A. D. 2000
Page 6
CHAPTER VI
For nearly five years, Jean and Marie Colchis occupied the old house inDuke's Lane.
The old man worked hard, and long hours were passed in arduousexperiments. The ozone machine had performed its mission, and was athing of the past. The hair on Colchis' brows was whiter, the lines ofcare on his face deeper, and his gait slower.
Fortune had smiled upon him. Money had rolled in, and the interior ofthe dilapidated old building was in strange contrast with the exterior.The rooms were handsomely furnished: bric-a-brac, books, a piano, anda thousand and one little _joujous_ dear to the feminine heart, gaveevidence of the hand that had wrought this change--Marie Colchis.
The seventeen-year-old girl to whom Junius Cobb had bidden a tearfuladieu, had become a highly educated woman of twenty-one. The beautyof her youth grew with her years. Her disposition was commensuratewith her beauty. The solace of her father in his age, the pride of hisheart, she became the one object for which he lived and labored.
Often and often had this sweet girl asked of her father some knowledgeof Junius Cobb. When would he come? Was it known where he was? and didher father think that he still remembered his old friends in Duke'sLane? Then, as her thoughts wandered to their last interview, with itssad parting, tears filled her eyes, and her bosom heaved and fell withdeep, sorrowing emotion.
She still loved him; time had wrought no change. Her father saw it,knew it; and while a shade of sadness passed over his brow, he simplymuttered:
"It must be done!"
Thus time passed.
A great invention was Colchis at work upon. It would astonish theworld; it would make him famous for life; his wealth would becomevast in the extreme. But none of these thoughts disturbed the calmequanimity of this great man.
He cared not for fame and honor, for his life was about run out. Butwealth! Ah! that was another thing! He did want it; but for whom? Nothimself? Who knows?
"They will want it, will want all I can give them," he said to himselfmany times.
Later on, there came many visitors to the house in Duke's Lane. Theycame singly, and sometimes in pairs. They remained awhile closeted withthe old man, and then they went away. They were scientists sent by thegovernment to report upon the invention of Jean Colchis.
One day, after a more lengthy visit than usual from one of thesegentlemen, Colchis entered the little parlor where Marie sat recliningin a large chair, reading a book of poems.
Upon his approach, she quickly arose, and greeted him with warmaffection.
"My daughter," he commenced, as he led her to a chair and seatedhimself by her side, "we are going to leave Duke's Lane. I believethe time has come when you should see more of the world; should mixin society, and take the place which your talents, beauty, and moralattainments give you by right. You are nearly twenty-one years old,highly educated, and exquisitely beautiful. You will make friendswherever you go, and you will have suitors by the score. With wealth,position, wit, and beauty, what more can you desire? Do not interruptme, darling," as his daughter was about to speak; "I know what youwould say: that your heart is given to Junius Cobb, and that you wantno other suitors. I have had fears, Marie, that Junius would never comeback to us in this world--that, perhaps, he is dead."
A cry of anguish burst from the poor girl's lips:
"Oh! do not, do not say that! He is not dead! You know it, father! Oh!tell me he is not dead!" and she sank at her father's feet, overcomewith grief.
"O, God!" breathed the old man between his set teeth; "I fear it mustbe done!" Then, leaning over and stroking the golden locks of hisdaughter, he said:
"Marie, look up."
Her eyes, glistening with tiny tear-crystals, were turned up to his.
"Look into my eyes, my child, and listen well to my words. Do you loveJunius Cobb as fondly now as when you were a girl, on the night when hesaid good-bye and left you? Answer me as your heart dictates."
"O, father! can you doubt it?" A heavenly look appeared in her eyes."Would to God I could be with him in this life, or in death!" Her headfell upon her father's bosom.
"Then, life without your lover is worse than death?" and her fatherfixed his eyes in a hoping, expecting, desiring expression upon hisdaughter.
"Yes!" burst from her lips; "a thousand times yes! for what is lifewithout him? If I be not with him in death, then death is oblivion!"
"My noble, true-hearted daughter!" and he folded her to his heart."Your lover is true to you--that I can swear. Await with patience, mychild, till God wills your union. Now, once more listen to my words:it is my desire that you enter the world of life and fashion, rule myhouse as its mistress; entertain, make friends, and let no worry enterthy heart. Do this, and if at the end of four years more, you ask forJunius Cobb, your betrothed, he shall come to you. I swear to you, mydaughter, that my words are true."
"Father, I will do thy bidding." She wept tears of hope as she sankinto her chair.
Soon the world of fashion, the society of money and brains, began tochipper-chapper of the new Croesus and his divine daughter, who hadsuddenly come into their midst.
The Colchis mansion was among the finest of those beautiful homes whichhave made San Francisco famous as a city of palaces. His hospitalitywas prodigal; his entertainments fit for kings. He and his beautifuldaughter were objects around which fluttered the culture, the fashion,and the wealth of the city.
Men came, saw the divinity, and worshiped at the shrine. Suitorsimplored her love, begged it, but without success. To all was MarieColchis kind, honorable, and lovely, but to none gave she the slightestencouragement.
Time passed, and still she was the same. Suitors still persevered, butwithout success. Against her no word of disrespect could be uttered,none could bear feelings save of love and admiration; all spoke of heras the frozen sunbeam.
Colchis pere saw it, and understood it; she could never change.
Then Jean Colchis arose one morning, and told his daughter that he mustgo away on important duty. His stay might be protracted to months,he could not tell her how long. She was to remain, and under theguardianship of her housekeeper, she should find what amusement shechose.
Their adieus were spoken, and Colchis sailed out of the Golden Gate ina ship of his own.
Months passed, and Marie Colchis grew sad and disconsolate. Her lovergone, and her father away, there was nothing to live for. Hours uponhours she sat and wept--wept tears of such sadness as only a heartbowed down by the most intense sorrow could cause to flow.
The house on the hill was closed to the world, and Marie lived but inthe past, and with slight hopes for the future.
It was the 13th of March, 1897, and Jean Colchis had arrived home tohis child. There was sadness in his eyes as he clasped his darlingdaughter to his heart; but a firm, determined expression overspreadhis countenance, as though he had fought some great battle, and felthimself the victor.
"Never again, dear old father, can I open this house to the world," shesaid to him, as they sat and spoke of the past.
"And never again shall you, my child," he had returned, holding her ina loving embrace.
"Let me leave the world and all it contains! Let me go and bury my bodyas I have my love! Father, I am dying!"
The time had come. Jean Colchis saw that not an hour was to be lost.Fate had ordained it; he must comply, though he murdered his belovedchild!
"Grieve not, my child," he tenderly said, "the future is bright andassured. I am going to take you to your husband!"
Like a burst of the sun through a dark and dreary sky, her eyes lightedup, and she sprang toward him, clasped him around the neck, and coveredhis face with kisses. Then she arose, staggered, and fainted. The goodnews was too sudden.
Two weeks after this eventful day, Jean Colchis and his daughter sailedaway in the ship which had once before borne him out of the harbor.As the vessel passed through the Golden Gate, the father and daughterstood at the rail and took one last look at the life behind them.
"Se
e! dear father," Marie exclaimed, pointing to the shore on thesouth, while a bright smile illumined her face. "See! there is thePresidio, with its little houses! Junius lived there, once--Junius, myown, and to whom we are now hastening. God watch over him!"
"Amen!"
The words came sadly from the old man's lips. Thus they sailed away,and never more was word heard of them by the living world.
The years came and passed, but these two loving hearts came not againto the haunts of man.
And the other--Junius Cobb? He lay an inert mass in the pedestal of theStatue of Liberty, on Mt. Olympus.