CHAPTER IX.
IN WHICH MR. HAMLIN PASSES.
With his lips sealed by the positive mandate of the lovely spectre, Mr.Hamlin resigned himself again to weakness and sleep. When he awoke, Ollywas sitting by his bedside; the dusky figure of Pete, spectacled andreading a good book, was dimly outlined against the window--but that wasall. The vision--if vision it was--had fled.
"Olly," said Mr. Hamlin, faintly.
"Yes!" said Olly, opening her eyes in expectant sympathy.
"How long have I been dr--I mean how long has this--spell lasted?"
"Three days," said Olly.
"The ---- you say!" (A humane and possibly weak consideration for Mr.Hamlin in his new weakness and suffering restricts me to a mere outlineof his extravagance of speech.)
"But you're better now," supplemented Olly.
Mr. Hamlin began to wonder faintly if his painful experience of the lasttwenty-four hours were a part of his convalsecence. He was silent for afew moments and then suddenly turned his face toward Olly.
"Didn't you say something about--about--your sister, the other day?"
"Yes--she's got back," said Olly, curtly.
"Here?"
"Here."
"Well?" said Mr. Hamlin, a little impatiently.
"Well," returned Olly, with a slight toss of her curls, "she's got backand I reckon it's about time she did."
Strange to say, Olly's evident lack of appreciation of her sister seemedto please Mr. Hamlin--possibly because it agreed with his own idea ofGrace's superiority and his inability to recognise or accept her as thesister of Gabriel.
"Where has she been all this while?" asked Jack, rolling his largehollow eyes over Olly.
"Goodness knows! Says she's bin livin' in some fammerly down in theSouth--Spanish, I reckon; thet's whar she gits those airs and graces."
"Has she ever been here--in this room?" asked Mr. Hamlin.
"Of course she has," said Olly. "When I left you to go with Gabe to seehis wife at Wingdam, she volunteered to take my place. Thet waz whileyou waz flighty, Mr. Hamlin. But I reckon she admired to stay here onaccount of seein' her bo!"
"Her what?" asked Mr. Hamlin, feeling the blood fast rushing to hiscolourless face.
"Her bo," repeated Olly, "thet thar Ashley, or Poinsett--or whatever hecalls hisself now!"
Mr. Hamlin here looked so singular, and his hand tightened so stronglyaround Olly's, that she hurriedly repeated to him the story of Grace'searly wanderings, and her absorbing passion for their former associate,Arthur Poinsett. The statement was, in Olly's present state of mind,not favourable to Grace. "And she just came up yer only to see Arthuragin. Thet's all. And she nearly swearin' her brother's life away--andpretendin' it was only done to save the fammerly name. Jest ez if it hedbeen any more comfortable fur Gabriel to have been hung in his own name.And then goin' and accusin' thet innocent ole lamb, Gabe, of conspiringwith July to take her name away. Purty goin's on, I reckon. And thet manPoinsett, by her own showin'--never lettin' on to see her nor us--noranybody. And she sassin' _me_ for givin' my opinion of him--and excusin'him by sayin' she didn't want him to know _whar_ she was. And sherefusin' to see July at all--and pore July lyin' thar at Wingdam, sickwith a new baby. Don't talk to me about her!"
"But your sister didn't run away with--with--this chap. She went away tobring you help," interrupted Jack, hastily dragging Olly back to earlierhistory.
"Did she? Couldn't she trust her bo to go and get help and then comeback fur her?--reckonin' he cared for her at all. No, she waz thet crazyafter him she couldn't trust him outer her sight--and she left the campand Gabe and ME for him. And then the idee of _her_ talking to Gabrielabout bein' disgraced by July. Ez ef she had never done anythin' tospile her own name, and puttin' on such airs and"----
"Dry up!" shouted Mr. Hamlin, turning with sudden savageness upon hispillow. "Dry up!--don't you see you're driving me half-crazy with yourinfernal buzzing?" He paused, as Olly stopped in mingled mortificationand alarm, and then added in milder tones, "There, that'll do. I am notfeeling well to-day. Send Dr. Duchesne to me if he's here. Stop onemoment--there! good-bye, go!"
Olly had risen promptly. There was always something in Mr. Hamlin'spositive tones that commanded an obedience that she would have refusedto any other. Thoroughly convinced of some important change in Mr.Hamlin's symptoms, she sought the doctor at once. Perhaps she broughtwith her some of her alarm and anxiety, for a moment later thatdistinguished physician entered with less deliberation than was hishabit. He walked to the bedside of his patient, and would have taken hishand, but Jack slipped his tell-tale pulse under the covers, and lookingfixedly at the doctor, said--
"Can I be moved from here?"
"You can, but I should hardly advise"----
"I didn't ask that. This is a lone hand I'm playin', doctor, and if I'meuchred, tain't your fault. How soon?"
"I should say," said Dr. Duchesne, with professional caution, "that ifno bad symptoms supervene" (he made here a half habitual but whollyineffectual dive for Jack's pulse), "you might go in a week."
"I must go _now_!"
Dr. Duchesne bent over his patient. He was a quick as well as apatiently observing man, and he saw something in Jack's face that no oneelse had detected. Seeing this he said, "You can go now, at a greatrisk--the risk of your life."
"I'll take it!" said Mr. Hamlin, promptly. "I've been playin' aginodds," he added, with a faint but audacious smile, "for the last sixmonths, and it's no time to draw out now. Go on, tell Pete to pack upand get me ready."
"Where are you going?" asked the doctor, quietly, still gazing at hispatient.
"To!--blank!" said Mr. Hamlin, impulsively. Then recognising the factthat in view of his having travelling companions, some more definite andpracticable locality was necessary, he paused a moment, and said, "Tothe Mission of San Antonio."
"Very well," said the doctor, gravely.
Strange to say, whether from the doctor's medication, or from thestimulus of some reserved vitality hitherto unsuspected, Mr. Hamlin fromthat moment rallied. The preparations for his departure were quicklymade, and in a few hours he was ready for the road.
"I don't want to have anybody cacklin' around me," he said, indeprecation of any leave-taking. "I leave the board, they can go on withthe game."
Notwithstanding which, at the last moment, Gabriel hung awkwardly andheavily around the carriage in which the invalid was seated.
"I'd foller arter ye, Mr. Hamlin, in a buggy," he interpolated, ingentle deprecation of his unwieldy and difficult bulk, "but I'm sorterkept yer with my wife--who is powerful weak along of a pore smallbaby--about so long--the same not bein' a fammerly man yourself, youdon't kinder get the hang of. I thought it might please ye to know thatI got bail yesterday for thet Mr. Perkins--ez didn't kill that tharRamirez--the same havin' killed hisself--ez waz fetched out on thetrial, which I reckon ye didn't get to hear. I admire to see ye lookin'so well, Mr. Hamlin, and I'm glad Olly's goin' with ye. I reckon Gracewould hev gone too, but she's sorter skary about strangers, hevin' binengaged these seving years to a young man by the name o' Poinsett ez wazone o' my counsel, and hevin' lately had a row with the same--one o'them lovers' fights--which bein' a young man yourself, ye kin kindlyallow for."
"Drive on!" imprecated Mr. Hamlin furiously to the driver; "what are youwaiting for?" and with the whirling wheels Gabriel dropped offapologetically in a cloud of dust, and Mr. Hamlin sack back exhaustedlyon the cushions.
Notwithstanding, as he increased his distance from One Horse Gulch, hisspirits seemed to rise, and by the time they had reached San Antonio hehad recovered his old audacity and dash of manner, and raised thehighest hopes in the breast of everybody but--his doctor. Yet thatgentleman, after a careful examination of his patient one night, saidprivately to Pete, "I think this exaltation will last about three dayslonger. I am going to San Francisco. At the end of that time I shallreturn--unless you telegraph to me before that." He parted gaily fromhis patient, and seriously from
everybody else. Before he left he soughtout Padre Felipe. "I have a patient here, in a critical condition," saidthe doctor; "the hotel is no place for him. Is there any familyhere--any house that will receive him under your advice for a week? Atthe end of that time he will be better, or beyond _our_ ministration. Heis not a Protestant--he is nothing. You have had experience with theheathen, Father Felipe."
Father Felipe looked at Dr. Duchesne. The doctor's well-earnedprofessional fame had penetrated even San Antonio; the doctor's insightand intelligence were visible in his manner, and touched the Jesuitinstantly. "It is a strange case, my son; a sad case," he said,thoughtfully. "I will see."
He did. The next day, under the direction of Father Felipe, Mr. Hamlinwas removed to the Rancho of the Blessed Fisherman, and notwithstandingthe fact that its hostess was absent, was fairly installed as its guest.When Mrs. Sepulvida returned from her visit to San Francisco, she was atfirst astonished, then excited, and then, I fear, gratified.
For she at once recognised in this guest of Father Felipe the mysteriousstranger whom she had, some weeks ago, detected on the plains of theBlessed Trinity. And Jack, despite his illness, was still handsome, andhad, moreover, the melancholy graces of invalidism, which go far with anhabitually ailing sex. And so she coddled Mr. Hamlin, and gave him hersacred hammock by day over the porch, and her best bedroom at night. Andthen, at the close of a pleasant day, she said, archly--
"I think I have seen you before, Mr. Hamlin--at the Rancho of theBlessed Trinity. You remember--the house of Donna Dolores?"
Mr. Hamlin was too observant of the sex to be impertinently mindful ofanother woman than his interlocutor, and assented with easyindifference.
Donna Maria (now thoroughly convinced that Mr. Hamlin's attentions onthat eventful occasion were intended for herself, and even delightfullysuspicious of some pre-arranged plan in his present situation): "PoorDonna Dolores! You know we have lost her for ever."
Mr. Hamlin asked, "When?"
"That dreadful earthquake on the 8th."
Mr. Hamlin, reflecting that the appearance of Grace Conroy was on the10th, assented again abstractly.
"Ah, yes! so sad! And yet, perhaps, for the best. You know the poor girlhad a hopeless passion for her legal adviser--the famous ArthurPoinsett! Ah! you did not? Well, perhaps it was only merciful that shedied before she knew how insincere that man's attentions were. You are abeliever in special Providences, Mr. Hamlin?"
Mr. Hamlin (doubtfully): "You mean a run of luck?"
Donna Maria (rapidly, ignoring Mr. Hamlin's illustration): "Well,perhaps _I_ have reason to say so. Poor Donna Dolores was my friend.Yet, would you believe there were people--you know how ridiculous is thegossip of a town like this--there are people who believed that he waspaying attention to ME!"
Mrs. Sepulvida hung her head archly. There was a long pause. Then Mr.Hamlin called faintly--
"Pete!"
"Yes, Mars Jack."
"Ain't it time to take that medicine?"
When Dr. Duchesne returned he ignored all this little byplay, and eventhe anxious inquiries of Olly, and said to Mr. Hamlin--
"Have you any objection to my sending for Dr. Mackintosh--a devilishclever fellow?"
And Mr. Hamlin had none. And so, after a private telegram, Dr.Mackintosh arrived, and for three or four hours the two doctors talkedin an apparently unintelligible language, chiefly about a person whomMr. Hamlin was satisfied did not exist. And when Dr. Mackintosh left,Dr. Duchesne, after a very earnest conversation with him on their way tothe stage office, drew a chair beside Mr. Hamlin's bed.
"Jack!"
"Yes, sir."
"Have you got everything fixed--all right?"
"Yes, sir."
"Jack!"
"Yes, sir."
"You've made Pete very happy this morning."
Jack looked up at Dr. Duchesne's critical face, and the doctor went ongravely--
"Confessing religion to him--saying you believed as he did!"
A faint laugh glimmered in the dark hollows of Jack's eyes.
"The old man," he said, explanatory, "has been preachin' mighty heavyat me ever since t'other doctor came, and I reckoned it might please himto allow that everything he said was so. You see the old man's bin rightsoft on me, and between us, doctor, I ain't much to give him inexchange. It's no square game!"
"Then you believe you're going to die?" said the doctor, gravely.
"I reckon."
"And you have no directions to give me?"
"There's a black hound at Sacramento--Jim Briggs, who borrowed and nevergave back my silver-mounted Derringers, that I reckoned to give to you!Tell him he'd better give them up or I'll"----
"Jack," interrupted Dr. Duchesne, with infinite gentleness, laying hishand on the invalid's arm, "you must not think of me."
Jack pressed his friend's hand.
"There's my diamond pin up the spout at Wingdam, and the money gone toLawyer Maxwell to pay witnesses for that old fool Gabriel. And then whenGabriel and me was escaping I happened to strike the very man, Perkins,who was Gabriel's principal witness, and he was dead broke, and I had togive him my solitaire ring to help him get away and be on hand forGabriel. And Olly's got my gold specimen to be made into a mug for thatcub of that old she tiger--Gabriel's woman--that Madame Devarges. And mywatch--who _has_ got my watch?" said Mr. Hamlin, reflectively.
"Never mind those things, Jack. Have you any word to send--to--anybody?"
"No."
There was a long pause. In the stillness the ticking of a clock on themantel became audible. Then there was a laugh in the ante-room, where aprofessional brother of Jack's had been waiting, slightly under theinfluence of grief and liquor.
"Scotty ought to know better than to kick up a row in a decent woman'shouse," whispered Jack, faintly. "Tell him to dry up, or I'll"----
But his voice was failing him, and the sentence remained incomplete.
"Doc----" (after a long effort).
"Jack."
"Don't--let--on--to Pete--I fooled--him."
"No, Jack."
They were both still for several minutes. And then Dr. Duchesne softlyreleased his hand and laid that of his patient, white and thin, upon thecoverlid before him. Then he rose gently and opened the door of theante-room. Two or three eager faces confronted him. "Pete," he said,gravely, "I want Pete--no one else."
The old negro entered with a trembling step. And then catching sight ofthe white face on the pillow, he uttered one cry--a cry replete with allthe hysterical pathos of his race, and ran and dropped on his kneesbeside--it! And then the black and the white face were near together,and both were wet with tears.
Dr. Duchesne stepped forward and would have laid his hand gently uponthe old servant's shoulder. But he stopped, for suddenly both of theblack hands were lifted wildly in the air, and the black face with rapteyeballs turned toward the ceiling, as if they had caught sight of thesteadfast blue beyond. Perhaps they had.
"O de Lord God! whose prechiss blood washes de brack sheep and de whitesheep all de one colour! O de Lamb ob God! Sabe, sabe dis por', dis por'boy. O Lord God, for MY sake. O de Lord God, dow knowst fo' twenty yearsPete, ole Pete, has walked in dy ways--has found de Lord and Himcrucified!--and has been dy servant. O de Lord God--O de bressed Lord,ef it's all de same to you, let all dat go fo' nowt. Let ole Pete go!and send down dy mercy and forgiveness fo' _him_!"