But wont we incommode the lady of the house? said Mrs. Sol politely.
What lady of the house? said Rand almost angrily.
Why, Ruth, you know!
It was Rands turn to become hilarious. Ruth, he said, is short for Rutherford, my brother. His laugh, however, was echoed only by Euphemia.
Then you have a brother? said Mrs. Sol benignly.
Yes, said Rand: he will be here soon. A sudden thought dropped the color from his cheek. Look here, he said, turning impulsively upon Sol. I have a brother, a twin-brother. It couldnt be HIM
Sol was conscious of a significant feminine pressure on his right arm. He was equal to the emergency. I think not, he said dubiously, unless your brothers hair is much darker than yours. Yes! now I look at you, yours is brown. He has a mole on his right cheek hasnt he?
The red came quickly back to Rands boyish face. He laughed. No, sir: my brothers hair is, if any thing, a shade lighter than mine, and nary mole. Come along!
And leading the way, Rand disclosed the narrow steps winding down to the shelf on which the cabin hung. Be careful, said Rand, taking the now unresisting hand of the Marysville Pet as they descended: a step that way, and down you go two thousand feet on the top of a pine-tree.
But the girls slight cry of alarm was presently changed to one of unaffected pleasure as they stood on the rocky platform. It isnt a house: its a NEST, and the loveliest! said Euphemia breathlessly.
Its a scene, a perfect scene, sir! said Sol, enraptured. I shall take the liberty of bringing my scene-painter to sketch it some day. It would do for The Mountaineers Bride superbly, or, continued the little man, warming through the blue-black border of his face with professional enthusiasm, its enough to make a play itself. The Cot on the Crags. Last scenemoonlightthe struggle on the ledge! The Lady of the Crags throws herself from the beetling heights!A shriek from the depthsa womans wail!
Dry up! sharply interrupted Rand, to whom this speech recalled his brothers half-forgotten strangeness. Look at the prospect.
In the full noon of a cloudless day, beneath them a tumultuous sea of pines surged, heaved, rode in giant crests, stretched and lost itself in the ghostly, snow-peaked horizon. The thronging woods choked every defile, swept every crest, filled every valley with its dark-green tilting spears, and left only Table Mountain sunlit and bare. Here and there were profound olive depths, over which the gray hawk hung lazily, and into which blue jays dipped. A faint, dull yellowish streak marked an occasional watercourse; a deeper reddish ribbon, the mountain road and its overhanging murky cloud of dust.
Is it quite safe here? asked Mrs. Sol, eying the little cabin. I mean from storms?
It never blows up here, replied Rand, and nothing happens.
It must be lovely, said Euphemia, clasping her hands.
It IS that, said Rand proudly. Its four years since Ruth and I took up this yer claim, and raised this shanty. In that four years we havent left it alone a night, or cared to. Its only big enough for two, and them two must be brothers. It wouldnt do for mere pardners to live here alone,they couldnt do it. It wouldnt be exactly the thing for man and wife to shut themselves up here alone. But Ruth and me know each others ways, and here well stay until weve made a pile. We sometimesone of ustakes a pasear to the Ferry to buy provisions; but were glad to crawl up to the back of old Table at night.
Youre quite out of the world here, then? suggested Mrs. Sol.
Thats it, just it! Were out of the world,out of rows, out of liquor, out of cards, out of bad company, out of temptation. Cussedness and foolishness hez got to follow us up here to find us, and theres too many ready to climb down to them things to tempt em to come up to us.
There was a little boyish conceit in his tone, as he stood there, not altogether unbecoming his fresh color and simplicity. Yet, when his eyes met those of Miss Euphemia, he colored, he hardly knew why, and the young lady herself blushed rosily.
When the neat cabin, with its decorated walls, and squirrel and wild-cat skins, was duly admired, the luncheon-basket of the Saunders party was re-enforced by provisions from Rands larder, and spread upon the ledge; the dimensions of the cabin not admitting four. Under the potent influence of a bottle, Sol became hilarious and professional. The Pet was induced to favor the company with a recitation, and, under the plea of teaching Rand, to perform the clog-dance with both gentlemen. Then there was an interval, in which Rand and Euphemia wandered a little way down the mountain-side to gather laurel, leaving Mr. Sol to his siesta on a rock, and Mrs. Sol to take some knitting from the basket, and sit beside him.
When Rand and his companion had disappeared, Mrs. Sol nudged her sleeping partner. Do you think that WAS the brother?
Sol yawned. Sure of it. Theyre as like as two peas, in looks.
Why didnt you tell him so, then?
Will you tell me, my dear, why you stopped me when I began?
Because something was said about Ruth being here; and I supposed Ruth was a woman, and perhaps Pinkneys wife, and knew youd be putting your foot in it by talking of that other woman. I supposed it was for fear of that he denied knowing you.
Well, when HEthis Randtold me he had a twin-brother, he looked so frightened that I knew he knew nothing of his brothers doings with that woman, and I threw him off the scent. Hes a good fellow, but awfully green, and I didnt want to worry him with tales. I like him, and I think Phemie does too.
Nonsense! Hes a conceited prig! Did you hear his sermon on the world and its temptations? I wonder if he thought temptation had come up to him in the person of us professionals out on a picnic. I think it was positively rude.
My dear woman, youre always seeing slights and insults. I tell you hes taken a shine to Phemie; and hes as good as four seats and a bouquet to that child next Wednesday evening, to say nothing of the eclat of getting this St. Simeonwhat do you call him?Stalactites?
Stylites, suggested Mrs. Sol.
Stylites, off from his pillar here. Ill have a paragraph in the paper, that the hermit crabs of Table Mountain
Dont be a fool, Sol!
The hermit twins of Table Mountain bespoke the chaste performance.
One of them being the protector of the well-known Mornie Nixon, responded Mrs. Sol, viciously accenting the name with her knitting-needles.
Rosy, youre unjust. Youre prejudiced by the reports of the town. Mr. Pinkneys interest in her may be a purely artistic one, although mistaken. Shell never make a good variety-actress: shes too heavy. And the boys dont give her a fair show. No woman can make a debut in my version of Somnambula, and have the front row in the pit say to her in the sleepwalking scene, Youre out rather late, Mornie. Kinder forgot to put on your things, didnt you? Mother sick, I suppose, and youre goin for more gin? Hurry along, or youll ketch it when ye get home. Why, you couldnt do it yourself, Rosy!
To which Mrs. Sols illogical climax was, that, bad as Rutherford might be, this Sunday-school superintendent, Rand, was worse.
Rand and his companion returned late, but in high spirits. There was an unnecessary effusiveness in the way in which Euphemia kissed Mrs. Sol,the one woman present, who UNDERSTOOD, and was to be propitiated,which did not tend to increase Mrs. Sols good humor. She had her basket packed all ready for departure; and even the earnest solicitation of Rand, that they would defer their going until sunset, produced no effect.
Rand and his companion returned late, but in high spirits. There was an unnecessary effusiveness in the way in which Euphemia kissed Mrs. Sol,the one woman present, who UNDERSTOOD, and was to be propitiated,which did not tend to increase Mrs. Sols good humor. She had her basket packed all ready for departure; and even the earnest solicitation of Rand, that they would defer their going until sunset, produced no effect.
Mr. RandMr. Pinkney, I meansays the sunsets here are so lovely, pleaded Euphemia.
There is a rehearsal at seven oclock, and we have no time to lose, said Mrs. Sol significantly.
I forgot to say, said the Marysville Pet timidly, glancing at Mrs. Sol, that Mr. Rand says he will bring his brother on Wednesday night, and wants four seats in front, so as not to be crowded.
Sol shook the young mans hand warmly. Youll not regret it, sir: its a surprising, a remarkable performance.
Id like to go a piece down the mountain with you, said Rand, with evident sincerity, looking at Miss Euphemia; but Ruth isnt here yet, and we make a rule never to leave the place alone. Ill show you the slide: its the quickest way to go down. If you meet any one who looks like me, and talks like me, call him Ruth, and tell him Im waitin for him yer.
Miss Phemia, the last to go, standing on the verge of the declivity, here remarked, with a dangerous smile, that, if she met any one who bore that resemblance, she might be tempted to keep him with her,a playfulness that brought the ready color to Rands cheek. When she added to this the greater audacity of kissing her hand to him, the young hermit actually turned away in sheer embarrassment. When he looked around again, she was gone, and for the first time in his experience the mountain seemed barren and lonely.
The too sympathetic reader who would rashly deduce from this any newly awakened sentiment in the virgin heart of Rand would quite misapprehend that peculiar young man. That singular mixture of boyish inexperience and mature doubt and disbelief, which was partly the result of his temperament, and partly of his cloistered life on the mountain, made him regard his late companions, now that they were gone, and his intimacy with them, with remorseful distrust. The mountain was barren and lonely, because it was no longer HIS. It had become a part of the great world, which four years ago he and his brother had put aside, and in which, as two self-devoted men, they walked alone. More than that, he believed he had acquired some understanding of the temptations that assailed his brother, and the poor little vanities of the Marysville Pet were transformed into the blandishments of a Circe. Rand, who would have succumbed to a wicked, superior woman, believed he was a saint in withstanding the foolish weakness of a simple one.
He did not resume his work that day. He paced the mountain, anxiously awaiting his brothers return, and eager to relate his experiences. He would go with him to the dramatic entertainment; from his example and wisdom, Ruth should learn how easily temptation might be overcome. But, first of all, there should be the fullest exchange of confidences and explanations. The old rule should be rescinded for once, the old discussion in regard to Mornie re-opened, and Rand, having convinced his brother of error, would generously extend his forgiveness.
The sun sank redly. Lingering long upon the ledge before their cabin, it at last slipped away almost imperceptibly, leaving Rand still wrapped in revery. Darkness, the smoke of distant fires in the woods, and the faint evening incense of the pines, crept slowly up; but Ruth came not. The moon rose, a silver gleam on the farther ridge; and Rand, becoming uneasy at his brothers prolonged absence, resolved to break another custom, and leave the summit, to seek him on the trail. He buckled on his revolvers, seized his gun, when a cry from the depths arrested him. He leaned over the ledge, and listened. Again the cry arose, and this time more distinctly. He held his breath: the blood settled around his heart in superstitious terror. It was the wailing voice of a woman.
Ruth, Ruth! for Gods sake come and help me!
The blood flew back hotly to Rands cheek. It was Mornies voice. By leaning over the ledge, he could distinguish something moving along the almost precipitous face of the cliff, where an abandoned trail, long since broken off and disrupted by the fall of a portion of the ledge, stopped abruptly a hundred feet below him. Rand knew the trail, a dangerous one always: in its present condition a single mis-step would be fatal. Would she make that mis-step? He shook off a horrible temptation that seemed to be sealing his lips, and paralyzing his limbs, and almost screamed to her, Drop on your face, hang on to the chaparral, and dont move!
In another instant, with a coil of rope around his arm, he was dashing down the almost perpendicular slide. When he had nearly reached the level of the abandoned trail, he fastened one end of the rope to a jutting splinter of granite, and began to lay out, and work his way laterally along the face of the mountain. Presently he struck the regular trail at the point from which the woman must have diverged.
It is Rand, she said, without lifting her head.
It is, replied Rand coldly. Pass the rope under your arms, and Ill get you back to the trail.
Where is Ruth? she demanded again, without moving. She was trembling, but with excitement rather than fear.
I dont know, returned Rand impatiently. Come! the ledge is already crumbling beneath our feet.
Let it crumble! said the woman passionately.
Rand surveyed her with profound disgust, then passed the rope around her waist, and half lifted, half swung her from her feet. In a few moments she began to mechanically help herself, and permitted him to guide her to a place of safety. That reached, she sank down again.
The rising moon shone full upon her face and figure. Through his growing indignation Rand was still impressed and even startled with the change the few last months had wrought upon her. In place of the silly, fanciful, half-hysterical hoyden whom he had known, a matured woman, strong in passionate self-will, fascinating in a kind of wild, savage beauty, looked up at him as if to read his very soul.
What are you staring at? she said finally. Why dont you help me on?
Where do you want to go? said Rand quietly.
Where! Up there!she pointed savagely to the top of the mountain,to HIM! Where else should I go? she said, with a bitter laugh.
Ive told you he wasnt there, said Rand roughly. He hasnt returned.
Ill wait for himdo you hear?wait for him; stay there till he comes. If you wont help me, Ill go alone.
She made a step forward but faltered, staggered, and was obliged to lean against the mountain for support. Stains of travel were on her dress; lines of fatigue and pain, and traces of burning passionate tears, were on her face; her black hair flowed from beneath her gaudy bonnet; and, shamed out of his brutality, Rand placed his strong arm round her waist, and half carrying, half supporting her, began the ascent. Her head dropped wearily on his shoulder; her arm encircled his neck; her hair, as if caressingly, lay across his breast and hands; her grateful eyes were close to his; her breath was upon his cheek: and yet his only consciousness was of the possibly ludicrous figure he might present to his brother, should he meet him with Mornie Nixon in his arms. Not a word was spoken by either till they reached the summit. Relieved at finding his brother still absent, he turned not unkindly toward the helpless figure on his arm. I dont see what makes Ruth so late, he said. Hes always here by sundown. Perhaps