Part 34 (2/2)
”We can take turns, and it certainly is beautiful.”
”Oh, beautiful!”
But when the road improved for quite half a mile, he too gave himself up to the sensation of being lost in the heart of a mountain. The valley was far behind them and out of sight. There were groves of ancient oaks in the hollows, turbulent streams foaming over ma.s.ses of rocks that had fallen from the cliffs above. Sometimes they looked down a thousand sheer feet into a bit of wilderness as unbroken as if on each side of the range man had not s.n.a.t.c.hed the fertile lands from the savage a century before.
The air grew colder and Isabel put on her covert coat. But it was a clear sparkling day, and when they reached the summit they could see San Francisco, a smoky mirage forty miles to the south, the ferry-boats crawling like beetles across the bay, the surf of the ocean on the rocks beyond the Golden Gate, a vast sweep of gray ocean; and the bulk of Tamalpais, that from this high point looked as if it had heaved itself free of the ma.s.s of mountains and forests about it. Two thousand feet below, their own valley, with its marsh and fertile ranches, looked like a dark ribbon between the hills, Rosewater like a toy village.
They trotted their horses for a few moments on the level and then rode down into the little valley where an unsuccessful farmer of solitary habit had some time since rented the few acres of land surrounding Mountain House, with the understanding that the best rooms were to be at the disposal of the lord of Lumalitas during the fis.h.i.+ng and hunting seasons. The log-house, or ”camp,” was very solid and had been built by the first James Otis, who was a mighty hunter; and the salmon-fis.h.i.+ng in the creek, at present containing but a few feet of water, was so fine that hardly a spring had pa.s.sed without a visit from the tenants of Lumalitas, who were constrained by the terms of the lease to keep the house in repair. Of late this had been the duty of the sub-lessee, and as no teams pa.s.sed his isolated dwelling, and as he had not seen fit to answer his landlord's communications, even verbally, by the boy from one of the lower ranches who had carried up the missives, all Gwynne knew was that Mr. Clink was alive, and that the ranch was free of winter debris.
They found the gentleman sitting on a stump. He had a hand on either knee, and his small watery unblinking eyes were fixed on s.p.a.ce. A beard, narrow and grizzled and stained, rested on his lean front, or stirred gently in the breeze. He neither rose, nor otherwise noticed the approach of his visitors.
Gwynne called, shouted, approached the verge of profanity, but he might as well have addressed the silent forest.
Isabel elevated her nose. ”To use the vernacular, he is on a long, slow, melancholy jag. I will go in and see how he keeps the house. It needs an airing at least. Every window is closed and probably has been all winter.”
She remained in-doors half an hour, putting things to rights with many mysterious touches known only to her s.e.x. When she returned to Gwynne she found him sunning himself on the porch with his back to Mr. Clink, who stolidly regarded an old stump of geranium.
”It is clean enough,” she said. ”But when you come, bring new blankets--or send them, and your provisions--the day before you bring your guests. I will come up with them and see that everything is in order. I might also turn the hose on Clink, if he has chosen that occasion to drench himself inside. At all events bring a cook--you can have Chuma; these people never can cook anything but fried meat and potatoes.”
Drifted leaves lay on the porch a foot deep. Isabel found a broom and swept vigorously, snubbing Gwynne's offer to do it himself. He watched her, crossly reflecting that she was never so unattractive as in that dust-colored divided habit, and wis.h.i.+ng that he had waited for the evening hour; even if infrequently seductive, she was always lovely in a becoming gown.
Finally, her labors over, she dusted an aged rocking-chair and sat down, fanning herself with her hat. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes sparkling, but she turned to look at the beautiful creek that had torn its way through the forest, and Gwynne suddenly felt that he hated her profile. During the last few weeks he had lost that sense of a constant and secret contest of wills, perhaps because his own had proved the stronger in the final engagement; perhaps, who knew? because she possessed all the infernal subtlety of the Spaniard. But her profile suggested relentless power, and he still had a secret hankering for the old-fas.h.i.+oned submissive female, liberal and indulgent to the s.e.x as he was. He had reflected that he had met so many handsome finely developed girls, with a sufficiency of animated brightness, but well within the type, during the past few weeks, that it was rather odd he had not been captured; particularly as several of the most ripping would add materially to his fortunes. But he had come to the conclusion sometime since, when he hardly knew, that he would prefer to remain unmarried, and enjoy the intimate companions.h.i.+p of a congenial and interesting creature like Isabel, whom he never quite understood. He cursed the stale old conventions that interfered with his desires.
Isabel turned suddenly and smiled. ”How fierce you look!” she said.
”What is the matter?”
”Everything. Some one, Mrs. Haight, I suppose, saw me riding home on your horse at three o'clock yesterday morning, and the whole town is by the ears. Judge Leslie undertook to break the news to me, and I told him I had gone out to propose, and then ridden about the country to calm my raging fires. I feel that I owe it to you to propose in good earnest, and such as I am you are welcome to me.”
”I never heard such a graceful proposal. I wouldn't marry you if Rosewater stood on its head.”
”I was rather brutal about it, and I must honestly confess that I'm not particularly keen on marrying you, but I think we'll have to marry, or be deuced uncomfortable--”
”Oh, nothing to what we should be if married. And Rosewater to me is a mere market for chickens and eggs. The only punishment they could inflict on me would be to burn down the hatcheries. I hate to bother with incubators.”
Gwynne stood up and knocked the ashes out of his pipe. ”We must be serious,” he said. ”They are really malignant about it. I have felt it in the air for some time. Every time I pa.s.s that she-devil, Mrs. Haight, on Main Street, her eyes contract with a sort of malicious warning.
'Just you wait!' is the way she would phrase it. And I always _feel_ her at her window when I ride home late. No woman of your age and beauty can defy public opinion alone. The world--and scandal spreads like a plague; San Francisco is only forty miles from Rosewater--the world can hurt you in a thousand ways, ruin your life. I really am only too willing to protect you, and I hope that you will marry me. I am sure we should get along--after a bit.”
”That was better. But I will not be driven into matrimony by gossip, or even scandal. That is no part of my scheme of life. And I know Rosewater better than you do. Mrs. Leslie, Anabel, Mrs. Colton, many of the most powerful, would never believe a word against me.”
”Not at first. But malicious tongues will wear the gloss from the best-befriended reputation in time. The kindest natures are conventional; and susceptible to all that take, or seem to take, a place in the ranks of established facts.”
”I won't do it,” said Isabel, stubbornly; and as she turned her profile to him he almost swore aloud. ”I shall conquer, or prove the whole modern game of woman a sham, a fool's paradise. I told you that I had set myself to drag strength out of the unknown forces. Well, I propose to use it now. And in your behalf as much as mine.”
”I can take care of myself.... I even think I could face the prospect of becoming your husband with a reasonable amount of equanimity.” She was looking straight at him again, her face deeply flushed, her eyes s.h.i.+ning. ”It never occurred to me before, but I believe that if you would permit yourself to develop, you might become the most fascinating woman in the world. And if you did, I swear that you should be happy.”
”I am happy, and in my own way. I get something out of every moment. Do you think I am going to run the risk of losing all that for anything so dubious as this old game of s.e.x?”
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