CHAPTER XVIII
APPREHENDED
The pleasantest task which fell to Jessica's hands, during her hospitallife, was the distributing of flowers and fruits, almost daily sent bythe charitable for the comfort of the patients.
The nurses received and apportioned these gifts; and, carrying her big,tray-like basket, Lady Jess visited each ward and room in turn, adding tothe pretty offering some bright word of her own. For she now had thefreedom of the house and knew the occupant of each white bed better,even, than his or her attendant nurse. The quiet manner which she hadgained here, her ready help and loving sympathy, made her coming lookedfor eagerly; but the happiness she thus bestowed was more than returnedupon her own heart. Could her "boys" have seen her they would havebeen proud, but not surprised, for to the appreciative words his ownattendant gave his darling, Ephraim would instantly reply?
"'Course. What else could you expect? Didn't she have the finest manin the world for her father? and isn't her mother a lady? Isn't she,herself, the sweetest, lovingest, most unselfish child that ever lived?But it'll be meat to feed the 'boys' with, all these stories you'retelling me. They most worship her now, and after they listen to suchtalk a spell--h-m-m. The whole secret is just--love. That's what ourcaptain is made of; pure love. 'Twas a good thing for this old earthwhen she was born."
"But you'll spoil her among you, I fear."
"Well, you needn't. Little Jessica Trent can't be spoiled. 'Causethem same 'boys' would be the first ones to take any nonsense out ofher, at the first symptoms. She couldn't stand ridicule. It would breakher heart; but they'd give her ridicule and plenty of it if she put onsilly airs. You needn't be afraid for Lady Jess."
On that very day, after Antonio had left the hospital with his friends,or captors, as the case might prove. Jessica went through the buildingwith her tray of roses, and in the wing adjoining the accident ward sawa man lying in one of the hitherto empty rooms.
"A new patient. He must have been brought in to-day. I've never beento the new ones till I was told, but I hate to pass him by. I wonderif it would be wrong to ask him if he wished a flower! And how stillhe stays. Yet his eyes are very wide open and so round! He looks likesomebody I've seen--why, little Luis Garcia! 'Tis Luis himself, grownold and thin. For Luis' sake, then I'll try."
A nurse was sitting silent at the patient's bedside and toward her thechild turned an inquiring glance. The answer was a slight, affirmativenod. The attendant's thought was that it would please Lady Jess togive the rose and could do the patient no harm to receive it. Indeed,nothing earthly could harm him any more.
So Jessica stepped softly in and paused beside the cot. Her face was fullof pity and of a growing astonishment, for the nearer she beheld it themore startling was the sick man's likeness to a childish face hundredsof miles away.
Her stare brought the patient's own vacant gaze back to a consciousnessof things about him. He saw a yellow-haired girl looking curiously uponhim and extending toward him a half-blown rose. A fair and unexpectedvision in that place of pain, and he asked, half querulously:
"Who are you? An angel come to upbraid me before my time?"
"I'm Jessica Trent, of Sobrante ranch, in Paraiso d'Oro valley."
"W-h-a-t!"
The nurse bent forward, but he motioned her aside.
"Say that again."
"I'm just little Jessica Trent. That's all."
"All! Trent--Trent. Ah!"
"And you? Are you Luis Garcia's missing father?"
"Luis--Luis Garcia. Was it Luis, Ysandra called him?"
"Yes, yes. That was the name on the paper my father found pinned tothe baby's dress. The letter told that the baby's father had gone awaypromising to come back, but had never come. The mother had heard of mydear father's goodness to all who needed help, and she was on her way tohim when her strength gave out. So she died there in the canyon, and shesaid the baby's name was like the father's. I remember it all, becauseto us the 'Maria' seems like a girl's name, too. Luis Maria ManuelAlessandro Garcia."
The man's round eyes opened wider and wider. It seemed as if his glarepierced the child's very heart, and she drew back frightened. Thenurse motioned her to go, but at her first movement toward the doorthe patient extended his hands imploring:
"No. Not yet. My time is spent. Let me hear all--all. The child yourfather found--ah! me! Your father of all men! Did--did it live?"
"Of course it lived. He is a darling little fellow and he looks--helooks so like you that I knew you in a moment. He has the same wide browneyes, the same black curls, his eyebrows slant so, like yours, he isyour image. But he is the cutest little chap you ever saw. He is my ownbrother's age and they have grown up together, like twins, I guess. Itwould break Ned's heart to have you take him away from us. You won'tnow, will you?"
A pitiful smile spread over the pain-racked features, and the man glancedsignificantly toward the nurse. She smiled encouragingly upon him, buthe was not misled. After a moment of silence, during which Jessicaanxiously watched his drawn face, he spoke.
"Go, child. Your mission is done. Send a lawyer, quick. Quick. The man Iwronged--the savior of my son! A lawyer, quick. Bring the suit case--thecase! Let none open it but the child. Quick. Quick!"
Higher authority even than her own convinced the nurse that obedienceto his urgency was the only way now to allay the patient's risingexcitement. The accident which had crushed the lower part of his body,so that his life was but a question of hours, had left his head clear forthe present; and here, indeed, seemed a case for more than surgicaltreatment.
Fortunately, the needed "lawyer" was close at hand, waiting with thereporter and the half-distraught Antonio whose shriek of recognition hadbeen Luis Garcia's welcome to the hospital. Unceasingly, the managerhad declared that this was the man all three of them were seeking; hadinsisted upon returning to the ante-room of the hospital, and avowed thathe would never leave the spot until the "villain" had been apprehended.
"He has misled and cheated me. I, Antonio! He has all my money. Hehas the savings of my life, yes. He has all that I did not yet pay,of the crops so good, to the Senora Trent. More, more. That money--which,ah, me! He told me, yes, a thousand million times, that I, and not thatNew York company, to me alone was the inheritance of Paraiso d'Oro.My money was to prove it, that inheritance, yes. To me was the powerof attorney, was it not? of Cassius Trent, who was the so good man andthe so poor fool at business."
"Look out, there, neighbor! Speaking of fools and business, you don'tappear to have been so brilliant yourself," corrected Ninian, promptly.
Antonio continued, heedless of the interruption:
"He was the great banker, Garcia, no? What then? Who would so safe keepthe money from that far New York? With the master's wish I gave itto that bank. And the letters--_Caramba!_ So high, to one's knees,to one's waist I pile them, the letters! All wrote of his own hand. Allsay by-and-by, _manana_, he give me the perfect title and send backthat which belongs, after all expenses, no? To them in New York."
"A pretty scheme. You don't seem to have profited by it greatly, asyet."
"I, profit? But I am now the beggar, I, poor Antonio. This day I comefrom resting in the houses of my friends and I find--what do I find?The bank is not. The banker is not, yes. His house where he lived moreplain than our adobes at Sobrante, that house is closed. His man tellme this: 'He has gone away. One little, little trip, a journey. Acrossthe sea. He will come back. Have patience, Antonio.' But my money? mypapers? my inheritance so all but proved? Tush. He told me not that.'When he comes back you can ask him, himself.' So. Good. He has comeback. Here. I see him, sure. I----"
A summons to Mr. Hale cut short this fierce harangue, which had beenrepeated till their ears were tired.
The banker had come back, indeed, poor creature. By the very train onwhich he was to depart with his plunder--all rendered into the solidcash which would tell no tales, as he fancied--by this swift-movingjuggernaut he was overtaken and crushed down. A moment earlier he
wouldhave been in time. But in haste and by a misstep he had ended all hisearthly journeyings.
When the lawyer was called the reporter followed his friend and Antoniofollowed him, and when these three approached the little room in whichthe dying man lay, the nurse would have sent them back; but Garciahimself pleaded: "Let them be. What matters it how many hear or see?The dress-suit case. Bring it, and bring the child."
They obeyed and he bade them place the key in Jessica's small hand.
"Open it, little one."
But her fingers shook so that the nurse, in pity, pushed them from thelock and herself unfastened the heavily laden case. It contained noclothing, such as might have been looked for within; but rolls andpackets neatly tied.
"Open them, child."
"Oh! please! I do not want to; I am afraid!"
"Afraid, Jessica Trent? Do you not yet understand? That is money,money--of which your father stood accused before the world as havingstolen. Afraid to prove your father what you know him--an honest man!"cried Ninian in anger.
She understood him then, and in frantic haste obeyed. Roll after roll,till Mr. Hale said:
"Enough. His strength is failing. This scene is too much for him."
At that she pushed the gold away and, falling on her knees beside thebed, caught Luis Garcia's hand and covered it with kisses.
"Oh! thank you, Luis' father! God bless you, God take care of you!"
"Oh! the divine pity of childhood," murmured Ninian, huskily. "Sheforgets that it was he who wronged her in the fact that he has now sether right."
The sick man's face brightened, nor did he withdraw his hand.
"_You forgive me?_"
"Yes, yes."
"The little Luis. The son I never saw. What shall you tell him of hisfather?"
"That he was good to me, and that he suffered."
"More. Tell the boy this: I never knew he lived. I should have known, Ishould have searched. I did not. Ask him, too, to forgive me. And becauseof me, turn him not away."
The nurse motioned all the others to go out, and they went, NinianSharp himself standing guard over the dress-suit case the attendanthad relocked until it was once more safely deposited in the strong boxof the hospital, where even Antonio's greedy eyes could see it no longer.
But Jessica knelt on, awed and silent, yet now quite unafraid. And LuisGarcia still clasped her hand and fixed his fading gaze upon her pityingface.
"The mother--Ysandra. Where lies she now? Little one, do you know that?"
"Do I not? In the consecrated ground of the old mission itself. Withall the good dead priests sleeping about her. Rose vines cover her graveand my own mother tends them herself. Little Luis is made to water it,sometimes, though, for that is a good way to keep her memory green, mymother says. Near by is where my father rests. Would--would you wish tosleep there, too, beside them both, and where Luis could bring flowersto you as to her?"
"I may? You--are--willing? Would--your mother--so kind--little Luis----"
"My mother pities and helps all who suffer. You suffer, poor man, andI wish that she were here to tell you 'yes' herself."
But he had closed his eyes and she could not know if he had heard her,though she was glad to see that the look of pain had almost left hisfeatures. She did not speak again but sat quite still until, at last,her hand grew numb and she turned toward the nurse, whispering:
"Can I move it? Will it disturb him? He seems to be asleep."
The nurse bent over her patient, then gently answered:
"Yes, darling. Your task is over. Nothing will ever trouble him again.He is at peace--_asleep_."
Jessica Trent: Her Life on a Ranch Page 18