brown of calaveras-第1节

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BROWN　OF　CALAVERAS





A　subdued　tone　of　conversation；　and　the　absence　of　cigar　smoke　and

boot　heels　at　the　windows　of　the　Wingdam　stagecoach；　made　it

evident　that　one　of　the　inside　passengers　was　a　woman。　　A

disposition　on　the　part　of　loungers　at　the　stations　to　congregate

before　the　window；　and　some　concern　in　regard　to　the　appearance　of

coats；　hats；　and　collars；　further　indicated　that　she　was　lovely。

All　of　which　Mr。　Jack　Hamlin；　on　the　box　seat；　noted　with　the　smile

of　cynical　philosophy。　　Not　that　he　depreciated　the　sex；　but　that

he　recognized　therein　a　deceitful　element；　the　pursuit　of　which

sometimes　drew　mankind　away　from　the　equally　uncertain

blandishments　of　pokerof　which　it　may　be　remarked　that　Mr。　Hamlin

was　a　professional　exponent。



So　that　when　he　placed　his　narrow　boot　on　the　wheel　and　leaped

down；　he　did　not　even　glance　at　the　window　from　which　a　green　veil

was　fluttering；　but　lounged　up　and　down　with　that　listless　and

grave　indifference　of　his　class；　which　was；　perhaps；　the　next　thing

to　good　breeding。　　With　his　closely　buttoned　figure　and　self…

contained　air　he　was　a　marked　contrast　to　the　other　passengers；

with　their　feverish　restlessness　and　boisterous　emotion；　and　even

Bill　Masters；　a　graduate　of　Harvard；　with　his　slovenly　dress；　his

overflowing　vitality；　his　intense　appreciation　of　lawlessness　and

barbarism；　and　his　mouth　filled　with　crackers　and　cheese；　I　fear

cut　but　an　unromantic　figure　beside　this　lonely　calculator　of

chances；　with　his　pale　Greek　face　and　Homeric　gravity。



The　driver　called　〃All　aboard！〃　and　Mr。　Hamlin　returned　to　the

coach。　　His　foot　was　upon　the　wheel；　and　his　face　raised　to　the

level　of　the　open　window；　when；　at　the　same　moment；　what　appeared

to　him　to　be　the　finest　eyes　in　the　world　suddenly　met　his。　　He

quietly　dropped　down　again；　addressed　a　few　words　to　one　of　the

inside　passengers；　effected　an　exchange　of　seats；　and　as　quietly

took　his　place　inside。　　Mr。　Hamlin　never　allowed　his　philosophy　to

interfere　with　decisive　and　prompt　action。



I　fear　that　this　irruption　of　Jack　cast　some　restraint　upon　the

other　passengersparticularly　those　who　were　making　themselves

most　agreeable　to　the　lady。　　One　of　them　leaned　forward；　and

apparently　conveyed　to　her　information　regarding　Mr。　Hamlin's

profession　in　a　single　epithet。　　Whether　Mr。　Hamlin　heard　it；　or

whether　he　recognized　in　the　informant　a　distinguished　jurist　from

whom；　but　a　few　evenings　before；　he　had　won　several　thousand

dollars；　I　cannot　say。　　His　colorless　face　betrayed　no　sign；　his

black　eyes；　quietly　observant；　glanced　indifferently　past　the　legal

gentleman；　and　rested　on　the　much　more　pleasing　features　of　his

neighbor。　　An　Indian　stoicismsaid　to　be　an　inheritance　from　his

maternal　ancestorstood　him　in　good　service；　until　the　rolling

wheels　rattled　upon　the　river　gravel　at　Scott's　Ferry；　and　the

stage　drew　up　at　the　International　Hotel　for　dinner。　　The　legal

gentleman　and　a　member　of　Congress　leaped　out；　and　stood　ready　to

assist　the　descending　goddess；　while　Colonel　Starbottle；　of

Siskiyou；　took　charge　of　her　parasol　and　shawl。　　In　this

multiplicity　of　attention　there　was　a　momentary　confusion　and

delay。　　Jack　Hamlin　quietly　opened　the　OPPOSITE　door　of　the　coach；

took　the　lady's　handwith　that　decision　and　positiveness　which　a

hesitating　and　undecided　sex　know　how　to　admireand　in　an　instant

had　dexterously　and　gracefully　swung　her　to　the　ground；　and　again

lifted　her　to　the　platform。　　An　audible　chuckle　on　the　box；　I　fear；

came　from　that　other　cynic；　〃Yuba　Bill；〃　the　driver。　　〃Look

keerfully　arter　that　baggage；　Kernel；〃　said　the　expressman；　with

affected　concern；　as　he　looked　after　Colonel　Starbottle；　gloomily

bringing　up　the　rear　of　the　triumphant　procession　to　the　waiting…

room。



Mr。　Hamlin　did　not　stay　for　dinner。　　His　horse　was　already　saddled；

and　awaiting　him。　　He　dashed　over　the　ford；　up　the　gravelly　hill；

and　out　into　the　dusty　perspective　of　the　Wingdam　road；　like　one

leaving　pleasant　fancy　behind　him。　　The　inmates　of　dusty　cabins　by

the　roadside　shaded　their　eyes　with　their　hands　and　looked　after

him；　recognizing　the　man　by　his　horse；　and　speculating　what　〃was　up

with　Comanche　Jack。〃　　Yet　much　of　this　interest　centered　in　the

horse；　in　a　community　where　the　time　made　by　〃French　Pete's〃　mare

in　his　run　from　the　Sheriff　of　Calaveras　eclipsed　all　concern　in

the　ultimate　fate　of　that　worthy。



The　sweating　flanks　of　his　gray　at　length　recalled　him　to　himself。

He　checked　his　speed；　and；　turning　into　a　by…road；　sometimes　used

as　a　cutoff；　trotted　leisurely　along；　the　reins　hanging　listlessly

from　his　fingers。　　As　he　rode　on；　the　character　of　the　landscape

changed　and　became　more　pastoral。　　Openings　in　groves　of　pine　and

sycamore　disclosed　some　rude　attempts　at　cultivationa　flowering

vine　trailed　over　the　porch　of　one　cabin；　and　a　woman　rocked　her

cradled　babe　under　the　roses　of　another。　　A　little　farther　on　Mr。

Hamlin　came　upon　some　barelegged　children　wading　in　the　willowy

creek；　and　so　wrought　upon　them　with　a　badinage　peculiar　to　himself

that　they　were　emboldened　to　climb　up　his　horse's　legs　and　over　his

saddle；　until　he　was　fain　to　develop　an　exaggerated　ferocity　of

demeanor；　and　to　escape；　leaving　behind　some　kisses　and　coin。　　And

then；　advancing　deeper　into　the　woods；　where　all　signs　of

habitation　failed；　he　began　to　singuplifting　a　tenor　so

singularly　sweet；　and　shaded　by　a　pathos　so　subduing　and　tender；

that　I　wot　the　robins　and　linnets　stopped　to　listen。　　Mr。　Hamlin's

voice　was　not　cultivated；　the　subject　of　his　song　was　some

sentimental　lunacy　borrowed　from　the　Negro　minstrels；　but　there

thrilled　through　all　some　occult　quality　of　tone　and　expression

that　was　unspeakably　touching。　　Indeed；　it　was　a　wonderful　sight　to

see　this　sentimental　blackleg；　with　a　pack　of　cards　in　his　pocket

and　a　revolver　at　his　back；　sending　his　voice　before　him　through

the　dim　woods　with　a　plaint　about　his　〃Nelly's　grave〃　in　a　way　that

overflowed　the　eyes　of　the　listener。　　A　sparrow　hawk；　fresh　from

his　sixth　victim；　possibly　recognizing　in　Mr。　Hamlin　a　kindred

spirit；　stared　at　him　in　surprise；　and　was　fain　to　confess　the

superiority　of　man。　　With　a　superior　predatory　capacity；　HE

couldn't　sing。



But　Mr。　Hamlin　presently　found　himself　again　on　the　highroad；　and

at　his　former　pace。　　Ditches　and　banks　of　gravel；　denuded

hillsides；　stumps；　and　decayed　trunks　of　trees；　took　the　place　of

woodland　and　ravine；　and　indicated　his　approach　to　civilization。

Then　a　church　steeple　came　in　sight；　and　he　knew　that　he　had

reached　home。　　In　a　few　moments　he　was　clattering　down　the　single

narrow　street　that　lost　itself　in　a　chaotic　ruin　of　races；　ditches；

and　tailings　at　the　foot　of　the　hill；　and　dismounted　before　the

gilded　windows　of　the　〃Magnolia〃　saloon。　　Passing　through　the　long

barroom；　he　pushed　open　a　green…baize　door；　entered　a　dark　passage；

opened　another　door　with　a　passkey；　and　found　himself　in　a　dimly

lighted　room　whose　furniture；　though　elegant　and　costly　for　the

locality；　showed　signs　of　abuse。　　The　inlaid　center　table　was

overlaid　with　stained　disks　that　were　not　contemplated　in　the

original　design。　　The　embroidered　armchairs　were　discolored；　and

the　green　velvet　lounge；　on　which　Mr。　Hamlin　threw　himself；　was

soiled　at　the　foot　with　the　red　soil　of　Wingdam。



Mr。　Hamlin　did　not　sing　in　his　cage。　　He　lay　still；　looking　at　a

highly　colored　painting　above　him　representing　a　young　creature　of

opulent　charms。　　It　occurred　to　him　then；　for　the　first　time；　that

he　had　never　seen　exactly　that　kind　of　a　woman；　and　that　if　he

should；　he　would　not；　probably；　fall　in　love　with　her。　　Perhaps　he

was　thinking　of　another　style　of　beauty。　　But　just　then　someone

knocked　at　the　door。　　Without　rising；　he　pulled　a　cord　that

apparently　shot　back　a　bolt；　for　the　door　swung　open；　and　a　man

entered。



The　newcomer　was　broad…shouldered　and　robusta　vigor　not　borne　out

in　the　face；　which；　though　handsome；　was　singularly　weak；　and

disfigured　by　dissipation。　　He　appeared　to　be　also　under　the

influence　of　liquor；　for　he　started　on　seeing　Mr。　Hamlin；　and　said；

〃I　thought　Kate　was　here；〃　stammered；　and　seemed　confused　and

embarrassed。



Mr。　Hamlin　smiled　the　smile　which　he　had　before　worn　on　the　Wingdam

coach；　and　sat　up；　quite　refreshed　and　ready　for　business。



〃You　didn't　come　up　on　the　stage；〃　continued　the　newcomer；　〃did

you？〃



〃No；〃　replied　Hamlin；　〃I　left　it　at　Scott's　Ferry。　　It　isn't　due

for　half　an　hour　yet。　　But　how's　luck；　Brown？〃



Damn　bad；〃　said　Brown；　his　face　suddenly　assuming　an　expression　of

weak　despair；　〃I'm　cleaned　out　again；　Jack；〃　he　continued；　in　a

whining　tone　that　formed　a　pitiable　contrast　to　his　bulky　figure；

〃can't　you　help　me　with　a　hundred　till　tomorrow's　cleanup？　　You　see

I've　got　to　send　money　home　to　the　old　woman；　andyou've　won

twenty　times　that　amount　from　me。〃



The　conclusion