Meanwhile the rain fell steadily and the shadows crept higher and higher up the mountain. Towards midnight the star points faded out one by one over Sawyers Ledge even as they had come, with the difference that the illumination of Falloners cabin was extinguished first, while the dim light of Lashams increased in number. Later, two stars seemed to shoot from the centre of the ledge, trailing along the descent, until they were lost in the obscurity of the slopethe lights of the stage-coach to Sacramento carrying the mail and Robert Falloner. They met and passed two fainter lights toiling up the roadthe buggy lights of the doctor, hastily summoned from Carterville to the bedside of the dying Dick Lasham.
The slowing up of his train caused Bob Falloner to start from a half doze in a Western Pullman car. As he glanced from his window he could see that the blinding snowstorm which had followed him for the past six hours had at last hopelessly blocked the line. There was no prospect beyond the interminable snowy level, the whirling flakes, and the monotonous palisades of leafless trees seen through it to the distant banks of the Missouri. It was a prospect that the mountain-bred Falloner was beginning to loathe, and although it was scarcely six weeks since he left California, he was already looking back regretfully to the deep slopes and the free song of the serried ranks of pines.
The intense cold had chilled his temperate blood, even as the rigors and conventions of Eastern life had checked his sincerity and spontaneous flow of animal spirits begotten in the frank intercourse and brotherhood of camps. He had just fled from the artificialities of the great Atlantic cities to seek out some Western farming lands in which he might put his capital and energies. The unlooked-for interruption of his progress by a long-forgotten climate only deepened his discontent. And nowthat train was actually backing! It appeared they must return to the last station to wait for a snow-plough to clear the line. It was, explained the conductor, barely a mile from Shepherdstown, where there was a good hotel and a chance of breaking the journey for the night.
Shepherdstown! The name touched some dim chord in Bob Falloners memory and conscienceyet one that was vague. Then he suddenly remembered that before leaving New York he had received a letter from Houston informing him of Lashams death, reminding him of his previous bounty, and begging himif he went Westto break the news to the Lasham family. There was also some allusion to a joke about his (Bobs) photograph, which he had dismissed as unimportant, and even now could not remember clearly. For a few moments his conscience pricked him that he should have forgotten it all, but now he could make amends by this providential delay. It was not a task to his liking; in any other circumstances he would have written, but he would not shirk it now.
Shepherdstown was on the main line of the Kansas Pacific Road, and as he alighted at its station, the big through trains from San Francisco swept out of the stormy distance and stopped also. He remembered, as he mingled with the passengers, hearing a childish voice ask if this was the Californian train. He remembered hearing the amused and patient reply of the station-master: Yes, sonnyhere she is again, and heres her passengers, as he got into the omnibus and drove to the hotel. Here he resolved to perform his disagreeable duty as quickly as possible, and on his way to his room stopped for a moment at the office to ask for Ricketts address. The clerk, after a quick glance of curiosity at his new guest, gave it to him readily, with a somewhat familiar smile. It struck Falloner also as being odd that he had not been asked to write his name on the hotel register, but this was a saving of time he was not disposed to question, as he had already determined to make his visit to Ricketts at once, before dinner. It was still early evening.
He was washing his hands in his bedroom when there came a light tap at his sitting-room door. Falloner quickly resumed his coat and entered the sitting-room as the porter ushered in a young lady holding a small boy by the hand. But, to Falloners utter consternation, no sooner had the door closed on the servant than the boy, with a half-apologetic glance at the young lady, uttered a childish cry, broke from her, and calling, Dick! Dick! ran forward and leaped into Falloners arms.
The mere shock of the onset and his own amazement left Bob without breath for words. The boy, with arms convulsively clasping his body, was imprinting kisses on Bobs waistcoat in default of reaching his face. At last Falloner managed gently but firmly to free himself, and turned a half-appealing, half-embarrassed look upon the young lady, whose own face, however, suddenly flushed pink. To add to the confusion, the boy, in some reaction of instinct, suddenly ran back to her, frantically clutched at her skirts, and tried to bury his head in their folds.
He dont love me, he sobbed. He dont care for me any more.
The face of the young girl changed. It was a pretty face in its flushing; in the paleness and thoughtfulness that overcast it it was a striking face, and Bobs attention was for a moment distracted from the grotesqueness of the situation. Leaning over the boy she said in a caressing yet authoritative voice, Run away for a moment, dear, until I call you, opening the door for him in a maternal way so inconsistent with the youthfulness of her figure that it struck him even in his confusion. There was something also in her dress and carriage that equally affected him: her garments were somewhat old-fashioned in style, yet of good material, with an odd incongruity to the climate and season.
Under her rough outer cloak she wore a polka jacket and the thinnest of summer blouses; and her hat, though dark, was of rough straw, plainly trimmed. Nevertheless, these peculiarities were carried off with an air of breeding and self-possession that was unmistakable. It was possible that her cool self-possession might have been due to some instinctive antagonism, for as she came a step forward with coldly and clearly-opened gray eyes, he was vaguely conscious that she didnt like him. Nevertheless, her manner was formally polite, even, as he fancied, to the point of irony, as she began, in a voice that occasionally dropped into the lazy Southern intonation, and a speech that easily slipped at times into Southern dialect:
I sent the child out of the room, as I could see that his advances were annoying to you, and a good deal, I reckon, because I knew your reception of them was still more painful to him. It is quite natural, I dare say, you should feel as you do, and I reckon consistent with your attitude towards him. But you must make some allowance for the depth of his feelings, and how he has looked forward to this meeting. When I tell you that ever since he received your last letter, he and his sisteruntil her illness kept her homehave gone every day when the Pacific train was due to the station to meet you; that they have taken literally as Gospel truth every word of your letter
My letter? interrupted Falloner.
The young girls scarlet lip curled slightly. I beg your pardonI should have said the letter you dictated. Of course it wasnt in your handwritingyou had hurt your hand, you know, she added ironically. At all events, they believed it allthat you were coming at any moment; they lived in that belief, and the poor things went to the station with your photograph in their hands so that they might be the first to recognize and greet you.
With my photograph? interrupted Falloner again.
The young girls clear eyes darkened ominously. I reckon, she said deliberately, as she slowly drew from her pocket the photograph Daddy Folsom had sent, that that is your photograph. It certainly seems an excellent likeness, she added, regarding him with a slight suggestion of contemptuous triumph.
With my photograph? interrupted Falloner again.
The young girls clear eyes darkened ominously. I reckon, she said deliberately, as she slowly drew from her pocket the photograph Daddy Folsom had sent, that that is your photograph. It certainly seems an excellent likeness, she added, regarding him with a slight suggestion of contemptuous triumph.
In an instant the revelation of the whole mystery flashed upon him! The forgotten passage in Houstons letter about the stolen photograph stood clearly before him; the coincidence of his appearance in Shepherdstown, and the natural mistake of the children and their fair protector, were made perfectly plain. But with this relief and the certainty that he could confound her with an explanation came a certain mischievous desire to prolong the situation and increase his triumph. She certainly had not shown him any favor.
Have you got the letter also? he asked quietly.
She whisked it impatiently from her pocket and handed it to him. As he read Daddys characteristic extravagance and recognized the familiar idiosyncrasies of his old companions, he was unable to restrain a smile. He raised his eyes, to meet with surprise the fair strangers leveled eyebrows and brightly indignant eyes, in which, however, the rain was fast gathering with the lightning.
It may be amusing to you, and I reckon likely it was all a California joke, she said with slightly trembling lips; I dont know Nothern gentlemen and their ways, and you seem to have forgotten our ways as you have your kindred. Perhaps all this may seem so funny to them: it may not seem funny to that boy who is now crying his heart out in the hall; it may not be very amusing to that poor Cissy in her sick-bed longing to see her brother. It may be so far from amusing to her, that I should hesitate to bring you there in her excited condition and subject her to the pain that you have caused him. But I have promised her; she is already expecting us, and the disappointment may be dangerous, and I can only implore youfor a few moments at leastto show a little more affection than you feel. As he made an impulsive, deprecating gesture, yet without changing his look of restrained amusement, she stopped him hopelessly. Oh, of course, yes, yes, I know it is years since you have seen them; they have no right to expect more; onlyonlyfeeling as you do, she burst impulsively, whyoh, why did you come?
Here was Bobs chance. He turned to her politely; began gravely, I simply came towhen suddenly his face changed; he stopped as if struck by a blow. His cheek flushed, and then paled! Good God! What had he come for? To tell them that this brother they were longing forliving forperhaps even dying forwas dead! In his crass stupidity, his wounded vanity over the scorn of the young girl, his anticipation of triumph, he had forgottentotally forgottenwhat that triumph meant! Perhaps if he had felt more keenly the death of Lasham the thought of it would have been uppermost in his mind; but Lasham was not his partner or associate, only a brother miner, and his single act of generosity was in the ordinary routine of camp life. If she could think him cold and heartless before, what would she think of him now? The absurdity of her mistake had vanished in the grim tragedy he had seemed to have cruelly prepared for her. The thought struck him so keenly that he stammered, faltered, and sank helplessly into a chair.
The shock that he had received was so plain to her that her own indignation went out in the breath of it. Her lip quivered. Dont you mind, she said hurriedly, dropping into her Southern speech; I didnt go to hurt you, but I was just that mad with the thought of those pickaninnies, and the easy way you took it, that I clean forgot Id no call to catechise you! And you dont know me from the Queen of Sheba. Well, she went on, still more rapidly, and in odd distinction to her previous formal slow Southern delivery, Im the daughter of Colonel Boutelle, of Bayou Sara, Louisiana; and his paw, and his paw before him, had a plantation there since the time of Adam, but he lost it and six hundred niggers during the Wah! We were pooh as pohvertypaw and maw and we four girlsand no more idea of work than a baby. But I had an education at the convent at New Orleans, and could play, and speak French, and I got a place as school-teacher here; I reckon the first Southern woman that has taught school in the Noth! Ricketts, who used to be our steward at Bayou Sara, told me about the pickaninnies, and how helpless they were, with only a brother who occasionally sent them money from California. I suppose I cottoned to the pooh little things at first because I knew what it was to be alone amongst strangers, Mr. Lasham; I used to teach them at odd times, and look after them, and go with them to the train to look for you. Perhaps Ricketts made me think you didnt care for them; perhaps I was wrong in thinking it was true, from the way you met Jimmy just now. But Ive spoken my mind and you know why. She ceased and walked to the window.
Falloner rose. The storm that had swept through him was over. The quick determination, resolute purpose, and infinite patience which had made him what he was were all there, and with it a conscientiousness which his selfish independence had hitherto kept dormant. He accepted the situation, not passivelyit was not in his naturebut threw himself into it with all his energy.
You were quite right, he said, halting a moment beside her; I dont blame you, and let me hope that later you may think me less to blame than you do now. Now, whats to be done? Clearly, Ive first to make it right with TommyI mean Jimmyand then we must make a straight dash over to the girl! Whoop! Before she could understand from his face the strange change in his voice, he had dashed out of the room. In a moment he reappeared with the boy struggling in his arms. Think of the little scamp not knowing his own brother! he laughed, giving the boy a really affectionate, if slightly exaggerated hug, and expecting me to open my arms to the first little boy who jumps into them! Ive a great mind not to give him the present I fetched all the way from California. Wait a moment. He dashed into the bedroom, opened his valisewhere he providentially remembered he had kept, with a miners superstition, the first little nugget of gold he had ever foundseized the tiny bit of quartz of gold, and dashed out again to display it before Jimmys eager eyes.
If the heartiness, sympathy, and charming kindness of the mans whole manner and face convinced, even while it slightly startled, the young girl, it was still more effective with the boy. Children are quick to detect the false ring of affected emotion, and Bobs was so genuinewhatever its causethat it might have easily passed for a fraternal expression with harder critics. The child trustfully nestled against him and would have grasped the gold, but the young man whisked it into his pocket. Not until weve shown it to our little sisterwhere were going now! Im off to order a sleigh. He dashed out again to the office as if he found some relief in action, or, as it seemed to Miss Boutelle, to avoid embarrassing conversation. When he came back again he was carrying an immense bearskin from his luggage. He cast a critical look at the girls unseasonable attire.
I shall wrap you and Jimmy in thisyou know its snowing frightfully.
Miss Boutelle flushed a little. Im warm enough when walking, she said coldly. Bob glanced at her smart little French shoes, and thought otherwise. He said nothing, but hastily bundled his two guests downstairs and into the street. The whirlwind dance of the snow made the sleigh an indistinct bulk in the glittering darkness, and as the young girl for an instant stood dazedly still, Bob incontinently lifted her from her feet, deposited her in the vehicle, dropped Jimmy in her lap, and wrapped them both tightly in the bearskin. Her weight, which was scarcely more than a childs, struck him in that moment as being tantalizingly incongruous to the matronly severity of her manner and its strange effect upon him. He then jumped in himself, taking the direction from his companion, and drove off through the storm.