by Bret Harte
CHAPTER IV.
IN WHICH THE ARTFUL GABRIEL IS DISCOVERED.
Notwithstanding his assumed ease and a certain relief, which was real,Gabriel was far from being satisfied with the result of his visit toMrs. Markle. Whatever may have actually occurred, not known to thereader except through Gabriel's own disclosure to Olly, Gabriel's mannerhardly bore out the boldness and conclusiveness of his statement. For aday or two afterwards he resented any allusion to the subject from Olly,but on the third day he held a conversation with one of the Eureka Barminers, which seemed to bear some remote reference to his experience.
"Thar's a good deal said lately in the papers," began Gabriel,cautiously, "in regard to breach o' promise trials. Lookin' at it, byand large, thar don't seem to be much show for a fellow ez hez been inenny ways kind to a gal, is thar?"
The person addressed, whom rumour declared to have sought One HorseGulch as a place of refuge from his wife, remarked with an oath thatwomen were blank fools anyway, and that on general principles they werenot to be trusted.
"But thar must be a kind o' gin'ral law on the subject," urged Gabriel."Now what would be your opinion if you was on a jury onto a case likethis? It happened to a friend o' mine in Frisco," said Gabriel, with amarked parenthesis, "a man ez you don't know. Thar was a woman--we'llsay a widder--ez had been kinder hangin' round him off and on for twoor three year, and he hadn't allowed anything to her about marryin'. Oneday he goes down thar to her house, kinder easy-like, jest to pass thetime o' day, and be sociable"----
"That's bad," interrupted the cynic.
"Yes," said Gabriel, doubtingly, "p'r'aps it does look bad, but you seehe didn't mean anythin'."
"Well?" said the adviser.
"Well! thet's all," said Gabriel.
"All!" exclaimed his companion, indignantly.
"Yes, all. Now this woman kinder allows she'll bring a suit agin him tomake him marry her."
"My opinion is," said the adviser, bluntly, "my opinion is, that the manwas a fool, and didn't tell ye the truth nuther, and I'd give damagesagin him, for being such a fool."
This opinion was so crushing to Gabriel that he turned hopelessly away.Nevertheless, in his present state of mind, he could not refrain frompushing his inquiries further, and in a general conversation which tookplace at Briggs's store, in the afternoon, among a group of smokers,Gabriel artfully introduced the subject of courtship and marriage.
"Thar's different ways of getting at the feelin's of a woman," said theoracular Johnson, after a graphic statement of his own method ofensnaring the affections of a former sweetheart, "thar's different waysjest as thar's different men and women in the world. One man's way won'tdo with some wimmen. But thar's one way ez is pretty sure to fetch 'emallers. That is, to play off indifferent--to never let on ye like 'em!To kinder look arter them in a gin'ral sort o' way, pretty much as Gabethar looks arter the sick!--but not to say anythin' particler. To makethem understand that they've got to do all the courtin', ef thar's ennyto be done. What's the matter, Gabe, ye ain't goin'?"
Gabriel, who had risen in great uneasiness, muttered something about"its being time to go home," and then sat down again, looking at Johnsonin fearful fascination.
"That kind o' thing is pretty sure to fetch almost enny woman,"continued Johnson, "and a man ez does it orter be looked arter. It orterbe put down by law. It's tamperin', don't yer see, with the holiestaffections. Sich a man orter be spotted wharever found."
"But mebbe the man don't mean anythin'--mebbe it's jest his way,"suggested Gabriel, ruefully, looking around in the faces of the party,"mebbe he don't take to wimmen and marriage nat'ral, and it's jest hisway."
"Way be blowed!" said the irate Johnson, scornfully. "Ketch him, indeed!It's jest the artfullest kind o' artfulness. It's jest begging on a fullhand."
Gabriel rose slowly, and, resisting any further attempts to detain him,walked to the door, and, after a remark on the threatening nature of theweather, delivered in a manner calculated to impress his audience withhis general indifference to the subject then under discussion, melteddejectedly away into the driving rain that had all day swept over OneHorse Gulch, and converted its one long narrow street into a ditch ofturbulent yellow water.
"Thet Gabe seems to be out o' sorts to-day," said Johnson. "I heerdLawyer Maxwell asking arter him this morning; I reckon thar's suthin'up! Gabe ain't a bad sort of chap. Hezen't got enny too much _sabe_about him, but he's mighty good at looking arter sick folks, and thetkind o' man's a power o' use in this camp. Hope thar ain't anything ezwill interfere with his sphere o' usefulness."
"May be a woman scrape," suggested Briggs. "He seemed sort o' bound upin what you was saying about women jest now. Thar is folks round yer,"said Briggs, dropping his voice and looking about him, "ez believesthat that yer Olly, which he lets on to be his sister, to be actooallyhis own child. No man would tote round a child like that, and jest bindhimself up in her, and give up wimmen and whisky, and keerds, andkempeny, ef it wasn't his own. Thet ain't like brothers in my part ofthe country."
"It's a mighty queer story he tells, ennyways--all this yer stuff aboutStarvation Camp and escapin'," suggested another. "I never did, somehow,take enny stock in that."
"Well, it's his own look out," concluded Johnson. "It's nothin' to me.Ef I've been any service to him pintin' out sick people, and kindermakin' suggestions here and thar, how he should look arter them, he'swelcome to it. I don't go back on my record, if he hez got intotrouble."
"And I'm sure," said Briggs, "if I did allow him to come in here andlook arter thet sick Mexican, it ain't for me to be expected to lookafter his moril character too." But here the entrance of a customer puta stop to further criticism.
Meanwhile the unfortunate subject of this discussion, by clinging closeto the walls of houses, had avoided the keen blast that descended fromthe mountain, and had at last reached the little trail that led throughthe gulch to his cabin on the opposite hill-side. Here Gabrielhesitated. To follow that trail would lead him past the boarding-houseof Mrs. Markle. In the light of the baleful counsel he had justreceived, to place himself as soon again in the way of danger seemed tohim to be only a provocation of fate. That the widow and Sal might swoopdown upon him as he passed, and compel him to enter; that the spectacleof his passing without a visit might superinduce instant hysterics onthe part of the widow, appeared to his terror-stricken fancy as almost acertainty. The only other way home was by a circuitous road along theridge of the hill, at least three miles farther. Gabriel did nothesitate long, but began promptly to ascend the hill. This was no easytask in the face of a strong gale and torrents of beating rain, but theovercoming of physical difficulties by the exercise of his allconquering muscles, and the fact that he was doing something, relievedhis mind of its absurd terrors. When he had reached the summit henoticed for the first time the full power of those subtle agencies thathad been silently at work during the last week's steady rain. A thintrickling mountain rill where he had two weeks before slaked his thirstduring a ramble with Olly, was now transformed into a roaring cataract;the brook that they had leaped across was now a swollen river. Therewere slowly widening pools in the valleys, darkly glancing sheets ofwater on the distant plains, and a monotonous rush and gurgle always inthe air. It was half an hour later, and two miles farther on his roughroad, that he came in view of the narrow precipitous gorge through whichthe Wingdam stage passed on its way from Marysville. As he approachednearer he could see that the little mountain stream which ran beside thestage road had already slightly encroached upon the road-bed, and thathere and there the stage road itself was lost in drifts of standingwater. "It will be pretty rough drivin' up that ca[~n]on," said Gabriel tohimself as he thought of the incoming Wingdam stage, now nearly due;"mighty onpleasant and risky with narvous leaders, but thar's worsethings than that in this yer world," he meditated, as his mind revertedagain to Mrs. Markle, "and ef I could change places with Yuba Bill, andget on that box and Olly inside--I'd do it!"
But just then th
e reservoir of the Wingdam ditch came in view on thehill beside him, and with it a revelation that in a twinkling displacedMrs. Markle, and seemed almost to change the man's entire nature! Whatwas it? Apparently nothing to the eye of the ordinary traveller. Thedam was full, and through a cut-off the overplus water was escapingwith a roar. Nothing more? Yes--to an experienced eye the escaping waterwas not abating the quantity in the dam. Was that all? No! Halfway downthe rudely constructed _adobe_ bank of the dam, the water was slowlyoozing and trickling through a slowly-widening crevice, over the rocksabove the gorge and stage road below! The wall of the dam was givingway! To tear off coat and all impeding garments, to leap from rock torock, and boulder to boulder, hanging on by slippery chimisal and thedecayed roots of trees; to reach at the risk of life and limb the ca[~n]onbelow, and then to run at the highest speed to warn the incoming stageof the danger before it should enter the narrow gorge, was only theresolve and action of a brave man. But to do this without the smallestwaste of strength that ought to be preserved, to do this with thegreatest economy of force, to do this with the agility and skill of amountaineer, and the reserved power of a giant; to do this with a willso simple, direct, and unhesitating, that the action appeared to havebeen planned and rehearsed days before, instead of being the resolutionof the instant,--this belonged to Gabriel Conroy! And to have seen himsettle into a long swinging trot, and to have observed his calm, grave,earnest, but unexcited face, and quiet, steadfast eye, you would havebelieved him some healthy giant simply exercising himself.
He had not gone half a mile before his quick ear caught a dull sound androar of advancing water. Yet even then he only slightly increased hissteady stride, as if he had been quickened and followed by his trainerrather than by approaching Death. At the same moment there was a quickrattle and clatter in the road ahead--a halt, and turning back, forGabriel's warning shout had run before him like a bullet. But it was toolate. The roaring water behind him struck him and bore him down, andthe next instant swept the coach and horses a confused, struggling,black mass, against the rocky walls of the ca[~n]on. And then it was thatthe immense reserved strength of Gabriel came into play. Set upon by thealmost irresistible volume of water, he did not waste his power inuseless opposition, but allowed himself to be swept hither and thitheruntil he touched a branch of chimisal that depended from the ca[~n]on side.Seizing it with one sudden and mighty effort, he raised himself abovethe sweep and suction of the boiling flood. The coach was gone; where ithad stood a few black figures struggled, swirled, and circled. One ofthem was a woman. In an instant Gabriel plunged into the yellow water. Afew strokes brought him to her side; in another moment he had encircledher waist with his powerful arm and lifted her head above the surface,when he was seized by two despairing arms from the other side. Gabrieldid not shake them off. "Take hold of me lower down and I'll help yeboth," he shouted, as he struck out with his only free arm for thechimisal. He reached it; drew himself up so that he could grasp it withhis teeth, and then, hanging on by his jaw, raised his two clingingcompanions beside him. They had barely grasped it, when another ominousroar was heard below, and another wall of yellow water swept swiftly upthe ca[~n]on. The chimisal began to yield to their weight. Gabriel dug hisfingers into the soil about its roots, clutched the jagged edges of arock beneath, and threw his arm about the woman, pressing her closely tothe face of the wall. As the wave swept over them, there was a suddendespairing cry, a splash, and the man was gone. Only Gabriel and thewoman remained. They were safe, but for the moment only. Gabriel's lefthand grasping an insecure projection, was all that sustained theirunited weight. Gabriel, for the first time, looked down upon the woman.Then he said hesitatingly--
"Kin ye hold yourself a minnit?"--"Yes."
Even at that critical moment some occult quality of sweetness in hervoice thrilled him.
"Lock your hands together hard, and sling 'em over my neck." She did so.Gabriel freed his right hand. He scarcely felt the weight thus suddenlythrown upon his shoulders, but cautiously groped for a projection on therock above. He found it, raised himself by a supreme effort, until hesecured a foothold in the hole left by the uprooted chimisal bush. Herehe paused.
"Kin ye hang on a minnit longer?"
"Go on," she said.
Gabriel went on. He found another projection, and another, and graduallyat last reached a ledge a foot wide, near the top of the cliff. Here hepaused. It was the woman's turn to speak.
"Can you climb to the top?" she asked.
"Yes--if you"----
"Go on," she said, simply.
Gabriel continued the ascent cautiously. In a few minutes he had reachedthe top. Here her hands suddenly relaxed their grasp; she would haveslipped to the ground had not Gabriel caught her by the waist, liftedher in his arms, and borne her to a spot where a fallen pine-tree hadcarpeted and cushioned the damp ground with its withered tassels. Herehe laid her down with that exquisite delicacy and tenderness of touchwhich was so habitual to him in his treatment of all helplessness as tobe almost unconscious. But she thanked him, with such a gracefulrevelation of small white teeth, and such a singular look out of herdark grey eyes, that he could not help looking at her again. She was asmall light-haired woman, tastefully and neatly dressed, and of a typeand class unknown to him. But for her smile, he would not have thoughther pretty. But even with that smile on her face, she presently paledand fainted. At the same moment Gabriel heard the sound of voices, and,looking up, saw two of the passengers, who had evidently escaped byclimbing the cliff, coming towards them. And then--I know not how totell it--but a sudden and awe-inspiring sense of his ambiguous andpeculiar situation took possession of him. What would they think of it?Would they believe his statement? A sickening recollection of the lateconversation at Brigg's returned to him; the indignant faces of thegaunt Sal and the plump Mrs. Markle were before him; even thequestioning eyes of little Olly seemed to pierce his inmost soul, andalas! this hero, the victorious giant, turned and fled.