Part 8 (2/2)
Nevertheless, after a moment's survey of her lonely chamber, she hastily slipped on a pale satin dressing-gown, and, darting across the pa.s.sage, dashed into the bedroom of the youngest Miss Wilson, haled that sentimental brunette from her night toilet, dragged her into her own chamber, and, enwrapping her in a huge mantle of silk and gray fur, fed her with chocolates and chestnuts, and, reclining on her sympathetic shoulder, continued her arraignment of the world and its follies until nearly daybreak.
It was past noon when Maruja awoke, to find Faquita standing by her bedside with ill-concealed impatience.
”I ventured to awaken the Dona Maruja,” she said, with vivacious alacrity, ”for news! Terrible news! The American, Dr. West, is found dead this morning in the San Jose road!”
”Dr. West dead!” repeated Maruja, thoughtfully, but without emotion.
”Surely dead--very dead. He was thrown from his horse and dragged by the stirrups--how far, the Blessed Virgin only knows. But he is found dead--this Dr. West--his foot in the broken stirrup, his hand holding a piece of the bridle! I thought I would waken the Dona Maruja, that no one else should break it to the Dona Maria.”
”That no one else should break it to my mother?” repeated Maruja, coldly. ”What mean you, girl?”
”I mean that no stranger should tell her,” stammered Faquita, lowering her bold eyes.
”You mean,” said Maruja, slowly, ”that no silly, staring, tongue-wagging gossip should dare to break upon the morning devotions of the lady mother with open-mouthed tales of horror! You are wise, Faquita! I will tell her myself. Help me to dress.”
But the news had already touched the outer sh.e.l.l of the great house, and little groups of the visitors were discussing it upon the veranda.
For once, the idle badinage of a pleasure-seeking existence was suspended; stupid people with facts came to the fore; practical people with inquiring minds became interesting; servants were confidentially appealed to; the local expressman became a hero, and it was even noticed that he was intelligent and good-looking.
”What makes it more distressing,” said Raymond, joining one of the groups, ”is, that it appears the Doctor visited Mrs. Saltonstall last evening, and left the casa at eleven. Sanchez, who was perhaps the last person who saw him alive, says that he noticed his horse was very violent, and the Doctor did not seem able to control him. The accident probably happened half an hour later, as he was picked up about three miles from here, and from appearances must have been dragged, with his foot in the stirrup, fully half a mile before the girth broke and freed the saddle and stirrup together. The mustang, with nothing on but his broken bridle, was found grazing at the rancho as early as four o'clock, an hour before the body of his master was discovered by the men sent from the rancho to look for him.”
”Eh, but the man must have been clean daft to have trusted himself to one of those savage beasts of the country,” said Mr. Buchanan. ”And he was no so young either--about sixty, I should say. It didna look even respectable, I remember, when we met him the other day, careering over the country for all the world like one of those crazy Mexicans. And yet he seemed steady and sensible enough when he didna let his schemes of 'improvements' run away with him like yon furious beastie. Eh well, puir man--it was a sudden ending! And his family--eh?”
”I don't think he has one--at least here,” said Raymond. ”You can't always tell in California. I believe he was a widower.”
”Ay, man, but the heirs; there must be considerable property?” said Buchanan, impatiently.
”Oh, the heirs. If he's made no will, which doesn't look like so prudent and practical a man as he was--the heirs will probably crop up some day.”
”PROBABLY! crop up some day,” repeated Buchanan, aghast.
”Yes. You must remember that WE don't take heirs quite as much into account as you do in the old country. The loss of the MAN, and how to replace HIM, is much more to us than the disposal of his property.
Now, Doctor West was a power far beyond his actual possessions--and we will know very soon how much those were dependent upon him.”
”What do you mean?” asked Buchanan, anxiously.
”I mean that five minutes after the news of the Doctor's death was confirmed, your friend Mr. Stanton sent a messenger with a despatch to the nearest telegraphic office, and that he himself drove over to catch Aladdin before the news could reach him.”
Buchanan looked uneasy; so did one or two of the native Californians who composed the group, and who had been listening attentively. ”And where is this same telegraphic office?” asked Buchanan, cautiously.
”I'll drive you over there presently,” responded Raymond, grimly.
”There'll be nothing doing here to-day. As Dr. West was a near neighbor of the family, his death suspends our pleasure-seeking until after the funeral.”
Mr. Buchanan moved away. Captain Carroll and Garnier drew nearer the speaker. ”I trust it will not withdraw from us the society of Miss Saltonstall,” said Garnier, lightly--”at least, that she will not be inconsolable.”
”She did not seem to be particularly sympathetic with Dr. West the other day,” said Captain Carroll, coloring slightly with the recollection of the morning in the summer-house, yet willing, in his hopeless pa.s.sion, even to share that recollection with his rival. ”Did you not think so, Monsieur Garnier?”
”Very possibly; and, as Miss Saltonstall is quite artless and childlike in the expression of her likes and dislikes,” said Raymond, with the faintest touch of irony, ”you can judge as well as I can.”
Garnier parried the thrust lightly. ”You are no kinder to our follies than you are to the grand pa.s.sions of these gentlemen. Confess, you frightened them horribly. You are---what is called--a bear--eh? You depreciate in the interests of business.”
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