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 /2867-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '2867-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 2867-h/2867-h.htm | 7496 |
1 files changed, 7496 insertions, 0 deletions
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> |