Tales of Trail and Town by Bret Harte (ebook offline reader TXT) đ
- Author: Bret Harte
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âI will speak with the colonel tonight,â said Peter gloomily.
âLord save yer honor,â returned the trooper gratefully, âand if ye could be sayinâ that the LEDDY tould you,âit would only be the merest taste of a loi yeâd be tellinâ,âand youâd save me from breakinâ me word to the leftenant.â
âI shall of course speak to my sister first,â returned Peter, with a guilty consciousness that he had accepted the trooperâs story mainly from his previous knowledge of his sisterâs character. Nevertheless, in spite of this foregone conclusion, he DID speak to her. To his surprise she did not deny it. Lieutenant Forsyth,âa vain and conceited fool,âwhose silly attentions she had accepted solely that she might get recreation beyond the fort,âhad presumed to tell her what SHE must do! As if SHE was one of those stupid officersâ wives or sisters! And it never would have happened if heâPeterâhad let her remain at the reservation with the Indian agentâs wife, or if âCharleyâ (the gentle Lascelles) were here! HE would have let her go, or taken her there. Besides all the while she was among friends; HIS, Peterâs own friends,âthe people whose cause he was championing! In vain did Peter try to point out to her that these âpeopleâ were still children in mind and impulse, and capable of vacillation or even treachery. He remembered he was talking to a child in mind and impulse, who had shown the same qualities, and in trying to convince her of her danger he felt he was only voicing the common arguments of his opponents.
He spoke also to the colonel, excusing her through her ignorance, her trust in his influence with the savages, and the general derangement of her health. The colonel, relieved of his suspicions of a promising young officer, was gentle and sympathetic, but firm as to Peterâs future course. In a moment of caprice and willfulness she might imperil the garrison as she had her escort, and, more than that, she was imperiling Peterâs influence with the Indians. Absurd stories had come to his ears regarding the attitude of the reservation towards him. He thought she ought to return home as quickly as possible. Fortunately an opportunity offered. The general commanding had advised him of the visit to the fort of a party of English tourists who had been shooting in the vicinity, and who were making the fort the farthest point of their western excursion. There were three or four ladies in the party, and as they would be returning to the line of railroad under escort, she could easily accompany them. This, added Colonel Carter, was also Mrs. Carterâs opinion,âshe was a woman of experience, and had a married daughter of her own. In the mean time Peter had better not broach the subject to his sister, but trust to the arrival of the strangers, who would remain for a week, and who would undoubtedly divert Mrs. Lascellesâ impressible mind, and eventually make the proposition more natural and attractive.
In the interval Peter revisited the reservation, and endeavored to pacify the irritation that had sprung from his previous inspection. The outrage at Post Oak Bottom he was assured had no relation to the incident at the reservation, but was committed by some stragglers from other tribes who had not yet accepted the government bounty, yet had not been thus far classified as âhostile.â There had been no âGhost Dancingâ nor other indication of disturbance. The colonel had not deemed it necessary to send out an exemplary force, or make a counter demonstration. The incident was allowed to drop. At the reservation Peter had ignored the previous conduct of the chiefs towards him; had with quiet courage exposed himself fullyâunarmed and unattendedâamongst them, and had as fully let it be known that this previous incident was the reason that his sister had not accompanied him on his second visit. He left them at the close of the second day more satisfied in his mind, and perhaps in a more enthusiastic attitude towards his report.
As he came within sound of the sunset bugles, he struck a narrower trail which led to the fort, through an oasis of oaks and cottonwoods and a small stream or âbranch,â which afterwards lost itself in the dusty plain. He had already passed a few settlerâs cabins, a sutlerâs shop, and other buildings that had sprung up around this armed nucleus of civilizationâwhich, in due season, was to become a frontier town. But as yet the brief wood was wild and secluded; frequented only by the women and children of the fort, within whose protecting bounds it stood, and to whose formal âparade,â and trim white and green cottage âquarters,â it afforded an agreeable relief. As he rode abstractedly forward under the low cottonwood vault he felt a strange influence stealing over him, an influence that was not only a present experience but at the same time a far-off memory. The concave vault above deepened; the sunset light from the level horizon beyond streamed through the leaves as through the chequers of stained glass windows; through the two shafts before him stretched the pillared aisles of Ashley Church! He was riding as in a dream, and when a figure suddenly slipped across his pathway from a column-like tree trunk, he woke with the disturbance and sense of unreality of a dream. For he saw Lady Elfrida standing before him!
It was not a mere memory conjured up by association, for although the figure, face, and attitude were the same, there were certain changes of costume which the eye of recollection noticed. In place of the smart narrow-brimmed sailor hat he remembered, she was wearing a slouched cavalry hat with a gold cord around its crown, that, with all its becomingness and picturesque audacity, seemed to become characteristic and respectable, as a crest to her refined head, and as historic as a Lely canvas. She wore a flannel shirt, belted in at her slight waist with a band of yellow leather, defining her small hips, and short straight pleatless skirts that fell to her trim ankles and buckled leather shoes. She was fresh and cool, wholesome and clean, free and unfettered; indeed, her beauty seemed only an afterthought or accident. So much so that when Peter saw her afterwards, amidst the billowy, gauzy, and challenging graces of the officerâs wives, who were dressed in their best and prettiest frocks to welcome her, the eye turned naturally from that suggestion of enhancement to the girl who seemed to defy it. She was clearly not an idealized memory, a spirit or a ghost, but naturalistic and rosy; he thought a trifle rosier, as she laughingly addressed him:â
âI suppose it isnât quite fair to surprise you like that,â she said, with an honest girlish handshake, âfor you see I know all about you now, and what you are doing here, and even when you were expected; and I dare say you thought we were still in England, if you remembered us at all. And we havenât met since that day at Ashley Church when I put my foot in it,âor rather on your pet protegeâs, the Indianâs: you remember Major Atherlyâs tomb? And to think that all the while we didnât know that you were a public man and a great political reformer, and had a fad like this. Why, weâd have got up meetings for you, and my father would have presided,â heâs always fond of doing these things,âand weâd have passed resolutions, and given you subscriptions, and Bibles, and flannel shirts, and revolversâbut I believe you draw the line at that. My brother was saying only the other day that you werenât half praised enough for going in for this sort of thing when you were so rich, and neednât care. And so thatâs why you rushed away from Ashley Grange,âjust to come here and work out your mission?â
His whole life, his first wild Californian dream, his English visit, the revelation of Gray Eagle, the final collapse of his old beliefs, were whirling through his brain to the music of this clear young voice. And by some cruel irony of circumstance it seemed now to even mock his later dreams of expiation as it also called back his unhappy experience of the last week.
âHave youâhave youââhe stammered with a faint smile, âseen my sister?â
âNot yet,â said Lady Elfrida. âI believe she is not well and is confined to her room; you will introduce me, wonât you?â she added eagerly. âOf course, when we heard that there was an Atherly here we inquired about you; and I told them you were a relation of ours,â she went on with a half-mischievous shyness,ââyou remember the de Bracys,âand they seemed surprised and rather curious. I suppose one does not talk so much about these things over here, and I dare say you have so much to occupy your mind you donât talk of us in England.â With the quickness of a refined perception she saw a slight shade in his face, and changed the subject. âAnd we have had such a jolly time; we have met so many pleasant people; and theyâve all been so awfully good to us, from the officials and officers down to the plainest working-man. And all so naturally tooâso different from us. I sometimes think we have to work ourselves up to be civil to strangers.â âNo,â she went on gayly, in answer to his protesting gesture, and his stammered reminder of his own reception. âNo. You came as a sort of kinsman, and Sir Edward knew all about you before he asked you down to the Grangeâ or even sent over for me from the Towers. No! you Americans take people on their âface value,â as my brother Reggy says, and we always want to know what are the âsecurities.â And then American men are more gallant, though,â she declared mischievously, âI think you are an exception in that way. Indeed,â she went on, âthe more I see of your countrymen the less you seem like them. You are more like us,âmore like an Englishmanâindeed, more like an Englishman than most Englishmen,âI mean in
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