Chapter XIX.
A STRANGE THEORY.
"_OUR BODIES MAY BE TENANTED BY SOULS THAT HAVE LIVED BEFORE._"
A pouring rain from a vapor-laden sky, dull and gray, saluted Cliffordthe next morning with a chill welcome; but still the general gloom thatpervaded all nature was in such perfect harmony with his mood that hefelt a grim satisfaction, in a cold, lethargic way, at the sympathy ofthe elements.
"I am growing tired of this monotonous life," he said at breakfast, "andhave decided to commute my homestead and knock around in the worldawhile; so if Mr. Moreland, Ralph, and you, father, are willing to go toAbilene as my witnesses, we will start Saturday morning. I can take thetrain from there, and save another trip;" then seeing Maud's and hismother's look of distress, he added: "I may not be gone long, so I'llleave every thing as it is untill my return."
"Why, Clifford, my boy, what has come over you? This is wholly unlikeyour nature. I had always felt so glad that you were not of a rovingdisposition, and now you fly off at a tangent, and when we were notlooking for any thing of the kind either. It is very strange, indeed!"
Clifford made no reply, but rose from the table, followed by Rob, whoseface was momentarily growing longer and more doleful in its expression,while Maud shot a warning look at her parents, and as the boy'sretreating footsteps grew fainter, she answered their questioning looksby saying:--
"Poor Clifford! he is passing through that course of true love which issaid to never run smooth, and it is best not to interfere; but I hope atthe picnic to see him on better terms with Mora, which may change hisplans at once."
"Only a lovers' quarrel?" said Mrs. Warlow, with a troubled smile.
"No; I fear it is not so tangible as that," Maud replied. "Cliffordseems to have caught the impression, some way, that Mora regards him asa mere fortune hunter, or looks down on him for his poverty; you knowthat she will be equal heir with Hugh in the immense Estill estate,which is said to be worth half a million, she being their only otherchild," she added, while narrowly watching her parents' faces; but toher wonder, her father and mother betrayed no surprise at this lastremark, which caused a doubt to enter her mind that they were aware ofthe great discovery that Mora was the daughter of Bruce and Ivarene,which she had until this moment believed was a fact revealed to themwhen the Estills made their visit, more than a week before.
"Can it be that they are still ignorant of that fact?" Maud mentallyasked herself; and then she began to wonder why the Estills had shownthe locket, with its pictures of Bruce and his wife, and withheld fromher parents the more important secret that Mora was also the daughter ofthose ill-fated friends; but her reflections were cut short by herfather saying, with a weary sigh:--
"Ah! this is the sting of poverty indeed! Oh, why should I have been soill-fated as to lose two fortunes in succession?"
"George, do not grieve over the past; that's beyond recall," Mrs. Warlowsaid gently; then she added: "It is better that my children shouldconfine themselves to their own sphere; for you can see that if MissEstill loved my boy, as well she might, for himself alone, she wouldnever think of the difference in their wealth. It may save them alife-time of misery; for without mutual love, matrimony would be a stateof abject servitude."
"Well, if Clifford sees fit to take a change of scene, it will serve tocure him of his--attachment; and if Mora, in the meantime, discovers hermistake in undervaluing Clifford--a fellow that any girl under the sunmight be proud of--why, it may all come out right yet," said Maud as sherose from the table and began to polish and clean the great silvercoffee-urn, another relic of old plantation glory, but which had neverbeen considered too good for every-day service.
All day Clifford worked with a fever of energy to prepare for hisjourney, which he was compelled to do; for the picnic was set for thecoming day, Friday, and he had to see the Morelands to secure theirattendance with him at the land-office as witnesses to prove his actualresidence and cultivation upon his homestead, which he had concluded tocommute, or in other words, pay the sum of two hundred dollars to thegovernment in lieu of five years of residence and cultivation thereon.Having secured their testimony, or their willing promise to accompanyhim to Abilene and there testify to his good faith, etc., he madeeverything ready for his departure the next morning after the picnic.
When Maud and his mother questioned him regarding the destination andduration of his trip, he said he would go South awhile, but evadedtelling them that he had determined to go to Buenos Ayres and remainuntil he had made a fortune that would cause Miss Estill to regard himas an equal.
He noticed the sadness, however, of the family, and when he met Rob'slook of grief his fortitude was sorely tried, and he regretted havingformed such a hasty resolution. But it was too late now to retreat, hefoolishly concluded; so, choking down a lump in his throat, he walkedout to take a last view of his farm. As he sauntered along in a listlessway, looking at the fields, every furrow of which he had turned over inthe past with such a deep pride of ownership; at the trees and deeppools, that greeted him with the air of old friendship, he began torealize how dear the place had become, and he wondered, in aself-pitying way, how he could bear the existence that awaited him outon the sky-begirt level and lonely pampas of the Rio La Plata.
When he came to the gothic dwelling, the circle of roses and trellisesof luxuriant vines, the sloping orchard and vineyard, they all seemedto be still imbued with the strange thought which had ever haunted himwhile he was busied there. "Here for the first time since eternitybegan, I found a true home. All this is mine, and on this spot I shallpass my life. What events will transpire here in the unknown future! Ishall know joy and sorrow here, but who will share it all with me?" Asthese visions recurred, he thought bitterly that he never had countedupon an hour of trial like the present. Then, throwing himself down inthe shade of the old wall, he cried aloud in anguish, as he buried hisface in the soft, matted buffalo-grass: "Oh, it is hard to part from allthis--and only for a woman who cares nothing for me!" But at length hebecame calmer, and as a feeling of resentment towards the proud heiressbegan to possess him, he arose and went into the house: then, aftertaking the usual precautions against surprise, he raised the trap-doorand unlocked the treasure-chest.
On glancing at the heap of red gold mingled with the dazzling gems, hetook from the compartment the paper which he had almost forgotten havingnever read; then breaking the seal, he found that it was the wills ofboth Bruce and his wife on separate sheets of vellum, executed at SantaFe, devising all their estate each to the other, in case of either dyingduring the long journey on which they were about starting.
"I will bring her here to-morrow. She shall read the pathetic Journal ofIvarene and this will. I shall tell her of the long search after thetreasure, and her right to all this wealth; then, after restoring bothher name and fortune, there will be little left for me to do but toslink away, while some long-necked aristocrat will step to theforeground and carry off the prize," soliloquized our hero with bittersarcasm, as he placed the papers in an inner pocket of his drab coat,and closed the chest with a vicious snap.
The rain had ceased long since, and a band of crimson and rose on thewestern horizon gave a promise of fair weather on the morrow; butClifford lingered about the beloved place, feeling that this was hisfarewell to a spot that had grown dear as life to him in the last year.He found it hard to tear himself away; so he seated himself upon atravel-worn ridge in the old trail, worn years ago by the wheels of thefreight wagons, but now carpeted thickly with the buffalo-grass, whichseems to delight in hiding just such an unsightly, trampled place withits pale-green tendrils. As the shadows darkened among the trees, andthe gloom of a starless, fog-ladened night settled down with a palpablesilence, young Warlow became lost in thought.
The scene which followed was always a mystery to him; for he never knewwhether he had witnessed a supernatural sight or not. He often tried topersuade himself that he had lapsed into a fit of transient slumber, andthe whole spectacle was only a vivid dream
.
The time passed by unheeded, and it was near the hour of ten when hisfit of abstraction was broken by seeing a group of fire-flies flashingabout in an unnatural manner. He remembered, dimly, seeing great numbersof these luminous insects congregating around the long grave, not fiftypaces away; and his blood grew cold as he saw, with a thrill of horror,that the flashing, mazy clouds began to slowly resolve themselves intothe semblance of human forms, that leaped and danced in fiendish glee;now bounding high into the murky air, or again brandishing weapons, thatresembled war-clubs and tomahawks, in a threatening and heart-sickeningmanner.
While these mysterious forms gyrated about in their unearthly war-dance,Clifford stood petrified with horror and astonishment, not unmixed witha strange curiosity to see how it would terminate; and when the luminousfigures joined hands, and slowly paced about the grave, as though to thechant of some wild and savage death-song, a dim and glimmering circle ofphantom warriors, Clifford could bear it no longer, but sprang to hisfeet with a cry of horror, that was echoed by a shriek which heinstantly recognized as being the voice of Rob. As the skurrying hoofswent tearing away, he shouted quickly:--
"Rob! Rob! wait,--it is Cliff! Come back like a man, and let'sinvestigate;" but he saw that at the first sound of their voices thefigures had flashed asunder like thistle-down before a breath, and nowwere whirling and weaving in a bewildering maze of light that meltedaway as he gazed, and separated into the innocent flitting forms offire-flies that were hieing off to the dark nooks along the stream.
As Rob came back, riding slowly and in an uncertain manner, Cliffordemerged from the gloom of the trees into the less ebon darkness of theopen ground; then Rob halted and said, in a shaky voice:--"I thoughtthat I had run afoul of the old devil himself when you yelled so! Whatis the matter, anyway?"
Briefly as possible Clifford told of the strange sight which he had justwitnessed--a scene which he then thought was more like a fevered dreamthan a reality.
"But how does it happen you were here?" he added.
"Why, we were uneasy about you, and I had come in search. I knew youwould be up here, for I saw you walking this way. I had just got here,and was going to call you, when you yelled like a catamount down by theold grave. What does it mean, Cliff? It makes me cold yet!" he added,with chattering teeth.
"Well, it's something that can not be explained away," said Clifford,while walking back beside Rob, who, too well bred to ride while anotherwalked, had dismounted, and was leading his horse. "There is only oneview that I can take of it, and that is a supernatural one," hecontinued, as Rob linked his arm within his own, and they struck theroad homeward. "There is a belief gaining ground, Rob, that thespirit--or the life principle, animation, or whatever it may be whichwe call soul--after it is disembodied by death, may yet linger about insome subtle, invisible form akin to electricity, and may become embodiedagain by entering into the being of a new-born child,--which, if true,may account for the strange resemblance we often see peering out of theeyes and face of an infant that recalls some long-dead friend orancestor. It may be that the power which mind wields over matter wouldenable the strong, magnetic spirits of those savage warriors, who, nodoubt, died terrible deaths of violence on this tragedy-haunted spot, toattract the fire-flies, and mold them into a semblance of their formerbodies, or, at least, imprison them for a time within the spirit outlineof their former selves. This, alone, would enable them to become visibleto our eyes, proving what we already know, that without matter of aliving nature the spirit--or magnetism, which we call soul--would bealways as invisible as the air."
"Why, Cliff, you talk like a heathen!" replied Rob, vehemently, who,though addicted to the vice of swimming on the Sabbath, 'hooking'watermelons from the Mennonites, and hiding Easter eggs, was stillstrictly orthodox to his boot-heels. "So you think," he continued, "thata human soul may take the form of a panther or a pauper--whichever thespirit most resembles--and be cast and recast over and over again, likean old piece of boiler-iron, until at last it becomes--well, just what,I'd like to know?"
"A good Christian being that progresses towards perfection, and learnswisdom from his former mistakes, I guess," replied Clifford, as theyturned the horse into the pasture and sought the house. As they cameinto the yard, he added: "If there is one spot on the continent thatshould be haunted, it certainly is the old Stone Corral and the near-bycrossing of the Santa Fe and Abilene Trails; for there has been morecrime and cruel deviltry committed there than upon any other square milein the Western world."
The next morning broke with a cloudless sky, balmy and serene. A lightwind from the south-west lifted the ribbon of vapor along theCottonwood, and wafted the fresh and perfumed odors of wild hop-vine andwater-mint, desert-sage and sand-plum, over the garden and into theWarlow breakfast-room, where Clifford was narrating to his horrifiedparents and sister the particulars of that unreal and mystery-wrappedscene which he had witnessed the night before.
"It all looks so unreal in this clear daylight that I am almost ashamedto repeat it," said Clifford, with a nervous laugh; but the hearers knewby the look of earnest gravity on his face that there could have been nomistake or deception as to his witnessing a sight that ever was amystery to all.
"Well, this is a strange story indeed," said the colonel; "but, my boy,you must have been asleep unconsciously, and when you awoke your mindwas in that abnormal state in which an optical illusion would haveseemed like reality. An illusion of this nature is very hard to combat,from its very uncertainty; and we can only reason, from generalprinciples, that it was a half-waking dream."
The preparations for the picnic put an end to any further discussion,and at ten the grounds were enlivened by a throng of people, all intheir happiest mood and best attire.
When the Estill carriage came on the ground, Clifford hurried forwardand assisted Miss Estill to alight; then, after shaking hands with Mrs.Estill, who excused her husband's absence by saying that he had notreturned from the Comanche Pool, whither he had gone a week before, hefound a seat for the elder lady, and disappeared with Mora on thepretext of boat-riding.
They walked in silence to where his boat was tied to the trunk of aweeping elm. As Clifford helped her into the seat, her warm clasp sent athrill to his heart that caused a hot flush to mount to his face; but itsoon receded, leaving him paler and more care-worn than ever. But Moranoticed that his cravat of dainty lawn was tied with that precision onlyattained by a thorough man of fashion, and the spray of snowyelder-bloom, late but fragrant, combined with a solitary pansy-shapedflower, pale blue with a fleck of gold at the heart, into a_boutonniere_ that denoted a taste refined and fastidious in its wearer.
They shot out into the narrow stream under Clifford's vigorous strokes,and skimmed lightly along through the silver-linked pools, shaded bytrees that were smothered by poison-ivy and wild-grape vines, thattrailed in the water with their purple-laden tendrils of ripening fruit.At length they reached the bank near young Warlow's dwelling, after ajourney which he thought had lasted for an age, but which, to becorrect, was just four minutes in duration. There had been an attempt onher part at conversation, but seeing the far-away look in his eyes andthe expression of haggard misery on his white, handsome face, she becamemore cold and reserved than ever, and sat with averted face, trailing agaudy cardinal-flower through the water.
On landing, he again encountered her hand, which did not fail to send anelectric shock through him, as he assisted her ashore, and for a momenthe thought that she held his hand longer than the occasion required, andhe raised his eyes to her face with a quick flash of joy; but thedowncast look and pale cheeks which he saw, sent the blood back to hisheart with a sickening chill, and they walked together in silence uptoward his dwelling.
When they reached the house he led the way to the spring and motioningher to a seat under the shade of that giant elm, he drew the wills forthand handed them to her saying:--
"Here, Miss Estill, is what makes you the greatest heiress in thiswestern land!" then, as she sil
ently read them through and lifted apuzzled face to his, he handed her the Journal of Ivarene, and watchedbreathlessly, while she became flushed and pale by turns while perusingthe faded and time-worn paper.
"Ah! poor, ill-fated Ivarene! what could have become of her and thathelpless infant,--and brave Bruce too?" she cried, with tears in hereyes.
"The parents were murdered, no doubt, by that mad hunter, and the childwas stolen and left at Estill's ranch along with a locket containing thename of Morelia and the pictures of Bruce and Ivarene. The mysteriouskinsman buried on the hill-top was Olin Estill, who was only the madhunter in disguise, who stole that blue-eyed, dark-haired daughter,named Morelia."
"Ah! you believe me to be the daughter of Bruce and his lovely wife!"said Mora, springing to her feet, while tears rained from her eyes, andher hands were wrung with deep emotion.
"Yes, I am certain that you are Morelia Walraven. I had suspected thisfrom the hour that father called you Ivarene, and I set to workearnestly to recover the lost fortune, which I believed was buried nearthis spot. I worked faithfully, Miss Estill, to restore it all to you,knowing full well, all the while, that when found it would only widenthe gulf between me and the cattle-king's daughter an hundred-fold. Iwill not dwell on the horrors of that fortune hunt, nor its perils, whenI fought that gray-robed demon, which glared at you upon thegrave-capped hill; how I struggled with that murderous spectre in thedarkness of midnight, after being greeted in a noisome pit by a giganticrattlesnake, which I slew as it writhed at my feet, with certain deathin its fangs; nor the horror I felt when it was dead, at length, tograsp a human skull, that mocked me with eyeless sockets and grinningteeth when I snatched it from the buried cask--hoping I had found thecasket of gems.
"But come with me, and I will show you that the Warlow honor and prideis no vain boast; that the poor planter's son can face danger and deathfor the sake of right alone."
Then, as she followed, pale and trembling, into the room, he threw backthe lid of the treasure-chest, and the red gold, the glorious rays fromfrosty pearls, sparkling diamonds, blood-red rubies, and strange greenemeralds mingled, in a dazzling glare, with the sheen of fire-opals andthe glint of amethysts of purple, lilac, and rose.
"Here, Morelia Walraven, is your lost treasure, your million of gems andgold, your proud name and ancestral hall, which I restore," as he handedher the deed of Monteluma. "To-morrow I shall leave home and country,friends dearer than life, to prove--to prove to you I am not that vilething which you take me for--a Fortune Hunter!"
She merely glanced at the pile of dazzling wealth; then raised her eyesthat glittered through her tears like the turquois among the gold, andwhile he poured forth a torrent of hot words that seemed to come fromhis very soul, her color came and went until a burning blush spread overher face, and in a choking gasp she essayed to speak. When he hadceased, she gazed a moment up into his face, seamed and drawn in linesof white agony, then she cried out:--
"Oh! what do I care for all this dross, whose daughter I may be, or mypride of ancestry? Clifford--oh, Clifford!--you shall never leave me. Iwill die if you do. I love you! Oh, will I have to say it?--yes, I loveyou better than all the world beside. No, no! you shall never leave me!"she said, with her white arms about his neck and her soft, warm cheekpressed close to his; and--and--well, I just skipped out there, leavingthem alone with a scene that was growing too unutterably "rich for myblood," to use a Western phrase; but half an hour later, as theystrolled back to the boat I overheard him say:--
"But why, my love, did you look so proud and cold in the hall when Icame in at your house only the other night?"
"Proud and cold, indeed," she replied, with a gay laugh, as she shot alook of mingled love and amazement into his beaming eyes. "Now, thatshows how well you can read a woman's heart, sir. Dear Clifford," sheadded, tearfully, "do you know, you dear blind boy, that at that verytime I was wretched and miserable, and longed to kiss you and say that Ihad waited for years for just such an ideal as you are?"
"It is not too late now for that!" he cried rapturously, as they passedunder the boughs of a drooping tree, then followed a sound so explosivethat I beat a hasty retreat from such a danger-fraught vicinity, andnever came near again until their boat touched shore. Maud came to themas they landed, and said:--
"Where have you been, truants? I have missed you for an hour."
"In paradise," replied Clifford, with such a look of happy abandon thatMaud started joyfully; then Mora said, with a blush, as she clasped herarms about the form of delighted Maud:--
"Yes, I have coaxed him to stay forever; but I had to propose to theselfish being before he would promise at all."
Then Maud, seeing the tears of earnestness that began to start, kissedher new sister and Clifford very tenderly, saying, between her smilesand tears:--
"Oh, this is happiness indeed!" which sentiment seemed to be fullyshared by the radiant couple whom she addressed.
Maud was not long in finding an excuse to leave the lovers tothemselves; and when she had disappeared among the throng, theysauntered on to a secluded seat, under a vine-canopied tree, where thetrailing bitter-sweet swept the closely-cropped grass with its gracefultendrils, loaded with a burden of orange and pink berries. Here, securefrom intrusion, they could see the crowd of well-dressed peopleloitering about in detached groups, but were far enough removed fromthem to talk in that confidential strain peculiar to newly-mated youngpeople, with no fear of interruption.
"When shall we reveal to your parents the discoveries which I disclosedto you to-day, Mora?" said Clifford, in a low tone.
"Let us be in no haste, Clifford," she replied; "for father is away, andmother would be unnerved and agitated at the revelation. Then we willhave several guests to entertain for the next week, as Mrs. Potter andMiss Hanford will remain with us after the picnic. So I believe it wouldbe best to defer it for a week or two."
"But what shall be done in the meantime with the treasure, Mora dear?There is a million dollars in gold and gems lying there in that chest. Itremble to think what the result might be if its existence weresuspected in such an unprotected spot."
"Well, sir, you must nerve yourself to the task of not only caring forit, but of me also in the future," she replied, with a furtive caress;and, judging from his looks, he appeared to be equal to the latterresponsibility at least.
"I have made arrangements to start to Abilene in the morning to commutemy homestead and secure a title to it before the great sale of publiclands Monday, which, it is said, will be sold at a very low figure," hereplied, returning her caress with compound interest.
"Clifford, it looks mercenary and not at all sentimental for us to talkof business at such a time; but still we can love one another no lessfor that. The time is very short before that sale. It is a criticalmoment. I advise you to buy all the land that you can Monday; it will bevery valuable soon," she said, with that mingling of sentiment andbusiness peculiar to Western women.
"I shall invest what little I possess in that way, Mora; it is secure atleast. I have always longed to own more of the land to the north of thecorral; and this is, as you say, a golden opportunity to acquire it."
Then there was silence for a moment as Clifford sadly thought how littlehe really had for investment compared to the hoard that was lyinguseless in the chest. His father's gold was there still, but he had noreal claim upon it ("I must deliver it to-night," he mentallyconcluded); and an involuntary sigh escaped him at the thought thatstrangers yet might control all that rolling, fertile prairie to thenorth, which he had vainly dreamed of owning.
As if divining his thoughts, Mora quickly said, as her hand sought hisown with a gentle clasp:--
"Why not use some of that idle treasure for this purpose, Clifford? Ifit is mine, as it really seems to be, there will be no harm in investingpart of it in that way. The emergency is great for decision and swiftaction, so I really believe you should take a large sum along for thatpurpose, not less than fifty thousand dollars of the recovered tr
easure,at least."
"You dear, clear-headed little woman!" he replied radiantly; "that is acapital plan indeed; so, if you think it best, I will take that sum withme, and invest it in land for your benefit."
"No, no; you misunderstand me, Clifford; it is for your benefit that Imade the suggestion. You may take it as a loan, and repay me some timein the future," she added, demurely.
He was on the point of making some laughing rejoinder, when he startedat the recollection that it seemed like fate when he recalled the loanof exactly fifty thousand dollars which Ivarene had tendered hisfather, of which Mora was in total ignorance. Then, in a low tone, hetold her of the strange coincidence, where history was repeating itself;but he had not finished the story when a summons to dinner was heard,and he accompanied Mora to the Estill carriage, finishing the recital asthey walked slowly thither.
There were several guests clustered about the carriage, and Cliffordaccepted an invitation to remain for dinner, which Mrs. Estill gave him,and with Mora and young Downels, Miss Hanford and Mrs. Potter, Cliffordwas soon busy helping to spread the dinner on the snowy cloth beneaththe shade of a dense-foliaged elm. When the hampers were unpacked andthey were all seated upon the grass about the cloth, it was evident thatthe Estills could not be taxed with the sin of inhospitality, for theyhad brought enough in their hampers for an extra dozen guests.
There was boned turkey, hinting of sweet marjoram, garnished withquivering moulds of cherry-jelly; chicken salad, with sprays of parsley;tankards of silver and glass, filled with creamy milk; tall glasses ofjelly--pink, amber, and crimson; pyramids of cake, bronzed and frosty,that conveyed a faint suspicion they were only meant for show; greatbaskets of silver, marvels of frostwork on flower and vine, piled highwith purple grapes, peaches of white and crimson, and goldenoranges,--all of which, alas! were the contribution of far-offCalifornia.
Young Downels sat near Mora, who was as fascinating and gracious asever; but Clifford felt a contentment and trust too deep for jealousy,and was gay and witty to such a degree that Downels began to have asuspicion of the true situation, which was in no wise allayed when hesaw their eyes meet in a quick flash of love and admiration; so hespeedily transferred his attentions to Miss Hanford, who seemed not atall averse to receiving them "_ad infinitum_."
An afternoon of unalloyed bliss followed, and when our hero placed Morain the carriage, he had given her a promise to ride down on his returnfrom Abilene, the following week; then, as the stately barouche rolledaway, he hurried homeward to complete his preparations for to-morrow'sjourney.
At the supper-table, which was spread at a later hour than usual,Colonel Warlow looked grave and care-worn, while his wife was sad andthoughtful, remembering that Clifford was to leave them, perhapsforever, and this was his last night under the home-roof, a delusionwhich he was soon to dispel. Maud's face wore a look of cheerfulnesswhich puzzled her parents, who had not witnessed their son'smanoeuvres during the day; and Rob's eyes fairly danced withsuppressed excitement.
A Fortune Hunter; Or, The Old Stone Corral: A Tale of the Santa Fe Trail Page 20