a convert of the mission-第4节
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occurred。
He was turning hurriedly away when his eyes fell upon the yellow
rose still lying in the debris where he had thrown itbut still
pure; fresh; and unfaded。 He picked it up again; with a singular
fancy that it was the girl herself; and carried it into the house。
As he placed it half shyly in a glass on his table a wonderful
thought occurred to him。 Was not the episode of last night a
special providence? Was not that young girl; wayward and
childlike; a mere neophyte in her idolatrous religion; as yet
unsteeped in sloth and ignorance; presented to him as a brand to be
snatched from the burning? Was not this the opportunity of
conversion he had longed forthis the chance of exercising his
gifts of exhortation that he had been hiding in the napkin of
solitude and seclusion? Nay; was not all this PREDESTINED? His
illness; his consequent exile to this land of false godsthis
contiguity to the Missionwas not all this part of a supremely
ordered plan for the girl's salvationand was HE not elected and
ordained for that service? Nay; more; was not the girl herself a
mere unconscious instrument in the hands of a higher power; was not
her voluntary attempt to accompany him in his devotional exercise a
vague stirring of that predestined force within her? Was not even
that wantonness and frivolity contrasted with her childishness
which he had at first misunderstoodthe stirrings of the flesh and
the spirit; and was he to abandon her in that struggle of good and
evil?
He lifted his bowed head; that had been resting on his arm before
the little flower on the tableas if it were a shrinewith a
flash of resolve in his blue eyes。 The wrinkled Concepcion coming
to her duties in the morning scarcely recognized her gloomily
abstracted master in this transfigured man。 He looked ten years
younger。
She met his greeting; and the few direct inquiries that his new
resolve enabled him to make more freely; with some information
which a later talk with the shopkeeper; who had a fuller English
vocabulary; confirmed in detail。
〃YES! truly this was a niece of the Mission gardener; who lived
with her uncle in the ruined wing of the presidio。 She had taken
her first communion four years ago。 Ah; yes; she was a great
musician; and could play on the organ。 And the guitar; ah; yesof
a certainty。 She was gay; and flirted with the caballeros; young
and old; but she cared not for any。〃
Whatever satisfaction this latter statement gave Masterton; he
believed it was because the absence of any disturbing worldly
affection would make her an easier convert。
But how continue this chance acquaintance and effect her
conversion? For the first time Masterton realized the value of
expediency; while his whole nature impelled him to seek her society
frankly and publicly and exhort her openly; he knew that this was
impossible; still more; he remembered her unmistakable fright at
his first expression of faith; he must 〃be wise as the serpent and
harmless as the dove。〃 He must work upon her soul alone; and
secretly。 He; who would have shrunk from any clandestine
association with a girl from mere human affection; saw no wrong in
a covert intimacy for the purpose of religious salvation。 Ignorant
as he was of the ways of the world; and inexperienced in the usages
of society; he began to plan methods of secretly meeting her with
all the intrigue of a gallant。 The perspicacity as well as the
intuition of a true lover had descended upon him in this effort of
mere spiritual conquest。
Armed with his information and a few Spanish words; he took the
yellow Concepcion aside and gravely suborned her to carry a note to
be delivered secretly to Miss Ramirez。 To his great relief and
some surprise the old woman grinned with intelligence; and her
withered hand closed with a certain familiar dexterity over the
epistle and the accompanying gratuity。 To a man less naively one…
ideaed it might have awakened some suspicion; but to the more
sanguine hopefulness of Masterton it only suggested the fancy that
Concepcion herself might prove to be open to conversion; and that
he should in due season attempt HER salvation also。 But that would
be later。 For Concepcion was always with him and accessible; the
girl was not。
The note; which had cost him some labor of composition; simple and
almost businesslike as was the result; ran as follows:
〃I wish to see you upon some matter of grave concern to yourself。
Will you oblige me by coming again to the wall of the Mission
tonight at early candlelight? It would avert worldly suspicion if
you brought also your guitar。〃
The afternoon dragged slowly on; Concepcion returned; she had; with
great difficulty; managed to see the senorita; but not alone; she
had; however; slipped the note into her hand; not daring to wait
for an answer。
In his first hopefulness Masterton did not doubt what the answer
would be; but as evening approached he grew concerned as to the
girl's opportunities of coming; and regretted that he had not given
her a choice of time。
Before his evening meal was finished he began to fear for her
willingness; and doubt the potency of his note。 He was accustomed
to exhort ORALLYperhaps he ought to have waited for the chance of
SPEAKING to her directly without writing。
When the moon rose he was already in the garden。 Lingering at
first in the shadow of an olive tree; he waited until the moonbeams
fell on the wall and its crests of foliage。 But nothing moved
among that ebony tracery; his ear was strained for the familiar
tinkle of the guitarall was silent。 As the moon rose higher he
at last boldly walked to the wall; and listened for any movement on
the other side of it。 But nothing stirred。 She was evidently NOT
cominghis note had failed。
He was turning away sadly; but as he faced his home again he heard
a light laugh beside him。 He stopped。 A black shadow stepped out
from beneath his own almond tree。 He started when; with a gesture
that seemed familiar to him; the upper part of the shadow seemed to
fall away with a long black mantilla and the face of the young girl
was revealed。
He could see now that she was clad in black lace from head to foot。
She looked taller; older; and he fancied even prettier than before。
A sudden doubt of his ability to impress her; a swift realization
of all the difficulties of the attempt; and; for the first time
perhaps; a dim perception of the incongruity of the situation came
over him。
〃I was looking for you on the wall;〃 he stammered。
〃MADRE DE DIOS!〃 she retorted; with a laugh and her old audacity;
〃you would that I shall ALWAYS hang there; and drop upon you like a
pear when you shake the tree? No!〃
〃You haven't brought your guitar;〃 he continued; still more
awkwardly; as he noticed that she held only a long black fan in her
hand。
〃For why? You would that I PLAY it; and when my uncle say 'Where
go Pepita? She is loss;' someone shall say; 'Oh! I have hear her
tink…a…tink in the garden of the Americano; who lif alone。' And
thenit ess finish!〃
Masterton began to feel exceedingly uncomfortable。 There was
something in this situation that he had not dreamed of。 But with
the persistency of an awkward man he went on。
〃But you played on the wall the other night; and tried to accompany
me。〃
〃But that was lass night and on the wall。 I had not speak to you;
you had not speak to me。 You had not sent me the leetle note by
your peon。〃 She stopped; and suddenly opening her fan before her
face; so that only her mischievous eyes were visible; added: 〃You
had not asked me then to come to hear you make lof to me; Don
Esteban。 That is the difference。〃
The circuit preacher felt the blood rush to his face。 Anger;
shame; mortification; remorse; and fear alternately strove with
him; but above all and through all he was conscious of a sharp;
exquisite pleasurethat frightened him still more。 Yet he managed
to exclaim:
〃No! no! You cannot think me capable of such a cowardly trick?〃
The girl started; more at the unmistakable sincerity of his
utterance than at the words; whose full meaning she may have only
imperfectly caught。
〃A treek? A treek?〃 she slowly and wonderingly repeated。 Then
suddenly; as if comprehending him; she turned her round black eyes
full upon him and dropped her fan from her face。
〃And WHAT for you ask me to come here then?〃
〃I wanted to talk with you;〃 he began; 〃on far more serious
matters。 I wished to〃 but he stopped。 He could not address this
quaint child…woman staring at him in black…eyed wonder; in either
the measured or the impetuous terms with which he would have
exhorted a maturer responsible being。 He made a step toward her;
she drew back; striking at his extended hand half impatiently; half
mischievously with her fan。
He flush