by Bret Harte
CHAPTER V.
CLOUDS AND CHANGE.
The earthquake shock, although the first experienced by the Americans,had been a yearly phenomenon to the people of Todos Santos, and was soslight as to leave little impression upon either the low adobe walls ofthe pueblo or the indolent population. "If it's a provision of Naturefor shaking up these Rip Van Winkle Latin races now and then, it's adead failure, as far as Todos Santos is concerned," Crosby had said,with a yawn. "Brace, who's got geology on the brain ever since hestruck cinnabar ore, says he isn't sure the Injins ain't right when theybelieve that the Pacific Ocean used to roll straight up to the Presidio,and there wasn't any channel--and that reef of rocks was upheaved intheir time. But what's the use of it? it never really waked them up.""Perhaps they're waiting for another kind of earthquake," Winslow hadresponded sententiously.
In six weeks it had been forgotten, except by three people--Miss Keene,James Hurlstone, and Padre Esteban. Since Hurlstone had parted withMiss Keene on that memorable afternoon he had apparently lapsed into hisformer reserve. Without seeming to avoid her timid advances, he mether seldom, and then only in the presence of the Padre or Mrs. Markham.Although uneasy at the deprivation of his society, his present shynessdid not affect her as it had done at first: she knew it was no longerindifference; she even fancied she understood it from what had been herown feelings. If he no longer raised his eyes to hers as frankly as hehad that day, she felt a more delicate pleasure in the consciousness ofhis lowered eyelids when they met, and the instinct that told herwhen his melancholy glance followed her unobserved. The sex of theselovers--if we may call them so who had never exchanged a word oflove--seemed to be changed. It was Miss Keene who now sought him with arespectful and frank admiration; it was Hurlstone who now tried toavoid it with a feminine dread of reciprocal display. Once she had evenadverted to the episode of the cross. They were standing under the archof the refectory door, waiting for Padre Esteban, and looking towardsthe sea.
"Do you think we were ever in any real danger, down there, on theshore--that day?" she said timidly.
"No; not from the sea," he replied, looking at her with a half defiantresolution.
"From what then?" she asked, with a naivete that was yet a littleconscious.
"Do you remember the children giving you their offerings that day?" heasked abruptly.
"I do," she replied, with smiling eyes.
"Well, it appears that it is the custom for the betrothed couples tocome to the cross to exchange their vows. They mistook us for lovers."
All the instinctive delicacy of Miss Keene's womanhood resented the rudeinfelicity of this speech and the flippant manner of its utterance. Shedid not blush, but lifted her clear eyes calmly to his.
"It was an unfortunate mistake," she said coldly, "the more so as theywere your pupils. Ah! here is Father Esteban," she added, with a markedtone of relief, as she crossed over to the priest's side.
When Father Esteban returned to the refectory that evening, Hurlstonewas absent. When it grew later, becoming uneasy, the good Father soughthim in the garden. At the end of the avenue of pear-trees there was abreak in the sea-wall, and here, with his face to the sea, Hurlstone wasleaning gloomily. Father Esteban's tread was noiseless, and he had laidhis soft hand on the young man's shoulder before Hurlstone was awareof his presence. He started slightly, his gloomy eyes fell before thepriest's.
"My son," said the old man gravely, "this must go on no longer."
"I don't understand you," Hurlstone replied coldly.
"Do not try to deceive yourself, nor me. Above all, do not try todeceive HER. Either you are or are not in love with this countrywomanof yours. If you are not, my respect for her and my friendship for youprompts me to save you both from a foolish intimacy that may ripen intoa misplaced affection; if you are already in love with her"--
"I have never spoken a word of love to her!" interrupted Hurlstonequickly. "I have even tried to avoid her since"--
"Since you found that you loved her! Ah, foolish boy! and you think thatbecause the lips speak not, the passions of the heart are stilled! Doyou think your silence in her presence is not a protestation that she,even she, child as she is, can read, with the cunning of her sex?"
"Well--if I am in love with her, what then?" said Hurlstone doggedly."It is no crime to love a pure and simple girl. Am I not free? Youyourself, in yonder church, told me"--
"Silence, Diego," said the priest sternly. "Silence, before you utterthe thought that shall disgrace you to speak and me to hear!"
"Forgive me, Father Esteban," said the young man hurriedly, graspingboth hands of the priest. "Forgive me--I am mad--distracted--but I swearto you I only meant"--
"Hush!" interrupted the priest more gently. "So; that will do." Hestopped, drew out his snuff-box, rapped the lid, and took a pinch ofsnuff slowly. "We will not recur to that point. Then you have told herthe story of your life?"
"No; but I will, She shall know all--everything--before I utter a wordof love to her."
"Ah! bueno! muy bueno!" said the Padre, wiping his nose ostentatiously."Ah! let me see! Then, when we have shown her that we cannot possiblymarry her, we will begin to make love to her! Eh, eh! that is theAmerican fashion. Ah, pardon!" he continued, in response to a gestureof protestation from Hurlstone; "I am wrong. It is when we have told herthat we cannot marry her as a Protestant, that we will make love as aCatholic. Is that it?"
"Hear me," said Hurlstone passionately. "You have saved me from madnessand, perhaps, death. Your care--your kindness--your teachings have givenme life again. Don't blame me, Father Esteban, if, in casting off my oldself, you have given me hopes of a new and fresher life--of"--
"A newer and fresher love, you would say," said the Padre, with a sadsmile. "Be it so. You will at least do justice to the old priest, whenyou remember that he never pressed you to take vows that would haveprevented this forever."
"I know it," said Hurlstone, taking the old man's hand. "And you willremember, too, that I was happy and contented before this came upon me.Tell me what I shall do. Be my guide--my friend, Father Esteban. Put mewhere I was a few months ago--before I learned to love her."
"Do you mean it, Diego?" said the old man, grasping his hand tightly,and fixing his eyes upon him.
"I do."
"Then listen to me, for it is my turn to speak. When, eight months ago,you sought the shelter of that blessed roof, it was for refuge from awoman that had cursed your life. It was given you. You would leave itnow to commit an act that would bring another woman, as mad as yourself,clamoring at its doors for protection from YOU. For what you areproposing to this innocent girl is what you accepted from the older andwickeder woman. You have been cursed because a woman divided for youwhat was before God an indivisible right; and you, Diego, would nowredivide that with another, whom you dare to say you LOVE! You would usethe opportunity of her helplessness and loneliness here to convinceher; you would tempt her with sympathy, for she is unhappy; withcompanionship, for she has no longer the world to choose from--witheverything that should make her sacred from your pursuit."
"Enough," said Hurlstone hoarsely; "say no more. Only I implore you tellme what to do now to save her. I will--if you tell me to do it--leaveher forever."
"Why should YOU go?" said the priest quietly. "HER absence will besufficient."
"HER absence?" echoed Hurlstone.
"Hers alone. The conditions that brought YOU here are unchanged. Youare still in need of an asylum from the world and the wife you haverepudiated. Why should you abandon it? For the girl, there is no causewhy she should remain--beyond yourself. She has a brother whom sheloves--who wants her--who has the right to claim her at any time. Shewill go to him."
"But how?"
"That has been my secret, and will be my sacrifice to you, Diego, myson. I have foreseen all this; I have expected it from the day thatgirl sent you her woman's message, that was half a challenge, fromher school--I have known it from the day you walked together on thesea-shore. I w
as blind before that--for I am weak in my way, too, andI had dreamed of other things. God has willed it otherwise." He paused,and returning the pressure of Hurlstone's hand, went on. "My secret andmy sacrifice for you is this. For the last two hundred years the Churchhas had a secret and trusty messenger from the See at Guadalajara--ina ship that touches here for a few hours only every three years. Herarrival and departure is known only to myself and my brothers of theCouncil. By this wisdom and the provision of God, the integrity ofthe Holy Church and the conversion of the heathen have been maintainedwithout interruption and interference. You know now, my son, why yourcomrades were placed under surveillance; why it was necessary that thepeople should believe in a political conspiracy among yourselves,rather than the facts as they existed, which might have bred a dangerouscuriosity among them. I have given you our secret, Diego--that is but apart of my sacrifice. When that ship arrives, and she is expecteddaily, I will secretly place Miss Keene and her friend on board, withexplanatory letters to the Archbishop, and she will be assisted torejoin her brother. It will be against the wishes of the Council; but mywill," continued the old man, with a gesture of imperiousness, "is thewill of the Church, and the law that overrides all."
He had stopped, with a strange fire in his eyes. It still continued toburn as he went on rapidly,--
"You will understand the sacrifice I am making in telling you this, whenyou know that I could have done all that I propose without your leave orhindrance. Yes, Diego; I had but to stretch out my hand thus, and thatfoolish fire-brand of a heretic muchacha would have vanished from TodosSantos forever. I could have left you in your fool's paradise, and onemorning you would have found her gone. I should have condoled with you,and consoled you, and you would have forgotten her as you did the other.I should not have hesitated; it is the right of the Church through alltime to break through those carnal ties without heed of the sufferingflesh, and I ought to have done so. This, and this alone, would havebeen worthy of Las Casas and Junipero Serra! But I am weak and old--Iam no longer fit for His work. Far better that the ship which takes heraway should bring back my successor and one more worthy Todos Santosthan I."
He stopped, his eyes dimmed, he buried his face in his hands.
"You have done right, Father Esteban," said Hurlstone, gently puttinghis arm round the priest's shoulders, "and I swear to you your secret isas safe as if you had never revealed it to me. Perhaps," he added, witha sigh, "I should have been happier if I had not known it--if she hadpassed out of my life as mysteriously as she had entered it; but youwill try to accept my sacrifice as some return for yours. I shall seeher no more."
"But will you swear it?" said the priest eagerly. "Will you swear thatyou will not even seek her to say farewell; for in that moment thewretched girl may shake your resolution?"
"I shall not see her," repeated the young man slowly.
"But if she asks an interview," persisted the priest, "on the pretenseof having your advice?"
"She will not," returned Hurlstone, with a half bitter recollection oftheir last parting. "You do not know her pride."
"Perhaps," said the priest musingly. "But I have YOUR word, Diego. Andnow let us return to the Mission, for there is much to prepare, and youshall assist me."
Meantime, Hurlstone was only half right in his estimate of Miss Keene'sfeelings, although the result was the same. The first shock to herdelicacy in his abrupt speech had been succeeded by a renewal of heruneasiness concerning his past life or history. While she would, in herunselfish attachment for him, have undoubtingly accepted any explanationhe might have chosen to give her, his continued reserve and avoidance ofher left full scope to her imaginings. Rejecting any hypothesis of hishistory except that of some unfortunate love episode, she began to thinkthat perhaps he still loved this nameless woman. Had anything occurredto renew his affection? It was impossible, in their isolated condition,that he would hear from her. But perhaps the priest might have been aconfidant of his past, and had recalled the old affection in rivalry ofher? Or had she herself been unfortunate through any idle word to reopenthe wound? Had there been any suggestion?--she checked herself suddenlyat a thought that benumbed and chilled her!--perhaps that happy hour atthe cross might have reminded him of some episode with another? That wasthe real significance of his rude speech. With this first taste of thepoison of jealousy upon her virgin lips, she seized the cup and drank iteagerly. Ah, well--he should keep his blissful recollections of thepast undisturbed by her. Perhaps he might even see--though SHE had nopast--that her present life might be as disturbing to him! She recalled,with a foolish pleasure, his solitary faint sneer at the devotion ofthe Commander's Secretary. Why shouldn't she, hereafter, encouragethat devotion as well as that sneer from this complacently beloved Mr.Hurlstone? Why should he be so assured of her past? The fair andgentle reader who may be shocked at this revelation of Eleanor Keene'scharacter will remember that she has not been recorded as an angel inthese pages--but as a very human, honest, inexperienced girl, for thefirst time struggling with the most diplomatic, Machiavellian, andhypocritical of all the passions.
In pursuance of this new resolution, she determined to accept aninvitation from Mrs. Markham to accompany her and the Commander toa reception at the Alcalde's house--the happy Secretary being of theparty. Mrs. Markham, who was under promise to the Comandante not toreveal his plan for the escape of herself and Miss Keene until thearrival of the expected transport, had paid little attention to the latevagaries of her friend, and had contented herself by once saying, witha marked emphasis, that the more free they kept themselves from anyentanglements with other people, the more prepared they would be for ACHANGE.
"Perhaps it's just as well not to be too free, even with those Jesuitsover at the Mission. Your brother, you know, might not like it."
"THOSE JESUITS!" repeated Miss Keene indignantly. "Father Esteban, tobegin with, is a Franciscan, and Mr. Hurlstone is as orthodox as you orI."
"Don't be too sure of that, my dear," returned Mrs. Markhamsententiously. "Heaven only knows what disguises they assume. Why,Hurlstone and the priest are already as thick as two peas; and you can'tmake me believe they didn't know of each other before we came here. Hewas the first one ashore, you remember, before the mutiny; and wheredid he turn up?--at the Mission, of course! And have you forgotten thatsleepwalking affair--all Jesuitical! Why, poor dear Markham used to saywe were surrounded by ramifications of that society--everywhere. Thevery waiter at your hotel table might belong to the Order."
The hour of the siesta was just past, and the corridor and gardens ofthe Alcalde's house were grouped with friends and acquaintances asthe party from the Presidio entered. Mrs. Brimmer, who had apparentlyeffected a temporary compromise with her late instincts of propriety,was still doing the honors of the Alcalde's house, and had once moreassumed the Mexican dishabille, even to the slight exposure of hersmall feet, stockingless, in white satin slippers. The presence of theComandante and his Secretary guaranteed the two ladies of their party areception at least faultless in form and respect, whatever may have beenthe secret feelings of the hostess and her friends. The Alcalde receivedMrs. Markham and Miss Keene with unruffled courtesy, and conducted themto the place of honor beside him.
As Eleanor Keene, slightly flushed and beautiful in her unwonted nervousexcitement, took her seat, a flutter went around the corridor, and, withthe single exception of Dona Isabel, an almost imperceptible drawingtogether of the other ladies, in offensive alliance. Miss Keene hadnever abandoned her own style of dress; and that afternoon her delicateand closely-fitting white muslin, gathered in at the waist with a broadblue belt of ribbon, seemed to accentuate somewhat unflatteringly thetropical neglige of Mrs. Brimmer and Miss Chubb. Brace, who was inattendance, with Crosby, on the two Ramirez girls, could not help beinguneasily conscious of this, in addition to the awkwardness of meetingMiss Keene after the transfer of his affections elsewhere. Nor was hisembarrassment relieved by Crosby's confidences to him, in a half audiblewhisper,--
"I
say, old man, after all, the regular straight-out American style laysover all their foreign flops and fandoodles. I wonder what old Brimmerwould say to his wife's full-dress nightgown--eh?"
But at this moment the long-drawn, slightly stridulous utterances ofMrs. Brimmer rose through the other greetings like a lazy east wind.
"I shall never forgive the Commander for making the Presidio soattractive to you, dear Miss Keene, that you cannot really find time tosee your own countrymen. Though, of course, you're not to blame for notcoming to see two frights as we must look--not having been educated tobe able to do up our dresses in that faultless style--and perhaps nothaving the entire control over an establishment like you; yet, I supposethat, even if the Alcalde did give us carte blanche of the laundry HERE,we couldn't do it, unaided even by Mrs. Markham. Yes, dear; you must letme compliment you on your skill, and the way you make things last. Asfor me and Miss Chubb, we've only found our things fit to be given awayto the poor of the Mission. But I suppose even that charity would lookas shabby to you as our clothes, in comparison with the really goodmissionary work you and Mr. Hurlstone--or is it Mr. Brace?--I alwaysconfound your admirers, my dear--are doing now. At least, so says thatgood Father Esteban."
But with the exception of the Alcalde and Miss Chubb, Mrs. Brimmer'swords fell on unheeding ears, and Miss Keene did not prejudice thetriumph of her own superior attractions by seeming to notice Mrs.Brimmer's innuendo. She answered briefly, and entered into livelyconversation with Crosby and the Secretary, holding the hand of DonaIsabel in her own, as if to assure her that she was guiltless of anydesign against her former admirer. This was quite unnecessary, as thegentle Isabel, after bidding Brace, with a rap on the knuckles, to "goand play," contented herself with curling up like a kitten beside MissKeene, and left that gentleman to wander somewhat aimlessly in thepatio.
Nevertheless, Miss Keene, whose eyes and ears were nervously alert, andwho had indulged a faint hope of meeting Padre Esteban and hearing newsof Hurlstone, glanced from time to time towards the entrance of thepatio. A singular presentiment that some outcome of this present visitwould determine her relations with Hurlstone had already possessed her.Consequently she was conscious, before it had attracted the attentionof the others, of some vague stirring in the plaza beyond. Suddenlythe clatter of hoofs was heard before the gateway. There was a moment'spause of dismounting, a gruff order given in Spanish, and the nextmoment three strangers entered the patio.
They were dressed in red shirts, their white trousers tucked in highboots, and wore slouched hats. They were so travel-stained, dusty, andunshaven, that their features were barely distinguishable. One, whoappeared to be the spokesman of the party, cast a perfunctory glancearound the corridor, and, in fluent Spanish, began with the mechanicalair of a man repeating some formula,--
"We are the bearers of a despatch to the Comandante of Todos Santos fromthe Governor of Mazatlan. The officer and the escort who came with usare outside the gate. We have been told that the Comandante is in thishouse. The case is urgent, or we would not intrude"--
He was stopped by the voice of Mrs. Markham from the corridor. "Well,I don't understand Spanish much--I may be a fool, or crazy, or perhapsboth--but if that isn't James Markham's VOICE, I'll bet a cooky!"
The three strangers turned quickly toward the corridor. The next momentthe youngest of their party advanced eagerly towards Miss Keene, who hadarisen with a half frightened joy, and with the cry of "Why, it's Nell!"ran towards her. The third man came slowly forward as Mrs. Brimmerslipped hastily from the hammock and stood erect.
"In the name of goodness, Barbara," said Mr. Brimmer, closing upon her,in a slow, portentous whisper, "where ARE your stockings?"