The Virginian: A Horseman of the Plains

by Owen Wister

  XXI. IN A STATE OF SIN

  Thunder sat imminent upon the missionary's brow. Many were to be at hismercy soon. But for us he had sunshine still. "I am truly sorry to beturning you upside down," he said importantly. "But it seems the bestplace for my service." He spoke of the tables pushed back and the chairsgathered in the hall, where the storm would presently break upon thecongregation. "Eight-thirty?" he inquired.

  This was the hour appointed, and it was only twenty minutes off. Wethrew the unsmoked fractions of our cigars away, and returned to offerour services to the ladies. This amused the ladies. They had donewithout us. All was ready in the hall.

  "We got the cook to help us," Mrs. Ogden told me, "so as not todisturb your cigars. In spite of the cow-boys, I still recognize my owncountry."

  "In the cook?" I rather densely asked.

  "Oh, no! I don't have a Chinaman. It's in the length of after-dinnercigars."

  "Had you been smoking," I returned, "you would have found them shortthis evening."

  "You make it worse," said the lady; "we have had nothing but Dr. MacBride."

  "We'll share him with you now," I exclaimed.

  "Has he announced his text? I've got one for him," said Molly Wood,joining us. She stood on tiptoe and spoke it comically in our ears. "'Isaid in my haste, All men are liars.'" This made us merry as we stoodamong the chairs in the congested hall.

  I left the ladies, and sought the bunk house. I had heard the cheers,but I was curious also to see the men, and how they were taking it.There was but little for the eye. There was much noise in the room. Theywere getting ready to come to church,--brushing their hair, shaving, andmaking themselves clean, amid talk occasionally profane and continuouslydiverting.

  "Well, I'm a Christian, anyway," one declared.

  "I'm a Mormon, I guess," said another.

  "I belong to the Knights of Pythias," said a third.

  "I'm a Mohammedist," said a fourth; "I hope I ain't goin' to hearnothin' to shock me."

  And they went on with their joking. But Trampas was out of the joking.He lay on his bed reading a newspaper, and took no pains to lookpleasant. My eyes were considering him when the blithe Scipio came in.

  "Don't look so bashful," said he. "There's only us girls here."

  He had been helping the Virginian move his belongings from the bunkhouse over to the foreman's cabin. He himself was to occupy theVirginian's old bed here. "And I hope sleepin' in it will bring me someof his luck," said Scipio. "Yu'd ought to've seen us when he told us inhis quiet way. Well," Scipio sighed a little, "it must feel good to haveyour friends glad about you."

  "Especially Trampas," said I. "The Judge knows about that," I added.

  "Knows, does he? What's he say?" Scipio drew me quickly out of the bunkhouse.

  "Says it's no business of his."

  "Said nothing but that?" Scipio's curiosity seemed strangely intense."Made no suggestion? Not a thing?"

  "Not a thing. Said he didn't want to know and didn't care."

  "How did he happen to hear about it?" snapped Scipio. "You told him!"he immediately guessed. "He never would." And Scipio jerked his thumbat the Virginian, who appeared for a moment in the lighted window of thenew quarters he was arranging. "He never would tell," Scipio repeated."And so the Judge never made a suggestion to him," he muttered, noddingin the darkness. "So it's just his own notion. Just like him, too, cometo think of it. Only I didn't expect--well, I guess he could surprise meany day he tried."

  "You're surprising me now," I said. "What's it all about?"

  "Oh, him and Trampas."

  "What? Nothing surely happened yet?" I was as curious as Scipio hadbeen.

  "No, not yet. But there will."

  "Great Heavens, man! when?"

  "Just as soon as Trampas makes the first move," Scipio replied easily.

  I became dignified. Scipio had evidently been told things by theVirginian.

  "Yes, I up and asked him plumb out," Scipio answered. "I was liftin' histrunk in at the door, and I couldn't stand it no longer, and I asked himplumb out. 'Yu've sure got Trampas where yu' want him.' That's whatI said. And he up and answered and told me. So I know." At this pointScipio stopped; I was not to know.

  "I had no idea," I said, "that your system held so much meanness."

  "Oh, it ain't meanness!" And he laughed ecstatically.

  "What do you call it, then?"

  "He'd call it discretion," said Scipio. Then he became serious. "It'stoo blamed grand to tell yu'. I'll leave yu' to see it happen. Keeparound, that's all. Keep around. I pretty near wish I didn't know itmyself."

  What with my feelings at Scipio's discretion, and my human curiosity, Iwas not in that mood which best profits from a sermon. Yet even thoughmy expectations had been cruelly left quivering in mid air, I was notsure how much I really wanted to "keep around." You will thereforeunderstand how Dr. MacBride was able to make a prayer and to readScripture without my being conscious of a word that he had uttered. Itwas when I saw him opening the manuscript of his sermon that I suddenlyremembered I was sitting, so to speak, in church, and began once more tothink of the preacher and his congregation. Our chairs were in thefront line, of course; but, being next the wall, I could easily seethe cow-boys behind me. They were perfectly decorous. If Mrs. Ogden hadlooked for pistols, daredevil attitudes, and so forth, she must havebeen greatly disappointed. Except for their weather-beaten cheeks andeyes, they were simply American young men with mustaches and without,and might have been sitting, say, in Danbury, Connecticut. Even Trampasmerged quietly with the general placidity. The Virginian did not, to besure, look like Danbury, and his frame and his features showed outof the mass; but his eyes were upon Dr. MacBride with a creamlikepropriety.

  Our missionary did not choose Miss Wood's text. He made his selectionfrom another of the Psalms; and when it came, I did not dare to look atanybody; I was much nearer unseemly conduct than the cow-boys. Dr. MacBridegave us his text sonorously, "'They are altogether become filthy;There is none of them that doeth good, no, not one.'" His eye showed usplainly that present company was not excepted from this. He repeated thetext once more, then, launching upon his discourse, gave none of us aray of hope.

  I had heard it all often before; but preached to cow-boys it took ona new glare of untimeliness, of grotesque obsoleteness--as if some oneshould say, "Let me persuade you to admire woman," and forthwith holdout her bleached bones to you. The cow-boys were told that not only theycould do no good, but that if they did contrive to, it would not helpthem. Nay, more: not only honest deeds availed them nothing, but even ifthey accepted this especial creed which was being explained to them asnecessary for salvation, still it might not save them. Their sin wasindeed the cause of their damnation, yet, keeping from sin, they mightnevertheless be lost. It had all been settled for them not only beforethey were born, but before Adam was shaped. Having told them this, heinvited them to glorify the Creator of the scheme. Even if damned, theymust praise the person who had made them expressly for damnation. Thatis what I heard him prove by logic to these cow-boys. Stone upon stonehe built the black cellar of his theology, leaving out its beautifulpark and the sunshine of its garden. He did not tell them the splendorof its past, the noble fortress for good that it had been, how its tonichad strengthened generations of their fathers. No; wrath he spoke of,and never once of love. It was the bishop's way, I knew well, to holdcow-boys by homely talk of their special hardships and temptations.And when they fell he spoke to them of forgiveness and brought themencouragement. But Dr. MacBride never thought once of the lives ofthese waifs. Like himself, like all mankind, they were invisible dots increation; like him, they were to feel as nothing, to be swept up in thepotent heat of his faith. So he thrust out to them none of the sweet butall the bitter of his creed, naked and stern as iron. Dogma was his allin all, and poor humanity was nothing but flesh for its canons.

  Thus to kill what chance he had for being of use seemed to me moredeplorable than it did evidently to them. Their atte
ntion merelywandered. Three hundred years ago they would have been frightened; butnot in this electric day. I saw Scipio stifling a smile when it came tothe doctrine of original sin. "We know of its truth," said Dr. MacBride,"from the severe troubles and distresses to which infants are liable,and from death passing upon them before they are capable of sinning."Yet I knew he was a good man; and I also knew that if a missionary is tobe tactless, he might almost as well be bad.

  I said their attention wandered, but I forgot the Virginian. At firsthis attitude might have been mere propriety. One can look respectfullyat a preacher and be internally breaking all the commandments. But evenwith the text I saw real attention light in the Virginian's eye. Andkeeping track of the concentration that grew on him with each minutemade the sermon short for me. He missed nothing. Before the end his gazeat the preacher had become swerveless. Was he convert or critic? Convertwas incredible. Thus was an hour passed before I had thought of time.

  When it was over we took it variously. The preacher was genial and spokeof having now broken ground for the lessons that he hoped to instil.He discoursed for a while about trout-fishing and about the rumoreduneasiness of the Indians northward where he was going. It was plainthat his personal safety never gave him a thought. He soon bade us goodnight. The Ogdens shrugged their shoulders and were amused. That wastheir way of taking it. Dr. MacBride sat too heavily on the Judge'sshoulders for him to shrug them. As a leading citizen in the Territoryhe kept open house for all comers. Policy and good nature made him bidwelcome a wide variety of travellers. The cow-boy out of employmentfound bed and a meal for himself and his horse, and missionaries hadbefore now been well received at Sunk Creek Ranch.

  "I suppose I'll have to take him fishing," said the Judge, ruefully.

  "Yes, my dear," said his wife, "you will. And I shall have to make histea for six days."

  "Otherwise," Ogden suggested, "it might be reported that you wereenemies of religion."

  "That's about it," said the Judge. "I can get on with most people. Butelephants depress me."

  So we named the Doctor "Jumbo," and I departed to my quarters.

  At the bunk house, the comments were similar but more highly salted. Themen were going to bed. In spite of their outward decorum at the service,they had not liked to be told that they were "altogether become filthy."It was easy to call names; they could do that themselves. And theyappealed to me, several speaking at once, like a concerted piece atthe opera: "Say, do you believe babies go to hell?"--"Ah, of course hedon't."--"There ain't no hereafter, anyway."--"Ain't there?"--"Whotold yu'?"--"Same man as told the preacher we were all a sifted set ofsons-of-guns."--"Well, I'm going to stay a Mormon."--"Well, I'm goingto quit fleeing from temptation."--"that's so! Better get it in theneck after a good time than a poor one." And so forth. Their wit was notextreme, yet I should like Dr. MacBride to have heard it. One fellow puthis natural soul pretty well into words, "If I happened to learn whatthey had predestinated me to do, I'd do the other thing, just to show'em!"

  And Trampas? And the Virginian? They were out of it. The Virginian hadgone straight to his new abode. Trampas lay in his bed, not asleep, andsullen as ever.

  "He ain't got religion this trip," said Scipio to me.

  "Did his new foreman get it?" I asked.

  "Huh! It would spoil him. You keep around that's all. Keep around."

  Scipio was not to be probed; and I went, still baffled, to my repose.

  No light burned in the cabin as I approached its door.

  The Virginian's room was quiet and dark; and that Dr. MacBride slumberedwas plainly audible to me, even before I entered. Go fishing with him!I thought, as I undressed. And I selfishly decided that the Judge mighthave this privilege entirely to himself. Sleep came to me fairlysoon, in spite of the Doctor. I was wakened from it by my bed's beingjolted--not a pleasant thing that night. I must have started. And itwas the quiet voice of the Virginian that told me he was sorry to haveaccidentally disturbed me. This disturbed me a good deal more. Buthis steps did not go to the bunk house, as my sensational mind hadsuggested. He was not wearing much, and in the dimness he seemed tallerthan common. I next made out that he was bending over Dr. MacBride. Thedivine at last sprang upright.

  "I am armed," he said. "Take care. Who are you?"

  "You can lay down your gun, seh. I feel like my spirit was going to bearwitness. I feel like I might get an enlightening."

  He was using some of the missionary's own language. The baffling I hadbeen treated to by Scipio melted to nothing in this. Did living menpetrify, I should have changed to mineral between the sheets. The Doctorgot out of bed, lighted his lamp, and found a book; and the two retiredinto the Virginian's room, where I could hear the exhortations as Ilay amazed. In time the Doctor returned, blew out his lamp, and settledhimself. I had been very much awake, but was nearly gone to sleep again,when the door creaked and the Virginian stood by the Doctor's side.

  "Are you awake, seh?"

  "What? What's that? What is it?"

  "Excuse me, seh. The enemy is winning on me. I'm feeling less inwardopposition to sin."

  The lamp was lighted, and I listened to some further exhortations.They must have taken half an hour. When the Doctor was in bed again, Ithought that I heard him sigh. This upset my composure in the dark;but I lay face downward in the pillow, and the Doctor was soon againsnoring. I envied him for a while his faculty of easy sleep. But I musthave dropped off myself; for it was the lamp in my eyes that now wakedme as he came back for the third time from the Virginian's room. Beforeblowing the light out he looked at his watch, and thereupon I inquiredthe hour of him.

  "Three," said he.

  I could not sleep any more now, and I lay watching the darkness.

  "I'm afeared to be alone!" said the Virginian's voice presently in thenext room. "I'm afeared." There was a short pause, and then he shoutedvery loud, "I'm losin' my desire afteh the sincere milk of the Word!"

  "What? What's that? What?" The Doctor's cot gave a great crack as hestarted up listening, and I put my face deep in the pillow.

  "I'm afeared! I'm afeared! Sin has quit being bitter in my belly."

  "Courage, my good man." The Doctor was out of bed with his lamp again,and the door shut behind him. Between them they made it long this time.I saw the window become gray; then the corners of the furniture growvisible; and outside, the dry chorus of the blackbirds began to fill thedawn. To these the sounds of chickens and impatient hoofs in the stablewere added, and some cow wandered by loudly calling for her calf. Next,some one whistling passed near and grew distant. But although the coldhue that I lay staring at through the window warmed and changed, theDoctor continued working hard over his patient in the next room. Only aword here and there was distinct; but it was plain from the Virginian'sfewer remarks that the sin in his belly was alarming him less. Yes, theymade this time long. But it proved, indeed, the last one. And thoughsome sort of catastrophe was bound to fall upon us, it was myself whoprecipitated the thing that did happen.

  Day was wholly come. I looked at my own watch, and it was six. I hadbeen about seven hours in my bed, and the Doctor had been about sevenhours out of his. The door opened, and he came in with his book andlamp. He seemed to be shivering a little, and I saw him cast a longingeye at his couch. But the Virginian followed him even as he blew outthe now quite superfluous light. They made a noticeable couple in theirunderclothes: the Virginian with his lean racehorse shanks running toa point at his ankle, and the Doctor with his stomach and his fatsedentary calves.

  "You'll be going to breakfast and the ladies, seh, pretty soon," saidthe Virginian, with a chastened voice. "But I'll worry through the daysomehow without yu'. And to-night you can turn your wolf loose on meagain."

  Once more it was no use. My face was deep in the pillow, but I madesounds as of a hen who has laid an egg. It broke on the Doctor with atotal instantaneous smash, quite like an egg.

  He tried to speak calmly. "This is a disgrace. An infamous disgrace.Never in my life hav
e I--" Words forsook him, and his face grew redder."Never in my life--" He stopped again, because, at the sight of himbeing dignified in his red drawers, I was making the noise of a dozenhens. It was suddenly too much for the Virginian. He hastened into hisroom, and there sank on the floor with his head in his hands. The Doctorimmediately slammed the door upon him, and this rendered me easily fitfor a lunatic asylum. I cried into my pillow, and wondered if the Doctorwould come and kill me. But he took no notice of me whatever. I couldhear the Virginian's convulsions through the door, and also the Doctorfuriously making his toilet within three feet of my head; and I layquite still with my face the other way, for I was really afraid to lookat him. When I heard him walk to the door in his boots, I ventured topeep; and there he was, going out with his bag in his hand. As I stillcontinued to lie, weak and sore, and with a mind that had ceased alloperation, the Virginian's door opened. He was clean and dressed anddecent, but the devil still sported in his eye. I have never seen acreature more irresistibly handsome.

  Then my mind worked again. "You've gone and done it," said I. "He'spacked his valise. He'll not sleep here."

  The Virginian looked quickly out of the door. "Why, he's leavin' us!" heexclaimed. "Drivin' away right now in his little old buggy!" He turnedto me, and our eyes met solemnly over this large fact. I thought thatI perceived the faintest tincture of dismay in the features of JudgeHenry's new, responsible, trusty foreman. This was the first act of hisadministration. Once again he looked out at the departing missionary."Well," he vindictively stated, "I cert'nly ain't goin' to run aftehhim." And he looked at me again.

  "Do you suppose the Judge knows?" I inquired.

  He shook his head. "The windo' shades is all down still oveh yondeh."He paused. "I don't care," he stated, quite as if he had been ten yearsold. Then he grinned guiltily. "I was mighty respectful to him allnight."

  "Oh, yes, respectful! Especially when you invited him to turn his wolfloose."

  The Virginian gave a joyous gulp. He now came and sat down on the edgeof my bed. "I spoke awful good English to him most of the time," saidhe. "I can, yu' know, when I cinch my attention tight on to it. Yes,I cert'nly spoke a lot o' good English. I didn't understand some of itmyself!"

  He was now growing frankly pleased with his exploit. He had builded somuch better than he knew. He got up and looked out across the crystalworld of light. "The Doctor is at one-mile crossing," he said. "He'llget breakfast at the N-lazy-Y." Then he returned and sat again on mybed, and began to give me his real heart. "I never set up for beingbetter than others. Not even to myself. My thoughts ain't apt to travelaround making comparisons. And I shouldn't wonder if my memory tookas much notice of the meannesses I have done as of--as of the otheractions. But to have to sit like a dumb lamb and let a stranger tell yu'for an hour that yu're a hawg and a swine, just after you have acted ina way which them that know the facts would call pretty near white--"

  "Trampas!" I could not help exclaiming.

  For there are moments of insight when a guess amounts to knowledge.

  "Has Scipio told--"

  "No. Not a word. He wouldn't tell me."

  "Well, yu' see, I arrived home hyeh this evenin' with several thoughtsworkin' and stirrin' inside me. And not one o' them thoughts was whatyu'd call Christian. I ain't the least little bit ashamed of 'em. I'm ahuman. But after the Judge--well, yu' heard him. And so when I went awayfrom that talk and saw how positions was changed--"

  A step outside stopped him short. Nothing more could be read in hisface, for there was Trampas himself in the open door.

  "Good morning," said Trampas, not looking at us. He spoke with the samecool sullenness of yesterday.

  We returned his greeting.

  "I believe I'm late in congratulating you on your promotion," said he.

  The Virginian consulted his watch. "It's only half afteh six," hereturned.

  Trampas's sullenness deepened. "Any man is to be congratulated ongetting a rise, I expect."

  This time the Virginian let him have it. "Cert'nly. And I ain'tforgetting how much I owe mine to you."

  Trampas would have liked to let himself go. "I've not come here for anyforgiveness," he sneered.

  "When did yu' feel yu' needed any?" The Virginian was impregnable.

  Trampas seemed to feel how little he was gaining this way. He came outstraight now. "Oh, I haven't any Judge behind me, I know. I heard you'dbe paying the boys this morning, and I've come for my time."

  "You're thinking of leaving us?" asked the new foreman. "What's yourdissatisfaction?"

  "Oh, I'm not needing anybody back of me. I'll get along by myself." Itwas thus he revealed his expectation of being dismissed by his enemy.

  This would have knocked any meditated generosity out of my heart. ButI was not the Virginian. He shifted his legs, leaned back a little, andlaughed. "Go back to your job, Trampas, if that's all your complaint.You're right about me being in luck. But maybe there's two of us inluck."

  It was this that Scipio had preferred me to see with my own eyes. Thefight was between man and man no longer. The case could not be one offorgiveness; but the Virginian would not use his official position tocrush his subordinate.

  Trampas departed with something muttered that I did not hear, and theVirginian closed intimate conversation by saying, "You'll be late forbreakfast." With that he also took himself away.

  The ladies were inclined to be scandalized, but not the Judge. When mywhole story was done, he brought his fist down on the table, and notlightly this time. "I'd make him lieutenant general if the ranch offeredthat position!" he declared.

  Miss Molly Wood said nothing at the time. But in the afternoon, by herwish, she went fishing, with the Virginian deputed to escort her. Irode with them, for a while. I was not going to continue a third in thatparty; the Virginian was too becomingly dressed, and I saw KENILWORTHpeeping out of his pocket. I meant to be fishing by myself when thatvolume was returned.

  But Miss Wood talked with skilful openness as we rode. "I've heard allabout you and Dr. MacBride," she said. "How could you do it, when theJudge places such confidence in you?"

  He looked pleased. "I reckon," he said, "I couldn't be so good if Iwasn't bad onced in a while."

  "Why, there's a skunk," said I, noticing the pretty little animaltrotting in front of us at the edge of the thickets.

  "Oh, where is it? Don't let me see it!" screamed Molly. And at thisdeeply feminine remark, the Virginian looked at her with such a smilethat, had I been a woman, it would have made me his to do what hepleased with on the spot.

  Upon the lady, however, it seemed to make less impression. Or rather, Ihad better say, whatever were her feelings, she very naturally made nodisplay of them, and contrived not to be aware of that expression whichhad passed over the Virginian's face.

  It was later that these few words reached me while I was fishing alone:"Have you anything different to tell me yet?" I heard him say.

  "Yes; I have." She spoke in accents light and well intrenched. "I wishto say that I have never liked any man better than you. But I expectto!"

  He must have drawn small comfort from such an answer as that. But helaughed out indomitably: "Don't yu' go betting on any such expectation!"And then their words ceased to be distinct, and it was only their twovoices that I heard wandering among the windings of the stream.