The Californians

  VII

  It was a part of her punishment that she was to be locked in her roomuntil Helena left for New York; but Helena visited her every night inher time-honoured fashion. Magdalena never told of the blows, butconfinement was a sufficient excuse to her restless friend for anyamount of depression; and Helena coaxed twenty dollars out of her fatherand bought books and bonbons for the prisoner, which she carefullydisposed about her person before making the ascent. Magdalena hid herpresents in a bureau drawer; and it is idle to deny that they comfortedher. One of the books was "Jane Eyre," and another Mrs. Gaskell's Lifeof Charlotte Bronte. They fired her with enthusiasm, and although shecried all night after the equally tearful Helena had said good-bye toher, she returned to them next day with undiminished enthusiasm.

  The Sunday after Helena's departure she was permitted to go to church.She was attended by her mother's maid, a French girl and a fervidCatholic. St. Mary's Cathedral, in which Don Roberto owned a pew that henever occupied, was at that time on the corner of California and Dupontstreets.

  Magdalena prayed devoutly, but only for the reestablishment of herself-respect, and the grace of oblivion for the degradation to which herfather had subjected her. Later, she intended to pray that he might beforgiven, both by herself and God, and that his heart should be softenedto the poor; but not yet. She must be herself again first.

  Her head had been aching for two days, the result of long confinementand too many bonbons. It throbbed so during service that she slippedout, whispering to the maid that she only wanted a breath of fresh airand would be back shortly.

  She stood for a few moments on the steps. Her head felt better, and shenoticed how peaceful the city looked; yet, as ever, with its suggestionof latent feverishness. She had heard Colonel Belmont say that there wasno other city in the world like it, and as she stood there and regardedthe precipitous heights with their odd assortment of flimsy "palaces"and dilapidated structures dating back to the Fifties, she felt thevague restlessness that brooded over everything, and understood what hehad meant; and she also knew that she understood as he had not. Abovewas the dazzling sky, not a fleck in its blue fire. There was not abreath of wind in the city. She had never known a more peaceful day. Andyet, if at any moment the earth had rocked beneath her feet, she wouldhave felt no surprise.

  She felt the necessity for exercise. It was now over a week since shehad been out of her room, and during that time she had not only studiedas usual, but read and read and read. She did not remember to have everfelt so nervous before. She could not go back into the Cathedral; it wasmusty in itself and crowded with the Great Unwashed. But it would not beright to disturb Julie. There could be no harm in the least bit of awalk alone, particularly as her father was in Menlo Park. She glancedabout her dubiously. Chinatown, which began a block to her right, wasout of the question, although she would have liked to see the women andthe funny little Chinese babies that she had heard of: the fortunateHelena had been escorted through Chinatown by her adoring parent and apoliceman. She did not care to climb twice the almost perpendicular hillwhich led to her home, and at the foot of the hill was the businessportion of the city. There was only one other way, and it looked quietand deserted and generally inviting.

  She crossed California Street and walked along Dupont Street. She saw toher surprise that the houses were small and mean; those the fire hadeaten had hardly been worse. They had green outside blinds and appearedto date from the discovery of gold at least.

  "There are poor people so near us," she thought. "Even Helena neverguessed it. I am glad the plate had not been handed round; I will givesome one my quarter."

  The houses were very quiet. The shutters were closed, but the slats wereopen. She glanced in, but saw no one.

  "Probably they are all in the Cathedral," she thought. "I am glad it isso close to them."

  She walked on, forgetting the houses for the minute, absorbed in her newappreciation of the strange suggestiveness of San Francisco. Again,something was shaping itself in her mind, demanding expression. She feltthat it would have the power to make her forget all that she did notwish to remember, and thought that perhaps this was the sponge for theslate the Virgin was sending in answer to her prayers.

  Suddenly, almost in her ear, she heard a low chuckle. She startedviolently; in all her life she had never heard anything so evil, soappalling, as that chuckle. It had come from the window at her left. Sheturned mechanically, her spirits sinking with nameless terror.

  Her expanded eyes fastened upon the open shutters. A woman sat behindthem; at least, she was cast in woman's mould. Her sticky black hair waspiled high in puffs,--an exaggeration of the mode of the day. Her thicklips were painted a violent red. Rouge and whitewash covered the rest ofher face. There was black paint beneath her eyes. She wore a dirty pinksilk dress cut shamefully low.

  The blood burned into Magdalena's cheeks. Of sin she had never heard.She had no name for the creature before her, but her woman's instinctwhispered that she was vile.

  The woman, who was regarding her malevolently, spoke. Magdalena did notunderstand the purport of her words, but she turned and fled whence shehad come. As she did so, the chuckle, multiplied a dozen-fold,surrounded her. She stopped for a second and cast a swift glance abouther, fascinated, with all her protesting horror.

  Behind every shutter which met her gaze was the duplicate of thecreature who had startled her first. As they saw her dismay, theirchuckle broke into a roar, then split into vocabulary. Magdalena ranfaster than she had ever run in her life before. Suddenly she sawColonel Belmont sauntering down California Street, debonair as ever. Hislong moustaches swept his shoulders. His soft hat was on the back of hishead, framing his bold handsome dissipated face. His frock-coat, but forthe lower button, was open, and stood out about the dazzling shirt, wellrevealed by a low vest.

  "Uncle Jack!" screamed Magdalena. "Uncle Jack!"

  Colonel Belmont jumped as if a battery had ripped up the ground in frontof him. Then he dashed across the street. "Good God!" he shouted. "GoodGod!" He caught Magdalena in his arms and carried her back to the shadowof the cross.

  "You two have been possessed by the devil of late," he began wrathfully,but Magdalena interrupted him.

  "No! no!" she exclaimed. "I didn't know there was anything differentthere from any other street. I didn't mean to."

  "Well, I don't suppose you did. You never know where you are in thisinfernal town, anyhow. Where's your maid?"

  But Magdalena had fainted.