05-the prieslty prerogative-第2节
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virile term。
It is a clever woman who can fill out the many weak places in an
inefficient man; by her own indomitability; re…enforce his vacillating
nature; infuse her ambitious soul into his; and spur him on to great
achievements。 And it is indeed a very clever and tactful woman who can
do all this; and do it so subtly that the man receives all the
credit and believes in his inmost heart that everything is due to
him and him alone。
This is what Grace Bentham proceeded to do。 Arriving in Dawson
with a few pounds of flour and several letters of introduction; she at
once applied herself to the task of pushing her big baby to the
fore。 It was she who melted the stony heart and wrung credit from
the rude barbarian who presided over the destiny of the P。 C。 Company;
yet it was Edwin Bentham to whom the concession was ostensibly
granted。 It was she who dragged her baby up and down creeks; over
benches and divides; and on a dozen wild stampedes; yet everybody
remarked what an energetic fellow that Bentham was。 It was she who
studied maps; and catechised miners; and hammered geography and
locations into his hollow head; till everybody marveled at his broad
grasp of the country and knowledge of its conditions。 Of course;
they said the wife was a brick; and only a few wise ones appreciated
and pitied the brave little woman。
She did the work; he got the credit and reward。 In the Northwest
Territory a married woman cannot stake or record a creek; bench; or
quartz claim; so Edwin Bentham went down to the Gold Commissioner
and filed on Bench Claim 23; second tier; of French Hill。 And when
April came they were washing out a thousand dollars a day; with
many; many such days in prospect。
At the base of French Hill lay Eldorado Creek; and on a creek
claim stood the cabin of Clyde Wharton。 At present he was not
washing out a diurnal thousand dollars; but his dumps grew; shift by
shift; and there would come a time when those dumps would pass through
his sluice…boxes; depositing in the riffles; in the course of half a
dozen days; several hundred thousand dollars。 He often sat in that
cabin; smoked his pipe; and dreamed beautiful little dreams;… dreams
in which neither the dumps nor the half…ton of dust in the P。 C。
Company's big safe; played a part。
And Grace Bentham; as she washed tin dishes in her hillside cabin;
often glanced down into Eldorado Creek; and dreamed;… not of dumps nor
dust; however。 They met frequently; as the trail to the one claim
crossed the other; and there is much to talk about in the Northland
spring; but never once; by the light of an eye nor the slip of a
tongue; did they speak their hearts。
This is as it was at first。 But one day Edwin Bentham was brutal。
All boys are thus; besides; being a French Hill king now; he began
to think a great deal of himself and to forget all he owed to his
wife。 On this day; Wharton heard of it; and waylaid Grace Bentham; and
talked wildly。 This made her very happy; though she would not
listen; and made him promise to not say such things again。 Her hour
had not come。
But the sun swept back on its northern journey; the black of
midnight changed to the steely color of dawn; the snow slipped away;
the water dashed again over the glacial drift; and the wash…up
began。 Day and night the yellow clay and scraped bedrock hurried
through the swift sluices; yielding up its ransom to the strong men
from the Southland。 And in that time of tumult came Grace Bentham's
hour。
To all of us such hours at some time come;… that is; to us who are
not too phlegmatic。 Some people are good; not from inherent love of
virtue; but from sheer laziness。 But those of us who know weak moments
may understand。
Edwin Bentham was weighing dust over the bar of the saloon at the
Forks… altogether too much of his dust went over that pine board… when
his wife came down the hill and slipped into Clyde Wharton's cabin。
Wharton was not expecting her; but that did not alter the case。 And
much subsequent misery and idle waiting might have been avoided; had
not Father Roubeau seen this and turned aside from the main creek
trail。
'My child;…'
'Hold on; Father Roubeau! Though I'm not of your faith; I respect
you; but you can't come in between this woman and me!'
'You know what you are doing?'
'Know! Were you God Almighty; ready to fling me into eternal fire;
I'd bank my will against yours in this matter。'
Wharton had placed Grace on a stool and stood belligerently before
her。
'You sit down on that chair and keep quiet;' he continued;
addressing the Jesuit。 'I'll take my innings now。 You can have yours
after。'
Father Roubeau bowed courteously and obeyed。 He was an easy…going
man and had learned to bide his time。 Wharton pulled a stool alongside
the woman's; smothering her hand in his。
'Then you do care for me; and will take me away?' Her face seemed to
reflect the peace of this man; against whom she might draw close for
shelter。
'Dear; don't you remember what I said before? Of course I…'
'But how can you?… the wash…up?'
'Do you think that worries? Anyway; I'll give the job to Father
Roubeau; here。 I can trust him to safely bank the dust with the
company。'
'To think of it!… I'll never see him again。'
'A blessing!'
'And to go… O; Clyde; I can't! I can't!'
'There; there; of course you can。 just let me plan it。… You see;
as soon as we get a few traps together; we'll start; and…'
'Suppose he comes back?'
'I'll break every…'
'No; no! No fighting; Clyde! Promise me that。'
'All right! I'll just tell the men to throw him off the claim。
They've seen how he's treated you; and haven't much love for him。'
'You mustn't do that。 You mustn't hurt him。'
'What then? Let him come right in here and take you away before my
eyes?'
'No…o;' she half whispered; stroking his hand softly。
'Then let me run it; and don't worry。 I'll see he doesn't get
hurt。 Precious lot he cared whether you got hurt or not! We won't go
back to Dawson。 I'll send word down for a couple of the boys to outfit
and pole a boat up the Yukon。 We'll cross the divide and raft down the
Indian River to meet them。 Then…'
'And then?'
Her head was on his shoulder。 Their voices sank to softer
cadences; each word a caress。 The Jesuit fidgeted nervously。
'And then?' she repeated。
'Why we'll pole up; and up; and up; and portage the White Horse
Rapids and the Box Canon。'
'Yes?'
'And the Sixty…Mile River; then the lakes; Chilcoot; Dyea; and
Salt Water。'
'But; dear; I can't pole a boat。'
'You little goose! I'll get Sitka Charley; he knows all the good
water and best camps; and he is the best traveler I ever met; if he is
an Indian。 All you'll have to do; is to sit in the middle of the boat;
and sing songs; and play Cleopatra; and fight… no; we're in luck;
too early for mosquitoes。'
'And then; O my Antony?'
'And then a steamer; San Francisco; and the world! Never to come
back to this cursed hole again。 Think of it! The world; and ours to
choose from! I'll sell out。 Why; we're rich! The Waldworth Syndicate
will give me half a million for what's left in the ground; and I've
got twice as much in the dumps and with the P。 C。 Company。 We'll go to
the Fair in Paris in 1900。 We'll go to Jerusalem; if you say so。 We'll
buy an Italian palace; and you can play Cleopatra to your heart's
content。 No; you shall be Lucretia; Acte; or anybody your little heart
sees fit to become。 But you mustn't; you really mustn't…'
'The wife of Caesar shall be above reproach。'
'Of course; but…'
'But I won't be your wife; will I; dear?'
'I didn't mean that。'
'But you'll love me just as much; and never even think… oh! I know
you'll be like other men; you'll grow tired; and… and…'
'How can you? I…'
'Promise me。'
'Yes; yes; I do promise。'
'You say it so easily; dear; but how do you know?… or I know? I have
so little to give; yet it is so much; and all I have。 O; Clyde!
promise me you won't?'
'There; there! You musn't begin to doubt already。 Till death do us
part; you know。'
'Think! I once said that to… to him; and now?'
'And now; little sweetheart; you're not to bother about such
things any more。 Of course; I never; never will; and…'
And for the first time; lips trembled against lips。 Father Roubeau
had been watching the main trail through the window; but could stand
the strain no longer。 He cleared his throat and turned around。
'Your turn now; Father!' Wharton's face was flushed with the fire of
his first embrace。 There was an exultant ring to his voice as he
abdicated in the other's favor。 He had no doubt as to the result。
Neither had Grace; for a smile played about her mouth as she faced the
priest。
'My child;' he began; 'my heart bleeds for you。 It is a pretty
dream; but it cannot be。'
'And why; Father? I have said yes。'
'You knew not what you d