But Mr. Hamlin presently found himself again on the highroad, and at his former pace. Ditches and banks of gravel, denuded hillsides, stumps, and decayed trunks of trees, took the place of woodland and ravine, and indicated his approach to civilization. Then a church steeple came in sight, and he knew that he had reached home. In a few moments he was clattering down the single narrow street that lost itself in a chaotic ruin of races, ditches, and tailings at the foot of the hill, and dismounted before the gilded windows of the Magnolia saloon. Passing through the long barroom, he pushed open a green-baize door, entered a dark passage, opened another door with a passkey, and found himself in a dimly lighted room whose furniture, though elegant and costly for the locality, showed signs of abuse. The inlaid center table was overlaid with stained disks that were not contemplated in the original design. The embroidered armchairs were discolored, and the green velvet lounge, on which Mr. Hamlin threw himself, was soiled at the foot with the red soil of Wingdam.
Mr. Hamlin did not sing in his cage. He lay still, looking at a highly colored painting above him representing a young creature of opulent charms. It occurred to him then, for the first time, that he had never seen exactly that kind of a woman, and that if he should, he would not, probably, fall in love with her. Perhaps he was thinking of another style of beauty. But just then someone knocked at the door. Without rising, he pulled a cord that apparently shot back a bolt, for the door swung open, and a man entered.
The newcomer was broad-shouldered and robusta vigor not borne out in the face, which, though handsome, was singularly weak, and disfigured by dissipation. He appeared to be also under the influence of liquor, for he started on seeing Mr. Hamlin, and said, I thought Kate was here, stammered, and seemed confused and embarrassed.
Mr. Hamlin smiled the smile which he had before worn on the Wingdam coach, and sat up, quite refreshed and ready for business.
You didnt come up on the stage, continued the newcomer, did you?
No, replied Hamlin; I left it at Scotts Ferry. It isnt due for half an hour yet. But hows luck, Brown?
Damn bad, said Brown, his face suddenly assuming an expression of weak despair; Im cleaned out again, Jack, he continued, in a whining tone that formed a pitiable contrast to his bulky figure, cant you help me with a hundred till tomorrows cleanup? You see Ive got to send money home to the old woman, andyouve won twenty times that amount from me.
The conclusion was, perhaps, not entirely logical, but Jack overlooked it, and handed the sum to his visitor. The old-woman business is about played out, Brown, he added, by way of commentary; why dont you say you want to buck agin faro? You know you aint married!
Fact, sir, said Brown, with a sudden gravity, as if the mere contact of the gold with the palm of the hand had imparted some dignity to his frame. Ive got a wifea damned good one, too, if I do say itin the States. Its three year since Ive seen her, and a year since Ive writ to her. When things is about straight, and we get down to the lead, Im going to send for her.
And Kate? queried Mr. Hamlin, with his previous smile.
Mr. Brown of Calaveras essayed an archness of glance, to cover his confusion, which his weak face and whisky-muddled intellect but poorly carried out, and said:
Damn it, Jack, a man must have a little liberty, you know. But come, what do you say to a little game? Give us a show to double this hundred.
Jack Hamlin looked curiously at his fatuous friend. Perhaps he knew that the man was predestined to lose the money, and preferred that it should flow back into his own coffers rather than any other. He nodded his head, and drew his chair toward the table. At the same moment there came a rap upon the door.
Its Kate, said Mr. Brown.
Mr. Hamlin shot back the bolt, and the door opened. But, for the first time in his life, he staggered to his feet, utterly unnerved and abashed, and for the first time in his life the hot blood crimsoned his colorless cheeks to his forehead. For before him stood the lady he had lifted from the Wingdam coach, whom Browndropping his cards with a hysterical laughgreeted as:
My old woman, by thunder!
They say that Mrs. Brown burst into tears, and reproaches of her husband. I saw her, in 1857, at Marysville, and disbelieve the story. And the WINGDAM CHRONICLE, of the next week, under the head of Touching Reunion, said: One of those beautiful and touching incidents, peculiar to California life, occurred last week in our city. The wife of one of Wingdams eminent pioneers, tired of the effete civilization of the East and its inhospitable climate, resolved to join her noble husband upon these golden shores. Without informing him of her intention, she undertook the long journey, and arrived last week. The joy of the husband may be easier imagined than described. The meeting is said to have been indescribably affecting. We trust her example may be followed.
Whether owing to Mrs. Browns influence, or to some more successful speculations, Mr. Browns financial fortune from that day steadily improved. He bought out his partners in the Nip and Tuck lead, with money which was said to have been won at poker, a week or two after his wifes arrival, but which rumor, adopting Mrs. Browns theory that Brown had forsworn the gaming-table, declared to have been furnished by Mr. Jack Hamlin. He built and furnished the Wingdam House, which pretty Mrs. Browns great popularity kept overflowing with guests. He was elected to the Assembly, and gave largess to churches. A street in Wingdam was named in his honor.
Yet it was noted that in proportion as he waxed wealthy and fortunate, he grew pale, thin, and anxious. As his wifes popularity increased, he became fretful and impatient. The most uxorious of husbands, he was absurdly jealous. If he did not interfere with his wifes social liberty, it was because it was maliciously whispered that his first and only attempt was met by an outburst from Mrs. Brown that terrified him into silence. Much of this kind of gossip came from those of her own sex whom she had supplanted in the chivalrous attentions of Wingdam, which, like most popular chivalry, was devoted to an admiration of power, whether of masculine force or feminine beauty. It should be remembered, too, in her extenuation that since her arrival, she had been the unconscious priestess of a mythological worship, perhaps not more ennobling to her womanhood than that which distinguished an older Greek democracy. I think that Brown was dimly conscious of this. But his only confidant was Jack Hamlin, whose INFELIX reputation naturally precluded any open intimacy with the family, and whose visits were infrequent.
It was midsummer, and a moonlit night; and Mrs. Brown, very rosy, large-eyed, and pretty, sat upon the piazza, enjoying the fresh incense of the mountain breeze, and, it is to be feared, another incense which was not so fresh, nor quite as innocent. Beside her sat Colonel Starbottle and Judge Boompointer, and a later addition to her court in the shape of a foreign tourist. She was in good spirits.
What do you see down the road? inquired the gallant Colonel, who had been conscious, for the last few minutes, that Mrs. Browns attention was diverted.
Dust, said Mrs. Brown, with a sigh. Only Sister Annes flock of sheep.
The Colonel, whose literary recollections did not extend farther back than last weeks paper, took a more practical view. It aint sheep, he continued; its a horseman. Judge, aint that Jack Hamlins gray?
It was midsummer, and a moonlit night; and Mrs. Brown, very rosy, large-eyed, and pretty, sat upon the piazza, enjoying the fresh incense of the mountain breeze, and, it is to be feared, another incense which was not so fresh, nor quite as innocent. Beside her sat Colonel Starbottle and Judge Boompointer, and a later addition to her court in the shape of a foreign tourist. She was in good spirits.
What do you see down the road? inquired the gallant Colonel, who had been conscious, for the last few minutes, that Mrs. Browns attention was diverted.
Dust, said Mrs. Brown, with a sigh. Only Sister Annes flock of sheep.
The Colonel, whose literary recollections did not extend farther back than last weeks paper, took a more practical view. It aint sheep, he continued; its a horseman. Judge, aint that Jack Hamlins gray?
But the Judge didnt know; and as Mrs. Brown suggested the air was growing too cold for further investigations, they retired to the parlor.
Mr. Brown was in the stable, where he generally retired after dinner. Perhaps it was to show his contempt for his wifes companions; perhaps, like other weak natures, he found pleasure in the exercise of absolute power over inferior animals. He had a certain gratification in the training of a chestnut mare, whom he could beat or caress as pleased him, which he couldnt do with Mrs. Brown. It was here that he recognized a certain gray horse which had just come in, and, looking a little farther on, found his rider. Browns greeting was cordial and hearty, Mr. Hamlins somewhat restrained. But at Browns urgent request, he followed him up the back stairs to a narrow corridor, and thence to a small room looking out upon the stable yard. It was plainly furnished with a bed, a table, a few chairs, and a rack for guns and whips.
This yers my home, Jack, said Brown, with a sigh, as he threw himself upon the bed, and motioned his companion to a chair. Her rooms tother end of the hall. Its moren six months since weve lived together, or met, except at meals. Its mighty rough papers on the head of the house, aint it? he said, with a forced laugh. But Im glad to see you, Jack, damn glad, and he reached from the bed, and again shook the unresponsive hand of Jack Hamlin.
I brought ye up here, for I didnt want to talk in the stable; though, for the matter of that, its all round town. Dont strike a light. We can talk here in the moonshine. Put up your feet on that winder, and sit here beside me. Thars whisky in that jug.
Mr. Hamlin did not avail himself of the information. Brown of Calaveras turned his face to the wall and continued:
If I didnt love the woman, Jack, I wouldnt mind. But its loving her, and seeing her, day arter day, goin on at this rate, and no one to put down the brake; thats what gits me! But Im glad to see ye, Jack, damn glad.
In the darkness he groped about until he had found and wrung his companions hand again. He would have detained it, but Jack slipped it into the buttoned breast of his coat, and asked, listlessly, How long has this been going on?
Ever since she came here; ever since the day she walked into the Magnolia. I was a fool then; Jack, Im a fool now; but I didnt know how much I loved her till then. And she hasnt been the same woman since.
But that aint all, Jack; and its what I wanted to see you about, and Im glad youve come. It aint that she doesnt love me any more; it aint that she fools with every chap that comes along, for, perhaps, I staked her love and lost it, as I did everything else at the Magnolia; and, perhaps, foolin is nateral to some women, and thar aint no great harm done, cept to the fools. But, Jack, I thinkI think she loves somebody else. Dont move, Jack; dont move; if your pistol hurts ye, take it off.
Its been moren six months now that shes seemed unhappy and lonesome, and kinder nervous and scared-like. And sometimes Ive ketched her lookin at me sort of timid and pitying. And she writes to somebody. And for the last week shes been gathering her own thingstrinkets, and furbelows, and jewlryand, Jack, I think shes goin off. I could stand all but that. To have her steal away like a thief He put his face downward to the pillow, and for a few moments there was no sound but the ticking of a clock on the mantel. Mr. Hamlin lit a cigar, and moved to the open window. The moon no longer shone into the room, and the bed and its occupant were in shadow. What shall I do, Jack? said the voice from the darkness.
The answer came promptly and clearly from the window-side: Spot the man, and kill him on sight.
But, Jack?
Hes took the risk!
But will that bring HER back?
Jack did not reply, but moved from the window toward the door.
Dont go yet, Jack; light the candle, and sit by the table. Its a comfort to see ye, if nothin else.
Jack hesitated, and then complied. He drew a pack of cards from his pocket and shuffled them, glancing at the bed. But Browns face was turned to the wall. When Mr. Hamlin had shuffled the cards, he cut them, and dealt one card on the opposite side of the table and toward the bed, and another on his side of the table for himself. The first was a deuce, his own card, a king. He then shuffled and cut again. This time dummy had a queen, and himself a four-spot. Jack brightened up for the third deal. It brought his adversary a deuce, and himself a king again. Two out of three, said Jack, audibly.
Whats that, Jack? said Brown.
Nothing.
Then Jack tried his hand with dice; but he always threw sixes, and his imaginary opponent aces. The force of habit is sometimes confusing.
Meanwhile, some magnetic influence in Mr. Hamlins presence, or the anodyne of liquor, or both, brought surcease of sorrow, and Brown slept. Mr. Hamlin moved his chair to the window, and looked out on the town of Wingdam, now sleeping peacefullyits harsh outlines softened and subdued, its glaring colors mellowed and sobered in the moonlight that flowed over all. In the hush he could hear the gurgling of water in the ditches, and the sighing of the pines beyond the hill. Then he looked up at the firmament, and as he did so a star shot across the twinkling field. Presently another, and then another. The phenomenon suggested to Mr. Hamlin a fresh augury. If in another fifteen minutes another star should fallHe sat there, watch in hand, for twice that time, but the phenomenon was not repeated.
The clock struck two, and Brown still slept. Mr. Hamlin approached the table and took from his pocket a letter, which he read by the flickering candlelight. It contained only a single line, written in pencil, in a womans hand:
Be at the corral, with the buggy, at three.
The sleeper moved uneasily, and then awoke. Are you there Jack?
Yes.
Dont go yet. I dreamed just now, Jackdreamed of old times. I thought that Sue and me was being married agin, and that the parson, Jack, waswho do you think?you!
The gambler laughed, and seated himself on the bedthe paper still in his hand.
Its a good sign, aint it? queried Brown.
I reckon. Say, old man, hadnt you better get up?
The old man, thus affectionately appealed to, rose, with the assistance of Hamlins outstretched hand.
Smoke?
Brown mechanically took the proffered cigar.
Light?
Jack had twisted the letter into a spiral, lit it, and held it for his companion. He continued to hold it until it was consumed, and dropped the fragmenta fiery starfrom the open window. He watched it as it fell, and then returned to his friend.