Part 13 (2/2)

Twenty-five miles, at the lowest rating, lay between the cabin and the house. How well Graham knew the way! How often he had pa.s.sed over it with Hal and O'Neil!--a jolly trio of sportsmen. The very day before he had loitered along the same route, taking the whole day to accomplish the distance, walking sometimes with his horse following him, and never travelling at a greater speed than an easy trot. How different his thoughts had been then, when he had fancied that he had found a closer companions.h.i.+p than that of a loving woman's heart. Now he saw not the trees nor the wood creatures,--only that one villanous face, with its freshly bleeding wounds, with its old scar red and ugly.

Five miles accomplished: here is the great oak-tree which the lightning had struck half a century ago; but twenty miles now lie before him.

Another landmark is pa.s.sed,--the iron spring, with its red mouth framed in green ferns, where he had once journeyed to bring _her_ a flask of the strengthening water. On and on they fly, startling the birds in the thickets and the foxes in their coverts, racing with the lazy breeze which puffs slowly along and is soon left behind by the horse's speed.

At the spring on the hillside, where Millicent's hand had checked his shooting of the deer, the rider draws rein and springs to the ground; while the gasping horse stands for a brief breathing-s.p.a.ce, drawing long, painful breaths. Graham cools his heated brow in the rocky basin, and gives his horse a mouthful of the refres.h.i.+ng water. Then they start away again towards the house where so many happy hours of his life have been spent; where he first saw Millicent! It is a terrible ride, and one that the man never will forget to his dying day. The anguish of doubt and fear, the awful pace at which he rides, which makes every mile he accomplishes seem like to be the last, will never be forgotten by him in the quiet after-years. Now but ten miles separate him from the vine-clad house; quickly are they accomplished; and in a s.p.a.ce of time too short to be credited by those towards whom he rides, he reaches the high hill which looks down upon the valley. The familiar look of the surroundings surprises him. A blue feather of smoke curls about the red chimney; the trees in the orchard, the cattle browsing on the hills, look just as he has seen them a thousand times before; nothing betokens any unusual state of affairs within the quiet house. The brave horse gathers himself together for a last gallop; and the stones of the hillside fly from his hoofs as man and beast thunder down the rocky path which loses itself in the wide farm-road at the edge of the orchard.

From this point he commands a view of Millicent's window. He gives a low groan as he looks up for some sign of life,--the heavy blinds are tightly closed.

CHAPTER XII.

”Most sacrilegious murder hath broke ope The Lord's anointed temple, and stole thence The life o' the building.”

The breakfast table at the San Rosario Ranch was usually a merry one; but on the morning after what Hal had called Millicent's ”magnetic exhibition,” the usual good spirits were missing. Millicent took her accustomed place at Deering's side; and Galbraith marked the extraordinary change which she had suffered since she had bade him good-night the evening before. Her face had blanched to a whiteness which made the ebon lines of eyebrows and lashes seem unnatural. Her mouth was pale and contracted, and her expression of horrified antic.i.p.ation reminded him of the look in the eyes of a deer at bay.

What could have come to the girl? he asked himself in dismay; with a strange consciousness that whatever should befall her of good or evil from that time forth would have to him an interest beyond all else in the world. She ate her breakfast mechanically, and answered all that was said in which she could be supposed to have an interest. She laughed once, too, at one of Hal's jokes; but the sound was rough and strained. Mrs. Deering and Barbara, occupied with some household complication, merely noticed that Millicent seemed tired; and Hal put her odd look and manner down to the score of her being in love, which in his eyes accounted for every freak or unexplained symptom of hers.

It had been proposed that the day should be spent out-of-doors, at a place which Millicent had long wished to visit,--the little island in the river, below the deserted mill. Galbraith had remained to be of the party; and his two friends had promised to ride over from the camp and join them at the appointed place. Just before they started, old John arrived with a note to Mrs. Deering from Graham, who wrote that he should not be able to be of the party. Hal and Millicent drove together, as they had done on that day when Graham, in accordance with California etiquette, had stopped to kill the rattlesnakes. Old Sphinx was doing his best to keep up with the mule team, when Millicent's sensitive ears detected the sound of horses' hoofs behind them.

Presently, through the thick cloud of dust, she descried two hors.e.m.e.n riding at full gallop towards them. The sunlight and the veil of dust made it impossible to see what manner of men they were until Millicent observed that each carried over his shoulder a long object, which glittered in the sunlight.

”Have you brought your pistols?” she asked.

”Yes, Princess, but they are in the wagon. I expected till the last moment that Graham would turn up to take you, and that I should drive the team. Why do you ask? There is no danger of our being molested.”

”Look at those men. Are not those gun barrels I see on their shoulders?”

”Yes; but they are probably peaceful hunters.”

The young man spoke in a perfectly careless tone, to rea.s.sure his companion; but Millicent noticed that he occasionally looked behind him as the riders gained on them. Finally, as the men drew near, Millicent saw the rider nearest her s.h.i.+ft the gun from his shoulder and rest it across the saddle-bow, as if preparing to take aim. Hal, who had seen the action, instantly called to Millicent to catch the reins, and held up both his hands. By this time the men were close upon them, and the one who had s.h.i.+fted his weapon called out in a rough voice,--

”All right, boss; we know you ain't got no money, and we don't want your life to-day.” His companion laughed aloud, and striking spurs to their horses, they galloped down the high-road. Hal laughed as heartily as the supposed highwayman, saying,--

”Well, that's a greaser's idea of a joke, I suppose. Adventure number one has befallen us with few bad consequences. I don't think you were half as frightened as you were the other day by the snakes.”

”No, I fancy I was not. I should not much mind being killed to-day.”

This with a little, bitter laugh.

”And why? Let us wait till after luncheon. Barbara has put up a capital venison pasty,--a real English one, out of the Queen's own receipt book.”

”Well, we will wait for the pie, to please you.”

The drive was accomplished with the usual desultory chit-chat, Hal doing rather more than his share of the joking. As they pa.s.sed the little hovel, the wild children ran out, as they had upon the day when they had visited the camp in the woods; and soon the gray bridge and the little island were reached. The baskets were unpacked and the luncheon spread upon the gra.s.s by the time the guests arrived. Among them were O'Neil, Hartley, Ferrara, and Mrs. Shallop, who had come over by the train; with a party of people from the village, in whom Millicent had never taken much interest. Galbraith never left Millicent's side; sparing her the necessity of talking by keeping up an incessant stream of conversation which she heard vaguely, and of which she understood not one word. In after days the import of all the young man said came back to her; and she remembered the quaint Indian legends, the reminiscences of life on the two edges of the continent, with which Maurice Galbraith kept the others of the party from her side. She realized what he was doing, and knew that he only, in all the company, understood and sympathized with her half-dazed mood; and for his efforts he received more than one little smile, sadder than tears.

This is one of the stories which the lawyer told her:--

”In the old days, when Father Junipero and his small band of priests and soldiers came into the wilderness of California, with the cross uplifted in one hand, the sword grasped in the other, there lived on this island where we now sit, a beautiful Indian maiden. Her name was a very long one, and its meaning in our language is the Smile of the Morning. She lived with the old chief, her father, in a wigwam, where also lived her sisters and brothers and various of her cousins and distant relatives.

The old chief had many daughters, but the Smile of the Morning was his favorite child; and she it was who cooked his food for him, when he did not eat it raw, and brought him his bow and arrows when he started on a hunting party. The sisters of the favorite daughter all found mates among the sons of the tribe, but she lived alone with only the wild bird in the madrone tree for her lover. Her sisters, each of whom carried a pappoose upon her back, laughed at the Smile of the Morning, and said that she would die without a husband; but the girl did not mind them.

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