CHAPTER XV.
HE BECOMES ACQUAINTED WITH A CHICAGO WIDOW.
I came to my senses in one of the bedrooms of the Shantytown Hotel.There was only a partition between that and the other bedrooms ofbrown cotton cloth, and as I slowly became conscious of things aboutme, I heard two voices beyond the next curtain talking of my affairs.
"I reckon he won't know where the time's gone to when he comes tohimself ag'in. Lucky for him he didn't go up, like the old gentleman,in such small pieces as to never come down. I don't see, fur the lifeof me, what purvented. He was standin' right over the kag on which theold chap sot. Marakalous escape, that of the young lady. Beatseverything."
"You bet, pardner, 'twouldn't happen so once in a thousand times. Yousee, she was jist blowed over the ledge an' rolled down twenty orthirty feet, an' brought up on a soft spot--wa'n't hurt a particle.But how she does take on about her pop! S'pose you knew her brother'scome on fur her?"
"No."
"Yes; got here by the noon stage. They're reckoning to leaveShantytown immegitly. Less go down and see 'em off!"
They shuffled away.
I don't know whether my head ached, but I know my heart did. I was amurderer. Or, if not quite so bad as a deliberate murderer, I was, atthe very least, guilty of manslaughter. And why? Because I had notbeen able to overcome my wicked weakness. I felt sick of life, ofeverything--especially of the mines.
"I can never return to the scene of the accident," I thought.
I groaned and tossed, but it was the torture of my conscience, and notof my aching limbs. The doctor and others came in.
"How long shall I have to lie here?" I asked.
"Not many days; no bones are broken. Your head is injured and you arebadly bruised, that's all. You must keep quiet--you must not exciteyourself."
Excite myself! As if I could, for one moment, forget the respectableold capitalist whom I had first poisoned and then blown into tenthousand pieces through my folly. I had brain fever. It set in thatnight. For two weeks I raved deliriously; for two weeks I was doingthe things I ought not to have done--in imagination. I took a younglady skating, and slipped down with her on the ice, and broke herGrecian nose. I went to a grand reception, and tore the point laceflounce off of Mrs. Grant's train, put my handkerchief in my saucer,and my coffee-cup in my pocket. I was left to entertain a handsomeyoung lady, and all I could say was to cough and "Hem! hem!" until atlast she asked me if I had any particular article I would like hemmed.
I killed a baby by sitting down on it in a fit of embarrassment, whenasked by a neighbor to take a seat. I waltzed and waltzed and waltzedwith Blue-Eyes, and every time I turned I stepped on her toes with myheavy boots, until they must have been jelly in her little satinslippers, and finally we fell down-stairs, and I went out of thatfevered dream only to find myself again giving blazing kerosene to anestimable old gentleman, who swallowed it unsuspiciously, and then satdown on a powder keg, and we all blew up--up--up--and camedown--down--bump! I never want to have brain fever again--at least,not until I have conquered myself.
When I was once more rational, I resolved that a miner's life was toorough for me; and, as soon as I could be bolstered up in a corner ofthe coach, I set out to reach the railroad, where I was to take apalace-car for home. I gained strength rapidly during the change andexcitement of the journey; so that, the day before we were to reachChicago, I no longer remained prone in my berth, but, "clothed and inmy right mind," took my seat with the other passengers, looked aboutand tried to forget the past and to enjoy myself. At first, I had aseat to myself; but, at one of the stations, about two in theafternoon, a lady, dressed in deep black, and wearing a heavy crepeveil, which concealed her face, entered our car, and slipped quietlyin to the vacant half of my seat. She sat quite motionless, with herveil down. Every few moments a long, tremulous, heart-broken sighstirred this sable curtain which shut in my companion's face. I felt adeep sympathy for her, whoever she might be, old or young, pretty orugly. I inferred that she was a widow; I could hear that she was inaffliction; but I was far too diffident to invent any little courteousway of expressing my sympathy. In about half an hour, she put her veilto one side, and asked me, in a low, sweet, pathetic voice, if I hadany objection to drawing down the blind, as her veil smothered her,and she had wept so much that her eyes could not bear the strong lightof the afternoon sun. I drew down the blind--with such haste as topinch my fingers cruelly between the sash and the sill.
"Oh, I am _so_ sorry!" said she.
"It's of no consequence," I stammered, making a Toots of myself.
"Oh, but _it is_! and in my service too! Let me be your surgeon, sir,"and she took from her traveling-bag a small bottle of cologne, withwhich she drenched a delicate film of black-bordered handkerchief,and then wound the same around my aching fingers. "You are pale," shecontinued, slightly pressing my hand before releasing it--"ah, howsorry I am!"
"I am pale because I have been ill recently," I responded, consciousthat all my becoming pallor was changing to turkey-red.
"Ill?--oh, how sad! What a world of trouble we live in! Ill?--and soyoung--so hand----. Excuse me, I meant not to flatter you, but I haveseen so much sorrow myself. I am only twenty-two, and I've been awid--wid--wid--ow over a year."
She wiped away a tear with handkerchief No. 2, and smiled sadly in myface.
"Sorrow has aged her," I thought, for, although the blind was down,she looked to me nearer thirty than twenty-two.
Still, she was pretty, with dark eyes that looked into yours in awonderfully confiding way--melting, liquid, deep eyes, that even a manwho is perfectly self-possessed can not see to the bottom of soonenough for his own good. As for me, those eyes confused while theypleased me. The widow never noticed my embarrassment; but, the iceonce broken, talked on and on. She gave me, in soft, sweet, brokenaccents, her history--how she had been her mother's only pet, and hadmarried a rich Chicago broker, who had died in less than two years,leaving her alone--all alone--with plenty of money, plenty ofjewelry, a fine house, but alas, "no one to love her, none to caress,"as the song says, and the world a desert.
"But I can still love _a friend_," she added, with a melancholy smile."One as disinterested, as ignorant of the world as you, would pleaseme best. You must stop in Chicago," she said, giving me her cardbefore we parted. "Every traveler should spend a few days in ourwonderful city. Call on me, and I will have up my carriage and takeyou out to see the sights."
Need I say that I stopped in Chicago? or add that I went to call onthe fair widow? She took me out driving according to promise. I foundthat she was just the style of woman that suited me best. I wasbashful; she was not. I was silent; she could keep up the conversationwith very little aid from me. With such a woman as that I could getalong in life. She would always be willing to take the lead. All Iwould have to do would be to give her the reins, and she would keepthe team going. She would be willing to walk the first into church--tointerview the butcher and baker--to stand between me and the world. Awife like that would be some comfort to a bashful man. Besides, shewas rich! Had she not said it? I have seldom had a happier hour thanthat of our swift, exhilarating drive. The colored driver, gorgeous inhis handsome livery, kept his eyes and ears to himself. I lolled backin the luxurious carriage beside my charmer. I forgot the unhappyaccident of the blasting-powder--all the mortifications anddisappointments of my life. I reveled in bliss. For once, I hadnothing to do but be courted. How often had I envied the girls theirprivilege of keeping quiet and being made love to. How often had Isighed to be one of the sex who is popped to and does not have to pop.And now, this lovely, brilliant creature who sat beside me, havingbeen once married, and seeing my natural timidity, "knew how it washerself," and took on her own fair hands all the responsibility.
"Mr. Flutter," said she, "I know just how you feel--you want to ask meto marry you, but you are too bashful. Have I guessed right?"
I pressed her hand in speechless assent.
"Yes, my dear boy, I knew it. Well, this i
s leap-year, and I will notsee you sacrificed to your own timidity. I am yours, whenever youwish--to-morrow if you say so--yours forever. You shall have notrouble about it, I will speak to the Rev. Mr. Coalyard myself--I knowhim. When shall it be?--speak, dearest!"
I gasped out "to-morrow," and buried my blushing face on her shoulder.
For a moment her soft arms were twined around me--a moment only, forwe were on the open lake drive. Not more than ten seconds did thepretty widow embrace me, but that was time enough, as I learned to mysorrow, for her to extract my pocket-book, containing the five hundreddollars I still had remaining from the sale of my mining-stock, andnot one dollar of which did I ever see again.
The Blunders of a Bashful Man Page 15