by Bret Harte
Zephas had not yet come. This was unusual,for he was generally as regular as the afternoon "trades" which blewhim there. There was nothing to detain him in this weather and at thisseason. She began to be vaguely uneasy; then a little angry at this newdevelopment of his incompatibility. Then it occurred to her, for thefirst time in her wifehood, to think what she would do if he were lost.Yet, in spite of some pain, terror, and perplexity at the possibility,her dominant thought was that she would be a free woman to order herlife as she liked.
It was after ten before his lateen sail flapped in the little cove. Shewas waiting to receive him on the shore. His good-humored hirsute facewas slightly apologetic in expression, but flushed and disturbed withsome new excitement to which an extra glass or two of spirits hadapparently added intensity. The contrast between his evidentindulgence and the previous abstemiousness of her late guest struck herunpleasantly. "Well--I declare," she said indignantly, "so THAT'S whatkept you!"
"No," he said quickly; "there's been awful times over in 'Frisco!Everybody just wild, and the Vigilance Committee in session. JoHenderson's killed! Shot by Wynyard Marion in a duel! He'll be lynched,sure as a gun, if they ketch him."
"But I thought men who fought duels always went free."
"Yes, but this ain't no common duel; they say the whole thing wasplanned beforehand by them Southern fire-eaters to get rid o' Hendersonbecause he's a Northern man and anti-slavery, and that they picked outColonel Marion to do it because he was a dead shot. They got him toinsult Henderson, so he was bound to challenge Marion, and that giv'Marion the chyce of weppings. It was a reg'lar put up job to kill him."
"And what's all this to do with you?" she asked, with irritation.
"Hold on, won't you! and I'll tell you. I was pickin' up nets offSaucelito about noon, when I was hailed by one of them Vigilance tugs,and they set me to stand off and on the shore and watch that Mariondidn't get away, while they were scoutin' inland. Ye see THE DUEL TOOKPLACE JUST OVER THE BLUFF THERE--BEHIND YE--and they allowed thatMarion had struck away north for Mendocino to take ship there. For afteroverhaulin' his second's boat, they found out that they had come awayfrom Saucelito ALONE. But they sent a tug around by sea to Mendocino tohead him off there, while they're closin' in around him inland. They'rebound to catch him sooner or later. But you ain't listenin', Mollie?"
She was--in every fibre--but with her head turned towards the window,and the invisible Golden Gate through which the fugitive had escaped.For she saw it all now--that glorious vision--her high-bred, handsomeguest and Wynyard Marion were one and the same person. And this rough,commonplace man before her--her own husband--had been basely set tocapture him!
PART II.
During that evening and the next Mrs. Bunker, without betraying hersecret, or exciting the least suspicion on the part of her husband,managed to extract from him not only a rough description of Marion whichtallied with her own impressions, but a short history of his career. Hewas a famous politician who had held high office in the South; he was anaccomplished lawyer; he had served in the army; he was a fiery speaker;he had a singular command of men. He was unmarried, but there were queerstories of his relations with some of the wives of prominent officials,and there was no doubt that he used them in some of his politicalintrigues. He, Zephas, would bet something that it was a woman who hadhelped him off! Did she speak?
Yes, she had spoken. It made her sick to sit there and hear suchstories! Because a man did not agree with some people in politics itwas perfectly awful to think how they would abuse him and take away hischaracter! Men were so awfully jealous, too; if another man happened tobe superior and fine-looking there wasn't anything bad enough for themto say about him! No! she wasn't a slavery sympathizer either, andhadn't anything to do with man politics, although she was a Southernwoman, and the MacEwans had come from Kentucky and owned slaves. Ofcourse, he, Zephas, whose ancestors were Cape Cod Quakers and had alwaysbeen sailors, couldn't understand. She did not know what he meant bysaying "what a long tail our cat's got," but if he meant to call hera cat, and was going to use such language to her, he had better havestayed in San Francisco with his Vigilance friends. And perhaps it wouldhave been better if he had stayed there before he took her away from herparents at Martinez. Then she wouldn't have been left on a desert rockwithout any chance of seeing the world, or ever making any friends oracquaintances!
It was their first quarrel. Discreetly made up by Mrs. Bunker in somealarm at betraying herself; honestly forgiven by Zephas in a rude,remorseful consciousness of her limited life. One or two nights later,when he returned, it was with a mingled air of mystery and satisfaction."Well, Mollie," he said cheerfully, "it looks as if your pets were notas bad as I thought them."
"My pets!" repeated Mrs. Bunker, with a faint rising of color.
"Well, I call these Southern Chivs your pets, Mollie, because you stuckup for them so the other night. But never mind that now. What do yousuppose has happened? Jim Rider, you know, the Southern banker andspeculator, who's a regular big Injin among the 'Chivs,' he sent CapSimmons down to the wharf while I was unloadin' to come up and see him.Well, I went, and what do y'u think? He told me he was gettin' up anAmerican Fishin' Company, and wanted me to take charge of a first-classschooner on shares. Said he heard of me afore, and knew I was anAmerican and a white man, and just the chap ez could knock themEytalians outer the market."
"Yes," interrupted Mrs. Bunker quickly, but emphatically, "the fishinginterest ought to be American and protected by the State, with regularcharters and treaties."
"I say, Mollie," said her astonished but admiring husband, "you've beenreadin' the papers or listenin' to stump speakin' sure."
"Go on," returned Mrs. Bunker impatiently, "and say what happened next."
"Well," returned Zephas, "I first thought, you see, that it had suthin'to do with that Marion business, particklerly ez folks allowed he washidin' somewhere yet, and they wanted me to run him off. So I thoughtRider might as well know that I wasn't to be bribed, so I ups and tellshim how I'd been lyin' off Saucelito the other day workin' for theother side agin him. With that he laughs, says he didn't want any betterfriends than me, but that I must be livin' in the backwoods not toknow that Wynyard Marion had escaped, and was then at sea on his wayto Mexico or Central America. Then we agreed to terms, and the long andshort of it is, Mollie, that I'm to have the schooner with a hundred andfifty dollars a month, and ten per cent. shares after a year! Looks likebiz, eh, Mollie, old girl? but you don't seem pleased."
She had put aside the arm with which he was drawing her to him, andhad turned her white face away to the window. So HE had gone--thisstranger--this one friend of her life--she would never see him again,and all that would ever come of it was this pecuniary benefit to herhusband, who had done nothing. He would not even offer her money, but hehad managed to pay his debt to her in this way that their vulgar povertywould appreciate. And this was the end of her dream!
"You don't seem to take it in, Mollie," continued the surprised Zephas."It means a house in 'Frisco and a little cabin for you on the schoonerwhen you like."
"I don't want it! I won't have it! I shall stay here," she burst outwith a half-passionate, half-childish cry, and ran into her bedroom,leaving the astonished Zephas helpless in his awkward consternation.
"By Gum! I must take her to 'Frisco right off, or she'll be havin' thehigh strikes here alone. I oughter knowed it would come to this!" Butalthough he consulted "Cap" Simmons the next day, who informed him itwas all woman's ways when "struck," and advised him to pay out all theline he could at such delicate moments, she had no recurrence of theoutbreak. On the contrary, for days and weeks following she seemedcalmer, older, and more "growed up;" although she resisted changing herseashore dwelling for San Francisco, she accompanied him on one or twoof his "deep sea" trips down the coast, and seemed happier on theirsouthern limits. She had taken to reading the political papers andspeeches, and some cheap American histories. Captain Bunker's crew,profoundly convinced that their skipper's wife w
as a "woman's rights"fanatic, with the baleful qualities of "sea lawyer" superadded, marveledat his bringing her.
It was on returning home from one of these trips that they touchedbriefly at San Francisco, where the Secretary of the Fishing Companycame on board. Mrs. Bunker was startled to recognize in him one of thetwo gentlemen who had taken Mr. Marion off in the boat, but as he didnot appear to recognize her even after an awkward introduction by herhusband, she would have