Part 37 (1/2)
”Train,” said Octavia; ”necessity; ten minutes ago; home. Your complexion's gone, Teddy. Now, how--what--when--where?”
”I'm working down here,” said Teddy. He cast side glances about the station as one does who tries to combine politeness with duty.
”You didn't notice on the train,” he asked, ”an old lady with gray curls and a poodle, who occupied two seats with her bundles and quarrelled with the conductor, did you?”
”I think not,” answered Octavia, reflecting. ”And you haven't, by any chance, noticed a big, gray-mustached man in a blue s.h.i.+rt and six-shooters, with little flakes of merino wool sticking in his hair, have you?”
”Lots of 'em,” said Teddy, with symptoms of mental delirium under the strain. ”Do you happen to know any such individual?”
”No; the description is imaginary. Is your interest in the old lady whom you describe a personal one?”
”Never saw her in my life. She's painted entirely from fancy. She owns the little piece of property where I earn my bread and b.u.t.ter--the Rancho de las Sombras. I drove up to meet her according to arrangement with her lawyer.”
Octavia leaned against the wall of the telegraph office. Was this possible? And didn't he know?
”Are you the manager of that ranch?” she asked weakly.
”I am,” said Teddy, with pride.
”I am Mrs. Beaupree,” said Octavia faintly; ”but my hair never would curl, and I was polite to the conductor.”
For a moment that strange, grown-up look came back, and removed Teddy miles away from her.
”I hope you'll excuse me,” he said, rather awkwardly. ”You see, I've been down here in the chaparral a year. I hadn't heard. Give me your checks, please, and I'll have your traps loaded into the wagon. Jose will follow with them. We travel ahead in the buckboard.”
Seated by Teddy in a feather-weight buckboard, behind a pair of wild, cream-coloured Spanish ponies, Octavia abandoned all thought for the exhilaration of the present. They swept out of the little town and down the level road toward the south. Soon the road dwindled and disappeared, and they struck across a world carpeted with an endless reach of curly mesquite gra.s.s. The wheels made no sound. The tireless ponies bounded ahead at an unbroken gallop. The temperate wind, made fragrant by thousands of acres of blue and yellow wild flowers, roared gloriously in their ears. The motion was aerial, ecstatic, with a thrilling sense of perpetuity in its effect. Octavia sat silent, possessed by a feeling of elemental, sensual bliss. Teddy seemed to be wrestling with some internal problem.
”I'm going to call you madama,” he announced as the result of his labours. ”That is what the Mexicans will call you--they're nearly all Mexicans on the ranch, you know. That seems to me about the proper thing.”
”Very well, Mr. Westlake,” said Octavia, primly.
”Oh, now,” said Teddy, in some consternation, ”that's carrying the thing too far, isn't it?”
”Don't worry me with your beastly etiquette. I'm just beginning to live. Don't remind me of anything artificial. If only this air could be bottled! This much alone is worth coming for. Oh, look I there goes a deer!”
”Jack-rabbit,” said Teddy, without turning his head.
”Could I--might I drive?” suggested Octavia, panting, with rose-tinted cheeks and the eye of an eager child.
”On one condition. Could I--might I smoke?”
”Forever!” cried Octavia, taking the lines with solemn joy. ”How shall I know which way to drive?”
”Keep her sou' by sou'east, and all sail set. You see that black speck on the horizon under that lowermost Gulf cloud? That's a group of live-oaks and a landmark. Steer halfway between that and the little hill to the left. I'll recite you the whole code of driving rules for the Texas prairies: keep the reins from under the horses' feet, and swear at 'em frequent.”
”I'm too happy to swear, Ted. Oh, why do people buy yachts or travel in palace-cars, when a buckboard and a pair of plugs and a spring morning like this can satisfy all desire?”
”Now, I'll ask you,” protested Teddy, who was futilely striking match after match on the dashboard, ”not to call those denizens of the air plugs. They can kick out a hundred miles between daylight and dark.”
At last he succeeded in s.n.a.t.c.hing a light for his cigar from the flame held in the hollow of his hands.
”Room!” said Octavia, intensely. ”That's what produces the effect. I know now what I've wanted--scope--range--room!”