man named Richard Guinane,who had just come up from San Francisco City. He was also _en route_for the diggings at Tuolumne; and we arranged to travel together.
He was going to try his luck in gold seeking for the second time; and,finding him an agreeable companion, I proposed that we should becomepartners. My proposal was accepted--on the condition that we shouldstop awhile on the Stanislaus--a river of whose auriferous deposits mynew partner had formed a very high opinion.
To this I made no objection; and, on reaching the Stanislaus, we pitchedour tents upon its northern bank.
When I became a little acquainted with the past history of my companion,I might reasonably have been expected to object to the partnership.From his own account, he was born to ill-luck: and, such being the case,I could scarce hope that fortune would favour me--so long as I was inhis company. Assuredly was Richard Guinane the victim of unfortunatecircumstances. There are many such in the world, though few whomFortune will not sometimes favour with her smiles--when they aredeserved; and, ofttimes, when they are not.
Richard Guinane, according to his own account of himself, was one ofthese few. Circumstances seemed to have been always against him. Eachbenevolent, or praiseworthy action he might perform, appeared to theworld as dictated by some base and selfish feeling! Whenever heattempted to confer a favour, the effort resulted in an injury, to thosewhom he meant to benefit. Whenever he tried to win a friend, it endedby his making an enemy!
His hopes of happiness had ever proved delusive--his anticipations ofmisery were always realised!
Pride, honour, in short, every noble feeling that man should possess,appeared to be his; and yet fate so controlled those sentiments, thateach manifestation of them seemed, to the world, the reverse of the truemotive that inspired it. Such was Guinane's character--partly drawnfrom statements furnished by himself, and partly from facts that cameunder my own observation.
Certain circumstances of his life, which he made known to me, hadproduced an impression on my memory; but more especially those of whichI was myself a spectator, and which brought his unhappy existence to anabrupt and tragical termination. The history of his life is too strangeto be left unrecorded.
Richard Guinane was a native of New York State, where his father diedbefore he was quite five years of age--leaving a wife and threechildren, of whom Dick was the eldest.
So early had Dick's ill-fortune made its appearance, that before he hadreached his fourteenth year, he had established the reputation of beingthe greatest thief and liar in his native village!
When once this character became attached to him, no church window couldbe broken, nor any other mischief occur, that was not attributed to DickGuinane, although, according to his own account, he was really the bestbehaved boy in the place!
Near the residence of his mother, lived the widow of a merchant, who hadleft a small fortune to his only child, a daughter--the widow having thesole charge both of the fortune and the heiress--already a half growngirl.
With a charming voice, this young lady would answer to the name ofAmanda Milne. She had seen Dick every day, since her earliestchildhood; and she had formed a better opinion of him than of any otherlad in the village. She was the only one in the place, except his ownmother, who felt any regard for Dick Guinane. All his other neighbourslooked upon him, as a living evidence of God's amazing mercy!
Like most young ladies, Amanda was learning some accomplishments--toenable her to kill time in a genteel, and useless manner.
The first great work achieved by her fingers, and to her own entiresatisfaction, was a silk purse--which it had not taken her quite twomonths to knit. This purse, on a favourable opportunity having offereditself, was presented to Dick.
Not long after, her mother wished to exhibit her needle-work to somefriends--as a proof of the skill and industry of her daughter, who wasrequested to produce the purse.
Amanda knew that Dick was not liked by the inhabitants of the village;and that her own mother had an especially bad opinion of him. Moreover,the Guinane family was not so wealthy as the widow Milne; and in theopinion of many, there was no equality whatever between the young peoplerepresenting each.
Though Amanda was well aware of all this, had she been alone with hermother, in all likelihood she would have told the truth; but, in thepresence of strangers, she acted as most other girls would have doneunder similar circumstances. She said she had lost the purse; and hadsearched for it everywhere without finding it. About that time, Dickwas seen in possession of a purse; and would give no account, of how hecame by it. The two facts that Amanda Milne had lost a purse, and thatDick Guinane had one in his possession, soon became the subject of acomparison; and the acquaintances of both arrived at the conclusion:that Amanda, as she had stated, must have lost her purse, and that Dickmust have stolen it!
Time passed on--each month producing some additional evidence to condemnpoor Dick in the estimation of his acquaintances.
Mrs Guinane was a member of the Methodist Church, over which presidedthe Reverend Joseph Grievous. This gentleman was in the habit ofholding frequent conversations with Mrs Guinane, on the growingsinfulness of her son. Notwithstanding her great reverence for herspiritual instructor, she could not perceive Dick's terrible faults.Withal, the complaints made to her--of his killing cats, dogs, andgeese, stealing fruit, and breaking windows--were so frequent, andapparently so true, that she used to take Dick to task, and in a kindlyway read long maternal lectures to him.
Dick always avowed his innocence--even in the presence of Mr Grievous--and would use the best of arguments to prove himself as "not guilty."This pretence of innocence, in the opinion of the Reverend Grievous, wasa wickedness exceeding all his other misdeeds; and the sanctimoniousgentleman suggested the remedy, of having Dick beaten into confessionand repentance! To this course of treatment, however, Mrs Guinanefirmly refused to give her consent.
One day, Dick had been to a neighbouring town; and when returning, hadpassed a house--to the gate of which the old and well known horse of theReverend Grievous stood tied. Simply noticing the horse, and reflectingthat his reverend owner must be inside the house, Dick continued on.
When near his mother's house, he was overtaken by the horse, that badcome trotting along the road after him. The horse was without a rider,which proved that not being properly secured, he had got loose.
Dick caught the horse, mounted him, and commenced riding back--for thepurpose of delivering him to the minister, for he could not permit, thatso pious a person should have to walk home through the mud.
The road was bad--like most of the country roads in the United States--and Dick was already fatigued with a long walk. To take the horse tothe house where his owner was visiting, would give him more than a mileto walk back; but no personal consideration could deter the lad fromdoing what he thought to be his duty.
On coming out of the house--where he had been visiting one of themembers of his church--Mr Grievous was surprised not to find his horse;but the mystery was fully explained when, after proceeding a shortdistance, he saw Dick Guinane on the horse's back.
Here was evidence welcome to Mr Grievous. Dick was at one of his oldgames--caught in the very act--riding another man's horse--and thathorse the property of his own minister!
The Reverend Joseph was rejoiced, as he had long been looking for anopportunity like this. He attributed all Dick's misdeeds to the want ofproper chastisement; and here was a good reason for administering it tohim. Dick had no father to correct his faults; and, in the opinion ofMr Grievous, his mother was too lenient with the lad.
He had long promised, that if ever he caught Dick in any misdemeanour,he would himself administer a lesson that would not only benefit theboy, but the community in which he dwelt. He would be only fulfilling aduty, which his sacred office imposed upon him; and the presentopportunity was too good a one to be lost.
Dick rode up to the minister, dismounted, and accosted him in a mannerthat should have been proof of innocence. Perhaps it
would have been,by any other person; but to the Reverend Grievous, Dick's confidentdeportment--inspired by the consciousness of having acted rightly--onlyaggravated the offence of which he was supposed to be guilty. His boldeffrontery was but the bearing of a person long accustomed to crime. Soreasoned Mr Grievous!
Without giving Dick time to finish his explanation, the minister seizedhim by the collar; and, with his riding whip, commenced administering tohim a vigorous chastisement.
Dick was at the time over sixteen years of age; and was, moreover, astrong, active youth for his years.
So great was his respect, for all persons, whom he thought superior tohimself, that for some time he bore the chastisement--unresistinglypermitting the minister to proceed in the execution of his fancied duty.
Human nature could not stand such treatment long; and Dick's temper atlength giving way, he picked up a stone, hurled it at the head of thereverend horsewhipper--who, on receiving the blow, fell heavily to theearth.
He rose again; and in all