by Bret Harte
THE FOOL OF FIVE FORKS
He lived alone. I do not think this peculiarity arose from any wish towithdraw his foolishness from the rest of the camp, nor was it probablethat the combined wisdom of Five Forks ever drove him into exile. Myimpression is, that he lived alone from choice,--a choice he made longbefore the camp indulged in any criticism of his mental capacity. He wasmuch given to moody reticence, and, although to outward appearances astrong man, was always complaining of ill-health. Indeed, one theory ofhis isolation was, that it afforded him better opportunities for takingmedicine, of which he habitually consumed large quantities.
His folly first dawned upon Five Forks through the post-office windows.He was, for a long time, the only man who wrote home by every mail; hisletters being always directed to the same person,--a woman. Now, it sohappened that the bulk of the Five Forks correspondence was usually theother way. There were many letters received (the majority being inthe female hand), but very few answered. The men received themindifferently, or as a matter of course. A few opened and read them onthe spot, with a barely repressed smile of self-conceit, or quite asfrequently glanced over them with undisguised impatience. Some of theletters began with "My dear husband;" and some were never called for.But the fact that the only regular correspondent of Five Forks neverreceived any reply became at last quite notorious. Consequently, whenan envelope was received, bearing the stamp of the "dead letter office,"addressed to "The Fool," under the more conventional title of "CyrusHawkins," there was quite a fever of excitement. I do not know how thesecret leaked out; but it was eventually known to the camp, that theenvelope contained Hawkins's own letters returned. This was the firstevidence of his weakness. Any man who repeatedly wrote to a woman whodid not reply must be a fool. I think Hawkins suspected that his follywas known to the camp; but he took refuge in symptoms of chills andfever, which he at once developed, and effected a diversion with threebottles of Indian cholagogue and two boxes of pills. At all events, atthe end of a week, he resumed a pen stiffened by tonics, with all hisold epistolatory pertinacity. This time the letters had a new address.
In those days a popular belief obtained in the mines, that luckparticularly favored the foolish and unscientific. Consequently, whenHawkins struck a "pocket" in the hillside near his solitary cabin, therewas but little surprise. "He will sink it all in the next hole" wasthe prevailing belief, predicated upon the usual manner in which thepossessor of "nigger luck" disposed of his fortune. To everybody'sastonishment, Hawkins, after taking out about eight thousand dollars,and exhausting the pocket, did not prospect for another. The campthen waited patiently to see what he would do with his money. I think,however, that it was with the greatest difficulty their indignation waskept from taking the form of a personal assault when it became knownthat he had purchased a draft for eight thousand dollars, in favor of"that woman." More than this, it was finally whispered that the draftwas returned to him as his letters had been, and that he was ashamedto reclaim the money at the express-office. "It wouldn't be a badspecilation to go East, get some smart gal, for a hundred dollars, todress herself up and represent that 'Hag,' and jest freeze onto thateight thousand," suggested a far-seeing financier. I may state here,that we always alluded to Hawkins's fair unknown as the "Hag" withouthaving, I am confident, the least justification for that epithet.
That the "Fool" should gamble seemed eminently fit and proper. That heshould occasionally win a large stake, according to that popular theorywhich I have recorded in the preceding paragraph, appeared, also, a notimprobable or inconsistent fact. That he should, however, break the farobank which Mr. John Hamlin had set up in Five Forks, and carry off asum variously estimated at from ten to twenty thousand dollars, andnot return the next day, and lose the money at the same table, reallyappeared incredible. Yet such was the fact. A day or two passed withoutany known investment of Mr. Hawkins's recently-acquired capital. "Ef heallows to send it to that 'Hag,'" said one prominent citizen, "suthin'ought to be done. It's jest ruinin' the reputation of this yercamp,--this sloshin' around o' capital on non-residents ez don't claimit!" "It's settin' an example o' extravagance," said another, "ez islittle better nor a swindle. Thais mor'n five men in this camp, thet,hearin' thet Hawkins hed sent home eight thousand dollars, must jestrise up and send home their hard earnings too! And then to think thetthet eight thousand was only a bluff, after all, and thet it's lyin'there on call in Adams & Co.'s bank! Well, I say it's one o' them thingsa vigilance committee oughter look into."
When there seemed no possibility of this repetition of Hawkins's folly,the anxiety to know what he had really done with his money becameintense. At last a self-appointed committee of four citizens droppedartfully, but to outward appearances carelessly, upon him in hisseclusion. When some polite formalities had been exchanged, and someeasy vituperation of a backward season offered by each of the parties,Tom Wingate approached the subject.
"Sorter dropped heavy on Jack Hamlin the other night, didn't ye? Heallows you didn't give him no show for revenge. I said you wasn'tno such d----d fool; didn't I, Dick?" continued the artful Wingate,appealing to a confederate.
"Yes," said Dick promptly. "You said twenty thousand dollars wasn'tgoin' to be thrown around recklessly. You said Cyrus had suthin' betterto do with his capital," super-added Dick with gratuitous mendacity. "Idisremember now what partickler investment you said he was goin' to makewith it," he continued, appealing with easy indifference to his friend.
Of course Wingate did not reply, but looked at the "Fool," who, witha troubled face, was rubbing his legs softly. After a pause, he turneddeprecatingly toward his visitors.
"Ye didn't enny of ye ever hev a sort of tremblin' in your legs, akind o' shakiness from the knee down? Suthin'," he continued, slightlybrightening with his topic,--"suthin' that begins like chills, andyet ain't chills? A kind o' sensation of goneness here, and a kind o'feelin' as it you might die suddint?--when Wright's Pills don't somehowreach the spot, and quinine don't fetch you?"
"No!" said Wingate with a curt directness, and the air ofauthoritatively responding for his friends,--"no, never had. You wasspeakin' of this yer investment."
"And your bowels all the time irregular?" continued Hawkins, blushingunder Wingate's eye, and yet clinging despairingly to his theme, like ashipwrecked mariner to his plank.
Wingate did not reply, but glanced significantly at the rest. Hawkinsevidently saw this recognition of his mental deficiency, and saidapologetically, "You was saying suthin' about my investment?"
"Yes," said Wingate, so rapidly as to almost take Hawkins's breathaway,--"the investment you made in"--
"Rafferty's Ditch," said the "Fool" timidly.
For a moment, the visitors could only stare blankly at each other."Rafferty's Ditch," the one notorious failure of Five Forks!--Rafferty'sDitch, the impracticable scheme of an utterly unpracticalman!--Rafferty's Ditch, a ridiculous plan for taking water that couldnot be got to a place where it wasn't wanted!--Rafferty's Ditch, thathad buried the fortunes of Rafferty and twenty wretched stockholders inits muddy depths!
"And thet's it, is it?" said Wingate, after a gloomy pause. "Thet's it!I see it all now, boys. That's how ragged Pat Rafferty went down to SanFrancisco yesterday in store-clothes, and his wife and four childrenwent off in a kerridge to Sacramento. Thet's why them ten workmen ofhis, ez hadn't a cent to bless themselves with, was playin' billiardslast night, and eatin' isters. Thet's whar that money kum frum,--onehundred dollars to pay for the long advertisement of the new issue ofditch stock in the 'Times' yesterday. Thet's why them six strangerswere booked at the Magnolia hotel yesterday. Don't you see? It's thetmoney--and that 'Fool'!"
The "Fool" sat silent. The visitors rose without a word.
"You never took any of them Indian Vegetable Pills?" asked Hawkinstimidly of Wingate.
"No!" roared Wingate as he opened the door.
"They tell me, that, took with the Panacea,--they was out o' the Panaceawhen I went to the drug-store last week,--they say, that, took w
ith thePanacea, they always effect a certin cure." But by this time, Wingateand his disgusted friends had retreated, slamming the door on the "Fool"and his ailments.
Nevertheless, in six months the whole affair was forgotten: the moneyhad been spent; the "Ditch" had been purchased by a company of Bostoncapitalists, fired by the glowing description of an Eastern tourist, whohad spent one drunken night at Five Forks; and I think even the mentalcondition of Hawkins might have remained undisturbed by criticism, butfor a singular incident.
It was during an exciting political campaign, when party-feeling ranhigh, that the irascible Capt. McFadden of Sacramento visited FiveForks. During a heated discussion in the Prairie Rose Saloon, wordspassed between the captain and the Hon. Calhoun Bungstarter, ending ina challenge. The captain bore the infelicitous reputation of beinga notorious duellist and a dead-shot. The captain was unpopular. Thecaptain was believed to have been sent by the opposition for a deadlypurpose; and the captain was, moreover, a stranger. I am sorry to saythat with Five Forks this latter condition did not carry the qualityof sanctity or reverence that usually obtains among other nomads. Therewas, consequently, some little hesitation when the captain turned uponthe crowd, and asked for some one to act as his friend. To everybody'sastonishment, and to the indignation of many, the "Fool" steppedforward, and offered himself in that capacity. I do not knowwhether Capt. McFadden would have chosen him voluntarily; but he wasconstrained, in the absence of a better man, to accept his services.
The duel never took place. The preliminaries were all arranged, thespot indicated; the men were present with their seconds; there wasno interruption from without; there was no explanation or apologypassed--but the duel did not take place. It may be readily imaginedthat these facts, which were all known to Five Forks, threw the wholecommunity into a fever of curiosity. The principals, the surgeon, andone second left town the next day. Only the "Fool" remained. HE resistedall questioning, declaring himself held in honor not to divulge: inshort, conducted himself with consistent but exasperating folly. It wasnot until six months had passed, that Col. Starbottle, the second ofCalhoun Bungstarter, in a moment of weakness, superinduced by the socialglass, condescended to explain. I should not do justice to the parties,if I did not give that explanation in the colonel's own words. I mayremark, in passing, that the characteristic dignity of Col. Starbottlealways became intensified by stimulants, and that, by the same process,all sense of humor was utterly eliminated.
"With the understanding that I am addressing myself confidentially tomen of honor," said the colonel, elevating his chest above the bar-roomcounter of the Prairie Rose Saloon, "I trust that it will not benecessary for me to protect myself from levity, as I was forced to do inSacramento on the only other occasion when I entered into an explanationof this delicate affair by--er--er--calling the individual to a personalaccount--er. I do not believe," added the colonel, slightly wavinghis glass of liquor in the air with a graceful gesture of courteousdeprecation, "knowing what I do of the present company, that such acourse of action is required here. Certainly not, sir, in the home ofMr. Hawkins--er--the gentleman who represented Mr. Bungstarter, whoseconduct, ged, sir, is worthy of praise, blank me!"
Apparently satisfied with the gravity and respectful attention of hislisteners, Col. Starbottle smiled relentingly and sweetly, closed hiseyes half-dreamily, as if to recall his wandering thoughts, and began,--
"As the spot selected was nearest the tenement of Mr. Hawkins, it wasagreed that the parties should meet there. They did so promptly athalf-past six. The morning being chilly, Mr. Hawkins extended thehospitalities of his house with a bottle of Bourbon whiskey, of whichall partook but myself. The reason for that exception is, I believe,well known. It is my invariable custom to take brandy--a wineglassfulin a cup of strong coffee--immediately on rising. It stimulates thefunctions, sir, without producing any blank derangement of the nerves."
The barkeeper, to whom, as an expert, the colonel had graciouslyimparted this information, nodded approvingly; and the colonel, amid abreathless silence, went on.
"We were about twenty minutes in reaching the spot. The ground wasmeasured, the weapons were loaded, when Mr. Bungstarter confided to methe information that he was unwell, and in great pain. On consultationwith Mr. Hawkins, it appeared that his principal, in a distant part ofthe field, was also suffering, and in great pain. The symptoms weresuch as a medical man would pronounce 'choleraic.' I say WOULDhave pronounced; for, on examination, the surgeon was also found tobe--er--in pain, and, I regret to say, expressing himself in languageunbecoming the occasion. His impression was, that some powerful drughad been administered. On referring the question to Mr. Hawkins, heremembered that the bottle of whiskey partaken by them contained amedicine which he had been in the habit of taking, but which, havingfailed to act upon him, he had concluded to be generally ineffective,and had forgotten. His perfect willingness to hold himself personallyresponsible to each of the parties, his genuine concern at thedisastrous effect of the mistake, mingled with his own alarm at thestate of his system, which--er--failed to--er--respond to the peculiarqualities of the medicine, was most becoming to him as a man of honorand a gentleman. After an hour's delay, both principals being completelyexhausted, and abandoned by the surgeon, who was unreasonably alarmedat his own condition, Mr. Hawkins and I agreed to remove our men toMarkleville. There, after a further consultation with Mr. Hawkins, anamicable adjustment of all difficulties, honorable to both parties,and governed by profound secrecy, was arranged. I believe," added thecolonel, looking around, and setting down his glass, "no gentleman hasyet expressed himself other than satisfied with the result."
Perhaps it was the colonel's manner; but, whatever was the opinion ofFive Forks regarding the intellectual display of Mr. Hawkins in thisaffair, there was very little outspoken criticism at the moment. In afew weeks the whole thing was forgotten, except as part of the necessaryrecord of Hawkins's blunders, which was already a pretty full one.Again, some later follies conspired to obliterate the past, until, ayear later, a valuable lead was discovered in the "Blazing Star" tunnel,in the hill where he lived; and a large sum was offered him for aportion of his land on the hilltop. Accustomed as Five Forks had becometo the exhibition of his folly, it was with astonishment that theylearned that he resolutely and decidedly refused the offer. The reasonthat he gave was still more astounding,--he was about to build.
To build a house upon property available for mining-purposes waspreposterous; to build at all, with a roof already covering him, wasan act of extravagance; to build a house of the style he proposed wassimply madness.
Yet here were facts. The plans were made, and the lumber for the newbuilding was already on the ground, while the shaft of the "BlazingStar" was being sunk below. The site was, in reality, a very picturesqueone, the building itself of a style and quality hitherto unknown inFive Forks. The citizens, at first sceptical, during their moments ofrecreation and idleness gathered doubtingly about the locality. Day byday, in that climate of rapid growths, the building, pleasantly knownin the slang of Five Forks as the "Idiot Asylum," rose beside the greenoaks and clustering firs of Hawkins Hill, as if it were part of thenatural phenomena. At last it was completed. Then Mr. Hawkins proceededto furnish it with an expensiveness and extravagance of outlay quite inkeeping with his former idiocy. Carpets, sofas, mirrors, and finally apiano,--the only one known in the county, and brought at great expensefrom Sacramento,--kept curiosity at a fever-heat. More than that, therewere articles and ornaments which a few married experts declared onlyfit for women. When the furnishing of the house was complete,--it hadoccupied two months of the speculative and curious attention of thecamp,--Mr. Hawkins locked the front-door, put the key in his pocket, andquietly retired to his more humble roof, lower on the hillside.
I have not deemed it necessary to indicate to the intelligent reader allof the theories which obtained in Five Forks during the erection of thebuilding. Some of them may be readily imagined. That the "Hag" had, byartful coyness and s
ystematic reticence, at last completely subjugatedthe "Fool," and that the new house was intended for the nuptial bower ofthe (predestined) unhappy pair, was, of course, the prevailing opinion.But when, after a reasonable time had elapsed, and the house stillremained untenanted, the more exasperating conviction forced itself uponthe general mind, that the "Fool" had been for the third time imposedupon; when two months had elapsed, and there seemed no prospect ofa mistress for the new house,--I think public indignation became sostrong, that, had the "Hag" arrived, the marriage would have beenpublicly prevented. But no one appeared that seemed to answer to thisidea of an available tenant; and all inquiry of Mr. Hawkins as to hisintention in building a house, and not renting it, or occupying it,failed to elicit any further information. The reasons that he gave werefelt to be vague, evasive, and unsatisfactory. He was in no hurry tomove, he said. When he WAS ready, it surely was not strange that heshould like to have his house all ready to receive him. He was oftenseen upon the veranda, of a summer evening, smoking a cigar. It isreported that one night the house was observed to be brilliantly lightedfrom garret to basement; that a neighbor, observing this, crept towardthe open parlor-window, and, looking in, espied the "Fool" accuratelydressed in evening costume, lounging upon a sofa in the drawing-room,with the easy air of socially entertaining a large party.Notwithstanding this, the house was unmistakably vacant that evening,save for the presence of the owner, as the witness afterward testified.When this story was first related, a few practical men suggested thetheory that Mr. Hawkins was simply drilling himself in the elaborateduties of hospitality against a probable event in his history. A fewventured the belief that the house was haunted. The imaginative editorof the Five Forks "Record" evolved from the depths of his professionalconsciousness a story that Hawkins's sweetheart had died, and thathe regularly entertained her spirit in this beautifully furnishedmausoleum. The occasional spectacle of Hawkins's tall figure pacing theveranda on moonlight nights lent some credence to this theory, until anunlooked-for incident diverted all speculation into another channel.
It was about this time that a certain wild, rude valley, in theneighborhood of Five Forks, had become famous as a picturesque resort.Travellers had visited it, and declared that there were more cubic yardsof rough stone cliff, and a waterfall of greater height, than any theyhad visited. Correspondents had written it up with extravagant rhetoricand inordinate poetical quotation. Men and women who had never enjoyed asunset, a tree, or a flower, who had never appreciated the graciousnessor meaning of the yellow sunlight that flecked their homely doorways,or the tenderness of a midsummer's night, to whose moonlight they baredtheir shirt-sleeves or their tulle dresses, came from thousands of milesaway to calculate the height of this rock, to observe the depth of thischasm, to remark upon the enormous size of this unsightly tree, and tobelieve with ineffable self-complacency that they really admiredNature. And so it came to pass, that, in accordance with the tastes orweaknesses of the individual, the more prominent and salient points ofthe valley were christened; and there was a "Lace Handkerchief Fall,"and the "Tears of Sympathy Cataract," and one distinguished orator's"Peak," and several "Mounts" of various noted people, living or dead,and an "Exclamation-Point," and a "Valley of Silent Adoration." And, incourse of time, empty soda-water bottles were found at the base of thecataract, and greasy newspapers, and fragments of ham-sandwiches, layat the dusty roots of giant trees. With this, there were frequentirruptions of closely-shaven and tightly-cravated men, and delicate,flower-faced women, in the one long street of Five Forks, and ascampering of mules, and an occasional procession of dusty brown-linencavalry.
A year after "Hawkins's Idiot Asylum" was completed, one day theredrifted into the valley a riotous cavalcade of "school-marms,"teachers of the San Francisco public schools, out for a holiday. Notseverely-spectacled Minervas, and chastely armed and mailed Pallases,but, I fear, for the security of Five Forks, very human, charming, andmischievous young women. At least, so the men thought, working in theditches, and tunnelling on the hillside; and when, in the interestsof science, and the mental advancement of juvenile posterity, it wasfinally settled that they should stay in Five Forks two or threedays for the sake of visiting the various mines, and particularly the"Blazing Star" tunnel, there was some flutter of masculine anxiety.There was a considerable inquiry for "store-clothes," a hopelessoverhauling of old and disused raiment, and a general demand fox "boiledshirts" and the barber.
Meanwhile, with that supreme audacity and impudent hardihood of the sexwhen gregarious, the school-marms rode through the town, admiring openlythe handsome faces and manly figures that looked up from the ditches,or rose behind the cars of ore at the mouths of tunnels. Indeed, it isalleged that Jenny Forester, backed and supported by seven other equallyshameless young women, had openly and publicly waved her handkerchief tothe florid Hercules of Five Forks, one Tom Flynn, formerly of Virginia,leaving that good-natured but not over-bright giant pulling his blondemustaches in bashful amazement.
It was a pleasant June afternoon that Miss Milly Arnot, principal of theprimary department of one of the public schools of San Francisco, havingevaded her companions, resolved to put into operation a plan which hadlately sprung up in her courageous and mischief-loving fancy. With thatwonderful and mysterious instinct of her sex, from whom no secrets ofthe affections are hid, and to whom all hearts are laid open, she hadheard the story of Hawkins's folly, and the existence of the "IdiotAsylum." Alone, on Hawkins Hill, she had determined to penetrate itsseclusion. Skirting the underbrush at the foot of the hill, she managedto keep the heaviest timber between herself and the "Blazing Star"tunnel at its base, as well as the cabin of Hawkins, half-way up theascent, until, by a circuitous route, at last she reached, unobserved,the summit. Before her rose, silent, darkened, and motionless, theobject of her search. Here her courage failed her, with all thecharacteristic inconsequence of her sex. A sudden fear of all thedangers she had safely passed--bears, tarantulas, drunken men, andlizards--came upon her. For a moment, as she afterward expressed it,"she thought she should die." With this belief, probably, she gatheredthree large stones, which she could hardly lift, for the purpose ofthrowing a great distance; put two hair-pins in her mouth; and carefullyre-adjusted with both hands two stray braids of her lovely blue-blackmane, which had fallen in gathering the stones. Then she felt in thepockets of her linen duster for her card-case, handkerchief, pocketbook,and smelling-bottle, and, finding them intact, suddenly assumed anair of easy, ladylike unconcern, went up the steps of the veranda,and demurely pulled the front doorbell, which she knew would not beanswered. After a decent pause, she walked around the encompassingveranda, examining the closed shutters of the French windows until shefound one that yielded to her touch. Here she paused again to adjust hercoquettish hat by the mirror-like surface of the long sash-window, thatreflected the full length of her pretty figure. And then she opened thewindow, and entered the room.
Although long closed, the house had a smell of newness and of freshpaint, that was quite unlike the mouldiness of the conventionalhaunted house. The bright carpets, the cheerful walls, the glisteningoil-cloths, were quite inconsistent with the idea of a ghost. Withchildish curiosity, she began to explore the silent house, at firsttimidly,--opening the doors with a violent push, and then steppingback from the threshold to make good a possible retreat,--and then moreboldly, as she became convinced of her security and absolute loneliness.In one of the chambers--the largest--there were fresh flowers in a vase,evidently gathered that morning; and, what seemed still more remarkable,the pitchers and ewers were freshly filled with water. This obliged MissMilly to notice another singular fact, namely, that the house was freefrom dust, the one most obtrusive and penetrating visitor of Five Forks.The floors and carpets had been recently swept, the chairs and furniturecarefully wiped and dusted. If the house WAS haunted, it was possessedby a spirit who had none of the usual indifference to decay and mould.And yet the beds had evidently never been slept in, the very springsof the chair in which she s
at creaked stiffly at the novelty; thecloset-doors opened with the reluctance of fresh paint and varnish; andin spite of the warmth, cleanliness, and cheerfulness of furniture anddecoration, there was none of the ease of tenancy and occupation. AsMiss Milly afterward confessed, she longed to "tumble things around;"and, when she reached the parlor or drawing-room again, she could hardlyresist the desire. Particularly was she tempted by a closed piano, thatstood mutely against the wall. She thought she would open it just to seewho was the maker. That done, it would be no harm to try its tone. Shedid so, with one little foot on the soft pedal. But Miss Milly wastoo good a player, and too enthusiastic a musician, to stop athalf-measures. She tried it again, this time so sincerely, that thewhole house seemed to spring into voice. Then she stopped and listened.There was no response: the empty rooms seemed to have relapsed intotheir old stillness. She stepped out on the veranda. A woodpeckerrecommenced his tapping on an adjacent tree: the rattle of a cart in therocky gulch below the hill came faintly up. No one was to be seen far ornear. Miss Milly, re-assured, returned. She again ran her fingers overthe keys, stopped, caught at a melody running in her mind, half playedit, and then threw away all caution. Before five minutes had elapsed,she had entirely forgotten herself, and with her linen duster thrownaside, her straw hat flung on the piano, her white hands bared, and ablack loop of her braided hair hanging upon her shoulder, was fairlyembarked upon a flowing sea of musical recollection.
She had played, perhaps, half an hour, when having just finished anelaborate symphony, and resting her hands on the keys, she heard verydistinctly and unmistakably the sound of applause from without. In aninstant the fires of shame and indignation leaped into her cheeks; andshe rose from the instrument, and ran to the window, only in time tocatch sight of a dozen figures in blue and red flannel shirts vanishinghurriedly through the trees below.
Miss Milly's mind was instantly made up. I think I have alreadyintimated, that, under the stimulus of excitement, she was not wantingin courage; and as she quietly resumed her gloves, hat, and duster, shewas not, perhaps, exactly the young person that it would be entirelysafe for the timid, embarrassed, or inexperienced of my sex to meetalone. She shut down the piano; and having carefully reclosed allthe windows and doors, and restored the house to its former desolatecondition, she stepped from the veranda, and proceeded directly to thecabin of the unintellectual Hawkins, that reared its adobe chimney abovethe umbrage a quarter of a mile below.
The door opened instantly to her impulsive knock, and the "Fool ofFive Forks" stood before her. Miss Milly had never before seen the mandesignated by this infelicitous title; and as he stepped backward,in half courtesy and half astonishment, she was, for the moment,disconcerted. He was tall, finely formed, and dark-bearded. Above cheeksa little hollowed by care and ill-health shone a pair of hazel eyes,very large, very gentle, but inexpressibly sad and mournful. This wascertainly not the kind of man Miss Milly had expected to see; yet, afterher first embarrassment had passed, the very circumstance, oddly enough,added to her indignation, and stung her wounded pride still more deeply.Nevertheless, the arch hypocrite instantly changed her tactics with theswift intuition of her sex.
"I have come," she said with a dazzling smile, infinitely more dangerousthan her former dignified severity,--"I have come to ask your pardon fora great liberty I have just taken. I believe the new house above us onthe hill is yours. I was so much pleased with its exterior, that I leftmy friends for a moment below here," she continued artfully, with aslight wave of the hand, as if indicating a band of fearless Amazonswithout, and waiting to avenge any possible insult offered to one oftheir number, "and ventured to enter it. Finding it unoccupied, as I hadbeen told, I am afraid I had the audacity to sit down and amuse myselffor a few moments at the piano, while waiting for my friends."
Hawkins raised his beautiful eyes to hers. He saw a very pretty girl,with frank gray eyes glistening with excitement, with two red, slightlyfreckled cheeks glowing a little under his eyes, with a short scarletupper-lip turned back, like a rose-leaf, over a little line of whiteteeth, as she breathed somewhat hurriedly in her nervous excitement. Hesaw all this calmly, quietly, and, save for the natural uneasiness of ashy, reticent man, I fear without a quickening of his pulse.
"I knowed it," he said simply. "I heerd ye as I kem up."
Miss Milly was furious at his grammar, his dialect, his coolness, and,still more, at the suspicion that he was an active member of her invisible elaque.
"Ah!" she said, still smiling. "Then I think I heard YOU"--
"I reckon not," he interrupted gravely. "I didn't stay long. I foundthe boys hanging round the house, and I allowed at first I'd go in andkinder warn you; but they promised to keep still: and you looked socomfortable, and wrapped up in your music, that I hadn't the heart todisturb you, and kem away. I hope," he added earnestly, "they didn'tlet on ez they heerd you. They ain't a bad lot,--them Blazin' Starboys--though they're a little hard at times. But they'd no more hurtye then they would a--a--a cat!" continued Mr. Hawkins, blushing with afaint apprehension of the inelegance of his simile.
"No, no!" said Miss Milly, feeling suddenly very angry with herself,the "Fool," and the entire male population of Five Forks. "No! I havebehaved foolishly, I suppose--and, if they HAD, it would have served meright. But I only wanted to apologize to you. You'll find every thing asyou left it. Good-day!"
She turned to go. Mr. Hawkins began to feel embarrassed. "I'd have askedye to sit down," he said finally, "if it hed been a place fit for alady. I oughter done so, enny way. I don't know what kept me from it.But I ain't well, miss. Times I get a sort o' dumb ager,--it's theditches, I think, miss,--and I don't seem to hev my wits about me."
Instantly Miss Arnot was all sympathy: her quick woman's heart wastouched.
"Can I--can any thing be done?" she asked more timidly than she hadbefore spoken.
"No--not onless ye remember suthin' about these pills." He exhibited abox containing about half a dozen. "I forget the direction--I don'tseem to remember much, any way, these times. They're 'Jones's VegetableCompound.' If ye've ever took 'em, ye'll remember whether the reg'lardose is eight. They ain't but six here. But perhaps ye never tuk any,"he added deprecatingly.
"No," said Miss Milly curtly. She had usually a keen sense of theludicrous; but somehow Mr. Hawkins's eccentricity only pained her.
"Will you let me see you to the foot of the hill?" he said again, afteranother embarrassing pause.
Miss Arnot felt instantly that such an act would condone her trespass inthe eyes of the world. She might meet some of her invisible admirers,or even her companions; and, with all her erratic impulses, she was,nevertheless, a woman, and did not entirely despise the verdict ofconventionality. She smiled sweetly, and assented; and in another momentthe two were lost in the shadows of the wood.
Like many other apparently trivial acts in an uneventful life, it wasdecisive. As she expected, she met two or three of her late applauders,whom, she fancied, looked sheepish and embarrassed; she met, also, hercompanions looking for her in some alarm, who really appeared astonishedat her escort, and, she fancied, a trifle envious of her evidentsuccess. I fear that Miss Arnot, in response to their anxious inquiries,did not state entirely the truth, but, without actual assertion, ledthem to believe that she had, at a very early stage of the proceeding,completely subjugated this weak-minded giant, and had brought himtriumphantly to her feet. From telling this story two or three times,she got finally to believing that she had some foundation for it, thento a vague sort of desire that it would eventually prove to be true, andthen to an equally vague yearning to hasten that consummation. Thatit would redound to any satisfaction of the "Fool" she did not stopto doubt. That it would cure him of his folly she was quite confident.Indeed, there are very few of us, men or women, who do not believe thateven a hopeless love for ourselves is more conducive to the salvation ofthe lover than a requited affection for another.
The criticism of Five Forks was, as the reader may imagine, swift and
conclusive. When it was found out that Miss Arnot was not the "Hag"masquerading as a young and pretty girl, to the ultimate deception ofFive Forks in general, and the "Fool" in particular, it was at oncedecided that nothing but the speedy union of the "Fool" and the "prettyschool-marm" was consistent with ordinary common sense. The singulargood-fortune of Hawkins was quite in accordance with the theory of hisluck as propounded by the camp. That, after the "Hag" failed to makeher appearance, he should "strike a lead" in his own house, without thetrouble of "prospectin'," seemed to these casuists as a wonderful butinevitable law. To add to these fateful probabilities, Miss Arnot fell,and sprained her ankle, in the ascent of Mount Lincoln, and was confinedfor some weeks to the hotel after her companions had departed. Duringthis period, Hawkins was civilly but grotesquely attentive. When, aftera reasonable time had elapsed, there still appeared to be no immediateprospect of the occupancy of the new house, public opinion experienced asingular change in regard to its theories of Mr. Hawkins's conduct. The"Hag" was looked upon as a saint-like and long-suffering martyr to theweaknesses and inconsistency of the "Fool." That, after erecting thisnew house at her request, he had suddenly "gone back" on her; that hiscelibacy was the result of a long habit of weak proposal and subsequentshameless rejection; and that he was now trying his hand on the helplessschoolmarm, was perfectly plain to Five Forks. That he should befrustrated in his attempts at any cost was equally plain. Miss Millysuddenly found herself invested with a rude chivalry that would havebeen amusing, had it not been at times embarrassing; that would havebeen impertinent, but for the almost superstitious respect with whichit was proffered. Every day somebody from Five Forks rode out to inquirethe health of the fair patient. "Hez Hawkins bin over yer to-day?"queried Tom Flynn, with artful ease and indifference, as he leaned overMiss Milly's easy-chair on the veranda. Miss Milly, with a faint pinkflush on her cheek, was constrained to answer, "No." "Well, he sortersprained his foot agin a rock yesterday," continued Flynn with shamelessuntruthfulness. "You mus'n't think any thing o' that, Miss Arnot. He'llbe over yer to-morrer; and meantime he told me to hand this yer bookaywith his re-gards, and this yer specimen." And Mr. Flynn laid down theflowers he had picked en route against such an emergency, and presentedrespectfully a piece of quartz and gold, which he had taken that morningfrom his own sluice-box. "You mus'n't mind Hawkins's ways, Miss Milly,"said another sympathizing miner. "There ain't a better man in camp thanthat theer Cy Hawkins--but he don't understand the ways o' the worldwith wimen. He hasn't mixed as much with society as the rest of us," headded, with an elaborate Chesterfieldian ease of manner; "but he meanswell." Meanwhile a few other sympathetic tunnelmen were impressing uponMr. Hawkins the necessity of the greatest attention to the invalid. "Itwon't do, Hawkins," they explained, "to let that there gal go back toSan Francisco and say, that, when she was sick and alone, the only manin Five Forks under whose roof she had rested, and at whose table shehad sat" (this was considered a natural but pardonable exaggeration ofrhetoric) "ever threw off on her; and it sha'n't be done. It ain't thesquare thing to Five Forks." And then the "Fool" would rush away to thevalley, and be received by Miss Milly with a certain reserve of mannerthat finally disappeared in a flush of color, some increased vivacity,and a pardonable coquetry. And so the days passed. Miss Milly grewbetter in health, and more troubled in mind; and Mr. Hawkins became moreand more embarrassed; and Five Forks smiled, and rubbed its hands,and waited for the approaching denoument. And then it came--but not,perhaps, in the manner that Five Forks had imagined.
It was a lovely afternoon in July that a party of Eastern tourists rodeinto Five Forks. They had just "done" the Valley of Big Things; and,there being one or two Eastern capitalists among the party, itwas deemed advisable that a proper knowledge of the practicalmining-resources of California should be added to their experienceof the merely picturesque in Nature. Thus far every thing had beensatisfactory; the amount of water which passed over the Fall was large,owing to a backward season; some snow still remained in the canyons nearthe highest peaks; they had ridden round one of the biggest trees, andthrough the prostrate trunk of another. To say that they were delightedis to express feebly the enthusiasm of these ladies and gentlemen, drunkwith the champagny hospitality of their entertainers, the utter noveltyof scene, and the dry, exhilarating air of the valley. One or two hadalready expressed themselves ready to live and die there; another hadwritten a glowing account to the Eastern press, depreciating all otherscenery in Europe and America; and, under these circumstances, it wasreasonably expected that Five Forks would do its duty, and equallyimpress the stranger after its own fashion.
Letters to this effect were sent from San Francisco by prominentcapitalists there; and, under the able superintendence of one of theiragents, the visitors were taken in hand, shown "what was to be seen,"carefully restrained from observing what ought not to be visible, and sokept in a blissful and enthusiastic condition. And so the graveyard ofFive Forks, in which but two of the occupants had died natural deaths;the dreary, ragged cabins on the hillsides, with their sad-eyed,cynical, broken-spirited occupants, toiling on day by day for amiserable pittance, and a fare that a self-respecting Eastern mechanicwould have scornfully rejected,--were not a part of the Easternvisitors' recollection. But the hoisting works and machinery of the"Blazing Star Tunnel Company" was,--the Blazing Star Tunnel Company,whose "gentlemanly superintendent" had received private informationfrom San Francisco to do the "proper thing" for the party. Wherefore thevaluable heaps of ore in the company's works were shown; the oblong barsof gold, ready for shipment, were playfully offered to the ladies whocould lift and carry them away unaided; and even the tunnel itself,gloomy, fateful, and peculiar, was shown as part of the experience; and,in the noble language of one correspondent, "The wealth of Five Forks,and the peculiar inducements that it offered to Eastern capitalists,"were established beyond a doubt. And then occurred a little incident,which, as an unbiassed spectator, I am free to say offered noinducements to anybody whatever, but which, for its bearing upon thecentral figure of this veracious chronicle, I cannot pass over.
It had become apparent to one or two more practical and sober-minded inthe party, that certain portions of the "Blazing Star" tunnel (owing,perhaps, to the exigencies of a flattering annual dividend) wereeconomically and imperfectly "shored" and supported, and were,consequently, unsafe, insecure, and to be avoided. Nevertheless, at atime when champagne corks were popping in dark corners, and enthusiasticvoices and happy laughter rang through the half-lighted levels andgalleries, there came a sudden and mysterious silence. A few lightsdashed swiftly by in the direction of a distant part of the gallery,and then there was a sudden sharp issuing of orders, and a dull, ominousrumble. Some of the visitors turned pale: one woman fainted.
Something had happened. What? "Nothing" (the speaker is fluent, butuneasy)--"one of the gentlemen, in trying to dislodge a 'specimen'from the wall, had knocked away a support. There had been a 'cave'--thegentleman was caught, and buried below his shoulders. It was all right,they'd get him out in a moment--only it required great care to keep fromextending the 'cave.' Didn't know his name. It was that little man, thehusband of that lively lady with the black eyes. Eh! Hullo, there! Stopher! For God's sake! Not that way! She'll fall from that shaft. She'llbe killed!"
But the lively lady was already gone. With staring black eyes,imploringly trying to pierce the gloom, with hands and feet that soughtto batter and break down the thick darkness, with incoherent cries andsupplications following the moving of ignis fatuus lights ahead, sheran, and ran swiftly!--ran over treacherous foundations, ran byyawning gulfs, ran past branching galleries and arches, ran wildly, randespairingly, ran blindly, and at last ran into the arms of the "Fool ofFive Forks."
In an instant she caught at his hand. "Oh, save him!" she cried. "Youbelong here; you know this dreadful place: bring me to him. Tell mewhere to go, and what to do, I implore you! Quick, he is dying! Come!"
He raised his eyes to hers, and then, with a sudden cry, dropped
therope and crowbar he was carrying, and reeled against the wall.
"Annie!" he gasped slowly. "Is it you?"
She caught at both his hands, brought her face to his with staring eyes,murmured, "Good God, Cyrus!" and sank upon her knees before him.
He tried to disengage the hand that she wrung with passionate entreaty.
"No, no! Cyrus, you will forgive me--you will forget the past! God hassent you here to-day. You will come with me. You will--you must--savehim!"
"Save who?" cried Cyrus hoarsely.
"My husband!"
The blow was so direct, so strong and overwhelming, that, even throughher own stronger and more selfish absorption, she saw it in the face ofthe man, and pitied him.
"I thought--you--knew--it," she faltered.
He did not speak, but looked at her with fixed, dumb eyes. And thenthe sound of distant voices and hurrying feet started her again intopassionate life. She once more caught his hand.
"O Cyrus, hear me! If you have loved me through all these years, youwill not fail me now. You must save him! You can! You are brave andstrong--you always were, Cyrus. You will save him, Cyrus, for my sake,for the sake of your love for me! You will--I know it. God bless you!"
She rose as if to follow him, but, at a gesture of command, she stoodstill. He picked up the rope and crowbar slowly, and in a dazed, blindedway, that, in her agony of impatience and alarm, seemed protractedto cruel infinity. Then he turned, and, raising her hand to his lips,kissed it slowly, looked at her again, and the next moment was gone.
He did not return; for at the end of the next half-hour, when they laidbefore her the half-conscious, breathing body of her husband, safe andunharmed, but for exhaustion and some slight bruises, she learned thatthe worst fears of the workmen had been realized. In releasing him, asecond cave had taken place. They had barely time to snatch away thehelpless body of her husband, before the strong frame of his rescuer,Cyrus Hawkins, was struck and smitten down in his place.
For two hours he lay there, crushed and broken-limbed, with a heavy beamlying across his breast, in sight of all, conscious and patient. For twohours they had labored around him, wildly, despairingly, hopefully, withthe wills of gods and the strength of giants; and at the end of thattime they came to an upright timber, which rested its base upon thebeam. There was a cry for axes, and one was already swinging in the air,when the dying man called to them feebly,--
"Don't cut that upright!"
"Why?"
"It will bring down the whole gallery with it."
"How?"
"It's one of the foundations of my house."
The axe fell from the workman's hand, and with a blanched face he turnedto his fellows. It was too true. They were in the uppermost gallery; andthe "cave" had taken place directly below the new house. After a pause,the "Fool" spoke again more feebly.
"The lady--quick!"
They brought her,--a wretched, fainting creature, with pallid face andstreaming eyes,--and fell back as she bent her face above him.
"It was built for you, Annie darling," he said in a hurried whisper,"and has been waiting up there for you and me all these long days. It'sdeeded to you, Annie; and you must--live there--with HIM! He will notmind that I shall be always near you; for it stands above--my grave."
And he was right. In a few minutes later, when he had passed away, theydid not move him, but sat by his body all night with a torch at his feetand head. And the next day they walled up the gallery as a vault; butthey put no mark or any sign thereon, trusting, rather, to the monument,that, bright and cheerful, rose above him in the sunlight of the hill.And those who heard the story said, "This is not an evidence of deathand gloom and sorrow, as are other monuments, but is a sign of life andlight and hope, wherefore shall all know that he who lies under it iswhat men call--'a fool'."