Gabriel Conroy

  CHAPTER IV.

  MR. DUMPHY HAS NEWS OF A DOMESTIC CHARACTER.

  "An earthquake!" echoed Mr. Rollingstone, cheerfully, to his guests;"now you've had about everything we have to show. Don't be alarmed,madam," he continued to Mrs. Raynor, who was beginning to show symptomsof hysteria, "nobody ever was hurt by 'em."

  "In two hundred years there hasn't been as many persons killed byearthquakes in California as are struck by lightning on your coast in asingle summer," said Mr. Dumphy.

  "Never have 'em any stronger than this," said Mr. Pilcher, with acomforting suggestion on there being an absolute limitation of Nature'sfreaks on the Pacific coast.

  "Over in a minute, as you see," said Mr. Dumphy, "and--hello! what'sthat?"

  In a moment they were on their feet, pale and breathless again. Thistime Mr. Raynor and his wife among the number. But it was only acarriage--driving away.

  "Let us adjourn to the piazza," said Mr. Dumphy, offering his arm toMrs. Raynor with the air of having risen solely for that purpose.

  Mr. Dumphy led the way, and the party followed with some celerity. Mrs.Sepulvida hung back a moment with Arthur, and whispered--

  "Take me back as soon as you can!"

  "You are not seriously alarmed?" asked Arthur.

  "We are too near the sea here," she replied, looking toward the oceanwith a slight shudder. "Don't ask questions now," she added, a littlesharply. "Don't you see these Eastern people are frightened to death,and they may overhear."

  But Mrs. Sepulvida had not long to wait, for in spite of the pointedasseverations of Messrs. Pilcher, Dyce, and Dumphy, that earthquakeswere not only harmless, but absolutely possessed a sanitary quality, thepiazzas were found deserted by the usual pleasure-seekers, and even theeloquent advocates themselves betrayed some impatience to be once moreon the open road.

  A brisk drive of an hour put the party again in the highest spirits, andMr. and Mrs. Raynor again into the condition of chronic admiration andenthusiasm.

  Mrs. Sepulvida and Mr. Poinsett followed in an open buggy behind. Whenthey were fairly upon their way, Arthur asked an explanation of his faircompanion's fear of the sea.

  "There is an old story," said Donna Maria, "that the Point of Pines--youknow where it is, Mr. Poinsett--was once covered by a great wave fromthe sea that followed an earthquake. But tell me, do you really thinkthat letter of this man Conroy is true?"

  "I do," said Arthur, promptly.

  "And that--there--is--a--prospect--that--the--stock of this big minemay--de--pre--ciate in value?"

  "Well--possibly--yes!"

  "And if you knew that I had been foolish enough to put a good deal ofmoney in it, you would still talk to me as you did the other day--downthere?"

  "I should say," responded Arthur, changing the reins to his left handthat his right might be free for some purpose--goodness knows what!--"Ishould say that I am more than ever convinced that you ought to havesome person to look after you."

  What followed this remarkable speech I really do not know how toreconcile with the statement that Mrs. Sepulvida made to the DonnaDolores a few chapters ago, and I therefore discreetly refrain fromtranscribing it here. Suffice it to say that the buggy did not come upwith the _char-[`a]-banc_ and the rest of the party until long after theyhad arrived at Mr. Dumphy's stately mansion on Rincon Hill, whereanother costly and elaborate collation was prepared. Mr. Dumphyevidently was in spirits, and had so far overcome his usual awe anddistrust of Arthur, as well as the slight jealousy he had experienced anhour or so before, as to approach that gentleman with a degree ofcheerful familiarity that astonished and amused the self-sustainedArthur--who perhaps at that time had more reason for his usual conceitthan before. Arthur, who knew, or thought he knew, that Miss Ringroundwas only coquetting with Mr. Dumphy for the laudable purpose of makingthe more ambitious of her sex miserable, and that she did not care forhis person or position, was a good deal amused at finding the young ladythe subject of Mr. Dumphy's sudden confidences.

  "You see, Poinsett, as a man of business I don't go as much into societyas you do, but she seems to be a straight up and down girl, eh?" hequeried, as they stood together in the vestibule after the ladies haddeparted. It is hardly necessary to say that Arthur was positive andsincere in his praise of the young woman. Mr. Dumphy by some obscuremental process, taking much of the praise to himself, was highly elatedand perhaps tempted to a greater vinous indulgence than was his habit.Howbeit the last bottle of champagne seemed to have obliterated all pastsuspicion of Arthur, and he shook him warmly by the hand. "I tell yewhat now, Poinsett, if there are any points I can give you don't you beafraid to ask for 'em. I can see what's up between you and thewidow--honour, you know--all right, my boy--she's in the Conroy lodepretty deep, but I'll help her out and you too! You've got a good thingthere--Poinsett--and I want you to realise. We understand each other,eh? You'll find me a square man with my friends, Poinsett. Pitchin--pitch in!--my advice to you is to just pitch in and marry the widow.She's worth it--you can realise on her. You see you and me's--so tospeak--ole pards, eh? You rek'leck ole times on Sweetwater, eh? Well--ifyou mus' go, goo'-bi! I s'pose she's waitin' for ye. Look you, Poinsy,d'ye see this yer posy in my buttonhole? She give it to me. Rosey did!eh? ha! ha! Won't tak' nothin' drink? Lesh open n'or bo'll. No? Goori!"until struggling between disgust, amusement, and self-depreciation,Arthur absolutely tore himself away from the great financier and hisdegrading confidences.

  When Mr. Dumphy staggered back into his drawing-room, a servant met himwith a card.

  "The gen'lman says it's very important business, and he must see youto-night," he said, hastily, anticipating the oath and indignant protestof his master. "He says it's your business, sir, and not his. He's beenwaiting here since you came back, sir."

  Mr. Dumphy took the card. It bore the inscription in pencil, "ColonelStarbottle, Siskiyou, on important business." Mr. Dumphy reflected amoment. The magical word "business" brought him to himself. "Show himin--in the office," he said savagely, and retired thither.

  Anybody less practical than Peter Dumphy would have dignified the large,showy room in which he entered as the library. The rich mahogany shelveswere filled with a heterogeneous collection of recent books, veryfresh, very new and glaring as to binding and subject; the walls werehung with files of newspapers and stock reports. There was avelvet-lined cabinet containing minerals--all of them gold or silverbearing. There was a map of an island that Mr. Dumphy owned--there was amarine view, with a representation of a steamship also owned by Mr.Dumphy. There was a momentary relief from these facts in a very gorgeousand badly painted picture of a tropical forest and sea-beach, untilinquiry revealed the circumstance that the sugar-house in the cornerunder a palm-tree was "run" by Mr. Dumphy, and that the whole thingcould be had for a bargain.

  The stranger who entered was large and somewhat inclined to a corpulencythat was, however, restrained in expansion by a blue frock coat, tightlybuttoned at the waist, which had the apparent effect of lifting hisstomach into the higher thoracic regions of moral emotion--a confusionto which its owner lent a certain intellectual assistance. The Colonel'scollar was very large, open and impressive; his black silk neckerchiefloosely tied around his throat, occupying considerable space over hisshirt front, and expanding through the upper part of a gilt-buttonedwhite waistcoat, lent itself to the general suggestion that the Colonelhad burst his sepals and would flower soon. Above this unfolding theColonel's face, purple, aquiline-nosed, throttle-looking as to the eye,and moist and sloppy-looking as to the mouth, up-tilted above hisshoulders. The Colonel entered with that tiptoeing celerity of stepaffected by men who are conscious of increasing corpulency. He carried acane hooked over his forearm; in one hand a large white handkerchief,and in the other a broad-brimmed hat. He thrust the former gracefully inhis breast, laid the latter on the desk where Mr. Dumphy was seated, andtaking an unoffered chair himself, coolly rested his elbow on his canein an attitude of easy expectancy.

  "Say you've got important busi
ness?" said Dumphy. "Hope it is, sir--hopeit is! Then out with it. Can't afford to waste time any more here thanat the Bank. Come! What is it?"

  Not in the least affected by Mr. Dumphy's manner, whose habitualbrusqueness was intensified to rudeness, Colonel Starbottle drew out hishandkerchief, blew his nose, carefully returned apparently only abouttwo inches of the cambric to his breast, leaving the rest displayed likea ruffled shirt, and began with an airy gesture of his fat white hand.

  "I was here two hours ago, sir, when you were at the--er--festive board.I said to the boy, 'Don't interrupt your master. A gentleman worshippingat the shrine of Venus and Bacchus and attended by the muses andimmortals, don't want to be interrupted.' Ged, sir, I knew a man inLouisiana--Hank Pinckney--shot his boy--a little yellow boy worth athousand dollars--for interrupting him at a poker party--and no ladiespresent! And the boy only coming in to say that the gin house was inflames. Perhaps you'll say an extreme case. Know a dozen such. So Isaid, 'Don't interrupt him, but when the ladies have risen, and Beauty,sir, no longer dazzles and--er--gleams, and the table round no longerechoes the--er--light jest, then spot him! And over the deserted board,with--er--social glass between us, your master and I will have ourlittle confab.'"

  He rose, and before the astonished Dumphy could interfere, crossed overto a table where a decanter of whisky and a carafe of water stood, andfilling a glass half-full of liquor, reseated himself and turned it offwith an easy yet dignified inclination towards his host.

  For once only Mr. Dumphy regretted the absence of dignity in his ownmanner. It was quite evident that his usual brusqueness was utterlyineffective here, and he quickly recognised in the Colonel therepresentative of a class of men well known in California, from whom anypositive rudeness would have provoked a demand for satisfaction. It wasnot a class of men that Mr. Dumphy had been in the habit of dealingwith, and he sat filled with impotent rage, but wise enough to restrainits verbal expression, and thankful that none of his late guests werepresent to witness his discomfiture. Only one good effect was due to hisvisitor. Mr. Dumphy through baffled indignation and shame had becomesober.

  "No, sir," continued Colonel Starbottle, setting his glass upon hisknee, and audibly smacking his large lips. "No, sir, I waited inthe--er--ante-chamber until I saw you part with your guests--until youbade--er--adieu to a certain fair nymph--Ged, sir, I like your taste,and I call myself a judge of fine women--'Blank it all,' I said tomyself, 'Blank it all, Star, you ain't goin' to pop out upon a man justas he's ministering to Beauty and putting a shawl upon a pair ofalabaster shoulders like that!' Ha! ha! Ged, sir, I remembered myselfthat in '43 in Washington at a party at Tom Benton's I was in just sucha position, sir. 'Are you never going to get that cloak on, Star?' shesays to me--the most beautiful creature, the acknowledged belle of thatwhole winter--'43, sir--as a gentleman yourself you'll understand why Idon't particularise--'If I had my way, madam,' I said, 'I never would!'I did, blank me. But you're not drinking, Mr. Dumphy, eh? A thimbleful,sir, to our better acquaintance."

  Not daring to trust himself to speak, Mr. Dumphy shook his head somewhatimpatiently, and Colonel Starbottle rose. As he did so it seemed as ifhis shoulders had suddenly become broader and his chest distended untilhis handkerchief and white waistcoat protruded through the breast ofhis buttoned coat like a bursting grain of "pop corn." He advancedslowly and with deliberate dignity to the side of Dumphy.

  "If I have intruded upon your privacy, Mr. Dumphy," he said, with astately wave of his white hand, "if, as I surmise, from yourdisinclination, sir, to call it by no other name, to exchange theordinary convivial courtesies common between gentlemen, sir,--you aredisposed to resent any reminiscences of mine as reflecting upon thecharacter of the young lady, sir, whom I had the pleasure to see in yourcompany--if such be the case, sir, Ged!--I am ready to retire now, sir,and to give you to-morrow, or at any time, the satisfaction which nogentleman ever refuses another, and which Culpepper Starbottle has neverbeen known to deny. My card, sir, you have already; my address, sir, isSt. Charles Hotel, where I and my friend, Mr. Dumphy, will be ready toreceive you."

  "Look here," said Mr. Dumphy, in surly but sincere alarm, "I don't drinkbecause I've been drinking. No offence, Mr. Starbottle. I was onlywaiting for you to open what you had on your mind in the way ofbusiness, to order up a bottle of _Cliquot_ to enable us to betterdigest it. Take your seat, Colonel. Bring champagne and two glasses." Herose, and under pretence of going to the sideboard, added in a lowertone to the servant who entered, "Stay within call, and in about tenminutes bring me some important message from the Bank--you hear? A glassof wine with you, Colonel. Happy to make your acquaintance! Here we go!"

  The Colonel uttered a slight cough as if to clear away his momentaryseverity, bowed with gracious dignity, touched the glass of his host,drew out his handkerchief, wiped his mouth, and seated himself oncemore.

  "If my object," he began, with a wave of dignified depreciation, "weresimply one of ordinary business, I should have sought you, sir, in thebusy mart, and not among your Lares and Penates, nor in the blazinglights of the festive hall. I should have sought you at that templewhich report and common rumour says that you, sir, as one of thefavoured sons of Fortune, have erected to her worship. In my intercoursewith the gifted John C. Calhoun I never sought him, sir, in thegladiatorial arena of the Senate, but rather with the social glass inthe privacy of his own domicile. Ged, sir, in my profession, werecognise some quality in our relations even when professional withgentlemen that keep us from approaching them like a Yankee pedlar withgoods to sell!"

  "What's your profession?" asked Mr. Dumphy.

  "Until elected by the citizens of Siskiyou to represent them in thelegislative councils I practised at the bar. Since then I have been openoccasionally to retainers in difficult and delicate cases. In thevarious intrigues that arise in politics, in the more complicatedrelations of the two sexes--in, I may say, the two great passions ofmankind, Ambition and Love, my services have, I believe, been consideredof value. It has been my office, sir, to help the steed of vaultingambition--er--er--over the fence, and to dry the--er--tearful yetglowing cheek of Beauty. But for the necessity of honour and secrecy inmy profession, sir, I could give you the names of some of the mostelegant women, and some of the first--the very first men in the land asthe clients of Culpepper Starbottle."

  "Very sorry," began Mr. Dumphy, "but if you're expecting to put me amongyour list of clients, I"----

  Without taking the least notice of Dumphy's half-returned sneer, ColonelStarbottle interrupted him coolly:

  "Ged, sir!--it's out of the question, I'm retained on the other side."

  The sneer instantly faded from Dumphy's face, and a look of genuinesurprise took its place.

  "What do you mean?" he said curtly.

  Colonel Starbottle drew his chair beside Dumphy, and leaning familiarlyover his desk took Mr. Dumphy's own penholder and persuasivelyemphasised the points of his speech upon Mr. Dumphy's arm with the bluntend. "Sir, when I say retained by the other side, it doesn't keep mefrom doing the honourable thing with the defendant--from recognising agentleman and trying to settle this matter as between gentlemen."

  "But what's all this about? Who is your plaintiff?" roared Dumphy,forgetting himself in his rage.

  "Ged, sir--it's a woman--of course. Don't think I'm accusing you of anypolitical ambition. Ha! ha! No, sir. You're like me! it's awoman--lovely woman--I saw it at a glance! Gentlemen like you and medon't go through to fifty years without giving some thought to thesedear little creatures. Sir, I despise a man who did. It's the weaknessof a great man, sir."

  Mr. Dumphy pushed his chair back with the grim deliberation of a man whohad at last measured the strength of his adversary and was satisfied torisk an encounter.

  "Look here, Colonel Starbottle, I don't know or care who your plaintiffis. I don't know or care how she may have been deceived or wronged ordisappointed or bamboozled, or what is the particular game that's upnow. But you're a man of the world, you say, and as a m
an of the worldand a man of sense, you know that no one in my position ever putshimself in any woman's power. I can't afford it! I don't pretend to bebetter than other men, but I ain't a fool. That's the differencebetween me and your clients!"

  "Yes--but, my boy, that _is_ the difference! Don't you see? In othercases the woman's a beautiful woman, a charming creature, you know. Ged,sometimes she's as proper and pious as a nun, but then the relations,you see, ain't legal! But hang it all, my boy, this is--YOUR WIFE!"

  Mr. Dumphy, with colourless cheeks, tried to laugh a reckless scornfullaugh. "My wife is dead!"

  "A mistake--Ged, sir!--a most miserable mistake. Understand me. I don'tsay that she hadn't ought to be! Ged, sir, from the look that thatlittle blue-eyed hussy gave you an hour ago--there ain't much use ofanother woman around, but the fact is that she _is_ living. You thoughtshe was dead, and left her up there in the snow. She goes so far as tosay--you know how these women talk, Dumphy; Ged, sir, they'll sayanything when they get down on a man--she says it ain't your fault ifshe wasn't dead! Eh? Sho?"

  "A message, sir, business of the Bank, very important," said Dumphy'sservant, opening the door.

  "Get out!" said Dumphy, with an oath.

  "But, sir, they told me, sir"----

  "Get out! will you?" roared Dumphy.

  The door closed on his astonished face. "It's all--a--mistake," saidDumphy, when he had gone. "They died of starvation--all of them--while Iwas away hunting help. I've read the accounts."

  Colonel Starbottle slowly drew from some vast moral elevation in hisbreast pocket a well-worn paper. It proved when open to be a faded,blackened, and be-thumbed document in Spanish. "Here is the report ofthe Commander of the Presidio who sent out the expedition. You readSpanish? Well. The bodies of all the other women were identified exceptyour wife's. Hang it, my boy, don't you see why she was excepted? Shewasn't there."

  The Colonel darted a fat forefinger at his host and then drew back, andsettled his purpled chin and wattled cheeks conclusively in his enormousshirt collar. Mr. Dumphy sank back in his chair at the contact as if thefinger of Fate had touched him.