talking +business. And"--another sigh--"I suppose it IS business for my +uncle, who has, it seems, bought into this Trust on these possible +contingencies, has, perhaps, been asking questions of Mr. Leyton. +But I don't want you to think that I approve of them, or advise +your answering them. But you are not listening." + +"I had forgotten something," said Rushbrook, with an odd +preoccupation. "Excuse me a moment--I will return at once." + +He left the room quite as abstractedly, and when he reached the +passage, he apparently could not remember what he had forgotten, as +he walked deliberately to the end window, where, with his arms +folded behind his back, he remained looking out into the street. A +passer-by, glancing up, might have said he had seen the pale, stern +ghost of Mr. Rushbrook, framed like a stony portrait in the window. +But he presently turned away, and re-entered the room, going up to +Grace, who was still sitting by the fire, in his usual strong and +direct fashion. + +"Well! Now let me see what you want. I think this would do." + +He took a seat at his open desk, and rapidly wrote a few lines. + +"There," he continued, "when you write to your uncle, inclose +that." + +Grace took it, and read:-- + + +DEAR MISS NEVIL,--Pray assure your uncle from me that I am quite +ready to guarantee, in any form that he may require, the +undertaking represented to him by Mr. John Somers. Yours very +truly, + +ROBERT RUSHBROOK. + + +A quick flush mounted to the young girl's cheeks. "But this is a +SECURITY, Mr. Rushbrook," she said proudly, handing him back the +paper, "and my uncle does not require that. Nor shall I insult him +or you by sending it." + +"It is BUSINESS, Miss Nevil," said Rushbrook, gravely. He stopped, +and fixed his eyes upon her animated face and sparkling eyes. "You +can send it to him or not, as you like. But"--a rare smile came to +his handsome mouth--"as this is a letter to YOU, you must not +insult ME by not accepting it." + +Replying to his smile rather than the words that accompanied it, +Miss Nevil smiled, too. Nevertheless, she was uneasy and +disturbed. The interview, whatever she might have vaguely expected +from it, had resolved itself simply into a business indorsement of +her lover, which she had not sought, and which gave her no +satisfaction. Yet there was the same potent and indefinably +protecting presence before her which she had sought, but whose +omniscience and whose help she seemed to have lost the spell and +courage to put to the test. He relieved her in his abrupt but not +unkindly fashion. "Well, when is it to be?" + +"It?" + +"Your marriage." + +"Oh, not for some time. There's no hurry." + +It might have struck the practical Mr. Rushbrook that, even +considered as a desirable business affair, the prospective +completion of this contract provoked neither frank satisfaction nor +conventional dissimulation on the part of the young lady, for he +regarded her calm but slightly wearied expression fixedly. But he +only said: "Then I shall say nothing of this interview to Mr. +Leyton?" + +"As you please. It really matters little. Indeed, I suppose I was +rather foolish in coming at all, and wasting your valuable time for +nothing." + +She had risen, as if taking his last question in the significance +of a parting suggestion, and was straightening her tall figure, +preparatory to putting on her cloak. As she reached it, he stepped +forward, and lifted it from the chair to assist her. The act was +so unprecedented, as Mr. Rushbrook never indulged in those minor +masculine courtesies, that she was momentarily as confused as a +younger girl at the gallantry of a younger man. In their previous +friendship he had seldom drawn near her except to shake her hand-- +a circumstance that had always recurred to her when his free and +familiar life had been the subject of gossip. But she now had a +more frightened consciousness that her nerves were strangely +responding to his powerful propinquity, and she involuntarily +contracted her pretty shoulders as he gently laid the cloak upon +them. Yet even when the act was completed, she had a superstitious +instinct that the significance of this rare courtesy was that it +was final, and that he had helped her to interpose something that +shut him out from her forever. + +She was turning away with a heightened color, when the sound of +light, hurried footsteps, and the rustle of a woman's dress was +heard in the hall. A swift recollection of her companion's +infelicitous reputation now returned to her, and Grace Nevil, with +a slight stiffening of her whole frame, became coldly herself +again. Mr. Rushbrook betrayed neither surprise nor agitation. +Begging her to wait a moment until he could arrange for her to pass +to her carriage unnoticed, he left the room. + +Yet it seemed that the cause of the disturbance was unsuspected by +Mr. Rushbrook. Mr. Leyton, although left to the consolation of +cigars and liquors in the blue room, had become slightly weary of +his companion's prolonged absence. Satisfied in his mind that +Rushbrook had joined the gayer party, and that he was even now +paying gallant court to the Signora, he became again curious and +uneasy. At last the unmistakable sound of whispering voices in the +passage got the better of his sense of courtesy as a guest, and he +rose from his seat, and slightly opened the door. As he did so the +figures of a man and woman, conversing in earnest whispers, passed +the opening. The man's arm was round the woman's waist; the woman +was--as he had suspected--the one who had stood in the doorway, the +Signora--but--the man was NOT Rushbrook. Mr. Leyton drew back this +time in unaffected horror. It was none other than Jack Somers! + +Some warning instinct must at that moment have struck the woman, +for with a stifled cry she disengaged herself from Somers's arm, +and dashed rapidly down the hall. Somers, evidently unaware of the +cause, stood irresolute for a moment, and then more silently but +swiftly disappeared into a side corridor as if to intercept her. +It was the rapid passage of the Signora that had attracted the +attention of Grace and Rushbrook in the study, and it was the +moment after it that Mr. Rushbrook left. + + +CHAPTER VI + + +Vaguely uneasy, and still perplexed with her previous agitation, as +Mr. Rushbrook closed the door behind him, Grace, following some +feminine instinct rather than any definite reason, walked to the +door and placed her hand upon the lock to prevent any intrusion +until he returned. Her caution seemed to be justified a moment +later, for a heavier but stealthier footstep halted outside. The +handle of the door was turned, but she resisted it with the fullest +strength of her small hand until a voice, which startled her, +called in a hurried whisper:-- + +"Open quick, 'tis I." + +She stepped back quickly, flung the door open, and beheld Somers on +the threshold! + +The astonishment, agitation, and above all, the awkward confusion +of this usually self-possessed and ready man, was so unlike him, +and withal so painful, that Grace hurried to put an end to it, and +for an instant forgot her own surprise at seeing him. She smiled +assuringly, and extended her hand. + +"Grace--Miss Nevil--I beg your pardon--I didn't imagine"--he began +with a forced laugh. "I mean, of course--I cannot--but"-- He +stopped, and then assuming a peculiar expression, said: "But what +are YOU doing here?" + +At any other moment the girl would have resented the tone, which +was as new to her as his previous agitation, but in her present +self-consciousness her situation seemed to require some +explanation. "I came here," she said, "to see Mr. Rushbrook on +business. Your business--OUR business," she added, with a charming +smile, using for the first time the pronoun that seemed to indicate +their unity and interest, and yet fully aware of a vague +insincerity in doing so. + +"Our BUSINESS?" he repeated, ignoring her gentler meaning with a +changed emphasis and a look of suspicion. + +"Yes," said Grace, a little impatiently. "Mr. Leyton thought he +ought to write to my uncle something positive as to your prospects +with Mr. Rushbrook, and"-- + +"You came here to inquire?" said the young man, sharply. + +"I came here to stop any inquiry," said Grace, indignantly. "I +came here to say I was satisfied with what you had confided to me +of Mr. Rushbrook's generosity, and that was enough!" + +"With what I had confided to you? You dared say that?" + +Grace stopped, and instantly faced him. But any indignation she +might have felt at his speech and manner was swallowed up in the +revulsion and horror that overtook her with the sudden revelation +she saw in his white and frightened face. Leyton's strange +inquiry, Rushbrook's cold composure and scornful acceptance of her +own credulousness, came to her in a flash of shameful intelligence. +Somers had lied! The insufferable meanness of it! A lie, whose +very uselessness and ignobility had defeated its purpose--a lie +that implied the basest suspicion of her own independence and +truthfulness--such a lie now stood out as plainly before her as his +guilty face. + +"Forgive my speaking so rudely," he said with a forced smile and +attempt to recover his self-control, "but you have ruined me unless +you deny that I told you anything. It was a joke--an extravagance +that I had forgotten; at least, it was a confidence between you and +me that you have foolishly violated. Say that you misunderstood +me--that it was a fancy of your own. Say anything--he trusts you-- +he'll believe anything you say." + +"He HAS believed me," said Grace, almost fiercely, turning upon him +with the paper that Rushbrook had given her in her outstretched +hand. "Read that!" + +He read it. Had he blushed, had he stammered, had he even kept up +his former frantic and pitiable attitude, she might at that supreme +moment have forgiven him. But to her astonishment his face +changed, his handsome brow cleared, his careless, happy smile +returned, his graceful confidence came back--he stood before her +the elegant, courtly, and accomplished gentleman she had known. He +returned her the paper, and advancing with extended hand, said +triumphantly:-- + +"Superb! Splendid! No one but a woman could think of that! And +only one woman achieve it. You have tricked the great Rushbrook. +You are indeed worthy of being a financier's wife!" + +"No," she said passionately, tearing up the paper and throwing it +at his feet; "not as YOU understand it--and never YOURS! You have +debased and polluted everything connected with it, as you would +have debased and polluted ME. Out of my presence that you are +insulting--out of the room of the man whose magnanimity you cannot +understand!" + +The destruction of the guarantee apparently stung him more than the +words that accompanied it. He did not relapse again into his +former shamefaced terror, but as a malignant glitter came into his +eyes, he regained his coolness. + +"It may not be so difficult for others to understand, Miss Nevil," +he said, with polished insolence, "and as Bob Rushbrook's +generosity to pretty women is already a matter of suspicion, +perhaps you are wise to destroy that record of it." + +"Coward!" said Grace, "stand aside and let me pass!" She swept by +him to the door. But it opened upon Rushbrook's re-entrance. He +stood for an instant glancing at the pair, and then on the +fragments of the paper that strewed the floor. Then, still holding +the door in his hand, he said quietly:-- + +"One moment before you go, Miss Nevil. If this is the result of +any misunderstanding as to the presence of another woman here, in +company with Mr. Somers, it is only fair to him to say that that +woman is here as a friend of MINE, not of his, and I alone am +responsible." + +Grace halted, and turned the cold steel of her proud eyes on the +two men. As they rested on Rushbrook they quivered slightly. "I +can already bear witness," she said coldly, "to the generosity of +Mr. Rushbrook in a matter which then touched me. But there +certainly is no necessity for him to show it now in a matter in +which I have not the slightest concern." + +As she swept out of the room and was received in the respectable +shadow of the waiting James, Rushbrook turned to Somers. + +"And I'M afraid it won't do--for Leyton saw you," he said curtly. +"Now, then, shut that door, for you and I, Jack Somers, have a word +to say to each other." + +What that word was, and how it was said and received, is not a part +of this record. But it is told that it was the beginning of that +mighty Iliad, still remembered of men, which shook the financial +camps of San Francisco, and divided them into bitter contending +parties. For when it became known the next day that Somers had +suddenly abandoned Rushbrook, and carried over to a powerful +foreign capitalist the secret methods, and even, it was believed, +the LUCK of his late employer, it was certain that there would be +war to the knife, and that it was no longer a struggle of rival +enterprise, but of vindictive men. + + +CHAPTER VII + + +For a year the battle between the Somers faction and the giant but +solitary Rushbrook raged fiercely, with varying success. I grieve +to say that the proteges and parasites of Maecenas deserted him in +a body; nay, they openly alleged that it was the true artistic +nature and refinement of Somers that had always attracted them, and +that a man like Rushbrook, who bought pictures by the yard,-- +equally of the unknown struggling artist and the famous masters,-- +was no true patron of Art. Rushbrook made no attempt to recover +his lost prestige, and once, when squeezed into a tight "corner," +and forced to realize on his treasures, he put them up at auction +and the people called them "daubs;" their rage knew no bounds. It +was then that an unfettered press discovered that Rushbrook never +was a Maecenas at all, grimly deprecated his assumption of that +title, and even doubted if he were truly a millionaire. It was at +this time that a few stood by him--notably, the mill inventor from +Siskyou, grown plethoric with success, but eventually ground +between the upper and nether millstone of the Somers and Rushbrook +party. Miss Nevil had returned to the Atlantic States with Mrs. +Leyton. While rumors had played freely with the relations of +Somers and the Signora as the possible cause of the rupture between +him and Rushbrook, no mention had ever been made of the name of +Miss Nevil. + +It was raining heavily one afternoon, when Mr. Rushbrook drove from +his office to his San Francisco house. The fierce struggle in +which he was engaged left him little time for hospitality, and for +the last two weeks his house had been comparatively deserted. He +passed through the empty rooms, changed in little except the +absence of some valuable monstrosities which had gone to replenish +his capital. When he reached his bedroom, he paused a moment at +the open door. + +"James!" + +"Yes, sir," said James, appearing out of the shadow. + +"What are you waiting for?" + +"I thought you might be wanting something, sir." + +"You were waiting there this morning; you were in the ante-room of +my study while I was writing. You were outside the blue room while +I sat at breakfast. You were at my elbow in the drawing-room late +last night. Now, James," continued Mr. Rushbrook, with his usual +grave directness, "I don't intend to commit suicide; I can't afford +it, so keep your time and your rest for yourself--you want it-- +that's a good fellow." + +"Yes, sir." + +"James!" + +"Yes, sir." + +Rushbrook extended his hand. There was that faint, rare smile on +his handsome mouth, for which James would at any time have laid +down his life. But he only silently grasped his master's hand, and +the two men remained looking into each other's eyes without a word. +Then Mr. Rushbrook entered his room, lay down, and went to sleep, +and James vanished in the shadow. + +At the end of an hour Mr. Rushbrook awoke refreshed, and even +James, who came to call him, appeared to have brightened in the +interval. "I have ordered a fire, sir, in the reserved room, the +one fitted up from Los Osos, as your study has had no chance of +being cleaned these two weeks. It will be a change for you, sir. +I hope you'll excuse my not waking you to consult you about it." + +Rushbrook remained so silent that James, fancying he had not heard +him, was about to repeat himself when his master said quickly, +"Very well, come for me there when dinner is ready," and entered +the passage leading to the room. James did not follow him, and +when Mr. Rushbrook, opening the door, started back with an +exclamation, no one but the inmate heard the word that rose to his +lips. + +For there, seated before the glow of the blazing fire, was Miss +Grace Nevil. She had evidently just arrived, for her mantle was +barely loosened around her neck, and upon the fringe of brown hair +between her bonnet and her broad, low forehead a few drops of rain +still sparkled. As she lifted her long lashes quickly towards the +door, it seemed as if they, too, had caught a little of that +moisture. Rushbrook moved impatiently forward, and then stopped. +Grace rose unhesitatingly to her feet, and met him half-way with +frankly outstretched hands. "First of all," she said, with a half +nervous laugh, "don't scold James; it's all my fault; I forbade him +to announce me, lest you should drive me away, for I heard that +during this excitement you came here for rest, and saw no one. +Even the intrusion into this room is all my own. I confess now +that I saw it the last night I was here; I was anxious to know if +it was unchanged, and made James bring me here. I did not +understand it then. I do now--and--thank you." + +Her face must have shown that she was conscious that he was still +holding her hand, for he suddenly released it. With a heightened +color and a half girlish naivete, that was the more charming for +its contrast with her tall figure and air of thoroughbred repose, +she turned back to her chair, and lightly motioned him to take the +one before her. "I am here on BUSINESS; otherwise I should not +have dared to look in upon you at all." + +She stopped, drew off her gloves with a provoking deliberation, +which was none the less fascinating that it implied a demure +consciousness of inducing some impatience in the breast of her +companion, stretched them out carefully by the fingers, laid them +down neatly on the table, placed her elbows on her knees, slightly +clasped her hands together, and bending forward, lifted her honest, +handsome eyes to the man before her. + +"Mr. Rushbrook, I have got between four and five hundred thousand +dollars that I have no use for; I can control securities which can +be converted, if necessary, into a hundred thousand more in ten +days. I am free and my own mistress. It is generally considered +that I know what I am about--you admitted as much when I was your +pupil. I have come here to place this sum in your hands, at your +free disposal. You know why and for what purpose." + +"But what do you know of my affairs?" asked Rushbrook, quickly. + +"Everything, and I know YOU, which is better. Call it an +investment if you like--for I know you will succeed--and let me +share your profits. Call it--if you please--restitution, for I am +the miserable cause of your rupture with that man. Or call it +revenge if you like," she said with a faint smile, "and let me +fight at your side against our common enemy! Please, Mr. +Rushbrook, don't deny me this. I have come three thousand miles +for it; I could have sent it to you--or written--but I feared you +would not understand it. You are smiling--you will take it?" + +"I cannot," said Rushbrook, gravely. + +"Then you force me to go into the Stock Market myself, and fight +for you, and, unaided by YOUR genius, perhaps lose it without +benefiting you." + +Rushbrook did not reply. + +"At least, then, tell me why you 'cannot.'" + +Rushbrook rose, and looking into her face, said quietly with his +old directness:-- + +"Because I love you, Miss Nevil." + +A sudden instinct to rise and move away, a greater one to remain +and hear him speak again, and a still greater one to keep back the +blood that she felt was returning all too quickly to her cheek +after the first shock, kept her silent. But she dropped her eyes. + +"I loved you ever since I first saw you at Los Osos," he went on +quickly; "I said to myself even then, that if there was a woman +that would fill my life, and make me what she wished me to be, it +was you. I even fancied that day that you understood me better +than any woman, or even any man, that I had ever met before. I +loved you through all that miserable business with that man, even +when my failure to make you happy with another brought me no nearer +to you. I have loved you always. I shall love you always. I love +you more for this foolish kindness that brings YOU beneath my roof +once more, and gives me a chance to speak my heart to you, if only +once and for the last time, than all the fortune that you could put +at my disposal. But I could not accept what you would offer me +from any woman who was not my wife--and I could not marry any woman +that did not love me. I am perhaps past the age when I could +inspire a young girl's affection; but I have not reached the age +when I would accept anything less." He stopped abruptly. Grace +did not look up. There was a tear glistening upon her long +eyelashes, albeit a faint smile played upon her lips. + +"Do you call this business, Mr. Rushbrook?" she said softly. + +"Business?" + +"To assume a proposal declined before it has been offered." + +"Grace--my darling--tell me--is it possible?" + +It was too late for her to rise now, as his hands held both hers, +and his handsome mouth was smiling level with her own. So it +really seemed to a dispassionate spectator that it WAS possible, +and before she had left the room, it even appeared to be the most +probable thing in the world. + + . . . . . . + +The union of Grace Nevil and Robert Rushbrook was recorded by local +history as the crown to his victory over the Ring. But only he and +his wife knew that it was the cause. + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg Etext A Sappho of Green Springs, by Bret Harte + diff --git a/old/asogs10.zip b/old/asogs10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f4e5b90 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/asogs10.zip |