sally dows-第19节

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very　quiet　in　that　still　air。　　So　quiet　that　she　heard　two　distinct
reports；　following　each　other　quickly；　but　very　faint　and　far。
She　glanced　mechanically　towards　the　sea。　　Two　merchant…men　in
midstream　were　shaking　out　their　wings　for　a　long　flight；　a　pilot
boat　and　coasting　schooner　were　rounding　the　point；　but　there　was
no　smoke　from　their　decks。　　She　bent　over　her　work　again；　and　in
another　moment　had　forgotten　it。　　But　the　heat；　with　the　dazzling
reflection　from　the　cliff；　forced　her　to　suspend　her　gardening；　and
stroll　along　the　beach　to　the　extreme　limit　of　her　domain。　　Here
she　looked　after　the　cow　that　had　also　strayed　away　through　the
tangled　bush　for　coolness。　　The　goats；　impervious　to　temperature；
were　basking　in　inaccessible　fastnesses　on　the　cliff　itself　that
made　her　eyes　ache　to　climb。　　Over　an　hour　passed；　she　was
returning；　and　had　neared　her　house；　when　she　was　suddenly　startled
to　see　the　figure　of　a　man　between　her　and　the　cliff。　　He　was
engaged　in　brushing　his　dusty　clothes　with　a　handkerchief；　and
although　he　saw　her　coming；　and　even　moved　slowly　towards　her；
continued　his　occupation　with　a　half…impatient；　half…abstracted
air。　　Her　feminine　perception　was　struck　with　the　circumstance　that
he　was　in　deep　black；　with　scarcely　a　gleam　of　white　showing　even
at　his　throat；　and　that　he　wore　a　tall　black　hat。　　Without　knowing
anything　of　social　customs；　it　seemed　to　her　that　his　dress　was
inconsistent　with　his　appearance　there。

〃Good…morning；〃　he　said；　lifting　his　hat　with　a　preoccupied　air。
〃Do　you　live　here？〃

〃Yes；〃　she　said　wonderingly。

〃Anybody　else？〃

〃My　husband。〃

〃I　mean　any　other　people？　　Are　there　any　other　houses？〃　he　said
with　a　slight　impatience。

〃No。〃

He　looked　at　her　and　then　towards　the　sea。　　〃I　expect　some　friends
who　are　coming　for　me　in　a　boat。　　I　suppose　they　can　land　easily
here？〃

〃Didn't　you　yourself　land　here　just　now？〃　she　said　quickly。

He　half　hesitated；　and　then；　as　if　scorning　an　equivocation；　made　a
hasty　gesture　over　her　shoulder　and　said　bluntly；　〃No；　I　came　over
the　cliff。〃

〃Down　the　cliff？〃　she　repeated　incredulously。

〃Yes；〃　he　said；　glancing　at　his　clothes；　〃it　was　a　rough　scramble；
but　the　goats　showed　me　the　way。〃

〃And　you　were　up　on　the　bluff　all　the　time？〃　she　went　on　curiously。

〃Yes。　　You　seeI〃he　stopped　suddenly　at　what　seemed　to　be　the
beginning　of　a　prearranged　and　plausible　explanation；　as　if
impatient　of　its　weakness　or　hypocrisy；　and　said　briefly；　〃Yes；　I
was　there。〃

Like　most　women；　more　observant　of　his　face　and　figure；　she　did　not
miss　this　lack　of　explanation。　　He　was　a　very　good…looking　man　of
middle　age；　with　a　thin；　proud；　high…bred　face；　which　in　a　country
of　bearded　men　had　the　further　distinction　of　being　smoothly
shaven。　　She　had　never　seen　any　one　like　him　before。　　She　thought
he　looked　like　an　illustration　of　some　novel　she　had　read；　but　also
somewhat　melancholy；　worn；　and　tired。

〃Won't　you　come　in　and　rest　yourself？〃　she　said；　motioning　to　the
cabin。

〃Thank　you；〃　he　said；　still　half　absently。　　〃Perhaps　I'd　better。
It　may　be　some　time　yet　before　they　come。〃

She　led　the　way　to　the　cabin；　entered　the　living　rooma　plainly
furnished　little　apartment　between　the　bedroom　and　the　kitchen
pointed　to　a　large　bamboo　armchair；　and　placed　a　bottle　of　whiskey
and　some　water　on　the　table　before　him。　　He　thanked　her　again　very
gently；　poured　out　some　spirits　in　his　glass；　and　mixed　it　with
water。　　But　when　she　glanced　towards　him　again　he　had　apparently
risen　without　tasting　it；　and　going　to　the　door　was　standing　there
with　his　hand　in　the　breast　of　his　buttoned　frock　coat；　gazing
silently　towards　the　sea。　　There　was　something　vaguely　historical
in　his　attitudeor　what　she　thought　might　be　historicalas　of
somebody　of　great　importance　who　had　halted　on　the　eve　of　some
great　event　at　the　door　of　her　humble　cabin。

His　apparent　unconsciousness　of　her　and　of　his　surroundings；　his
preoccupation　with　something　far　beyond　her　ken；　far　from　piquing
her；　only　excited　her　interest　the　more。　　And　then　there　was　such
an　odd　sadness　in　his　eyes。

〃Are　you　anxious　for　your　folks'　coming？〃　she　said　at　last；
following　his　outlook。

〃Ioh　no！〃　he　returned；　quickly　recalling　himself；　〃they'll　be
sure　to　comesooner　or　later。　　No　fear　of　that；〃　he　added；　half
smilingly；　half　wearily。

Mrs。　Bunker　passed　into　the　kitchen；　where；　while　apparently
attending　to　her　household　duties；　she　could　still　observe　her
singular　guest。　　Left　alone；　he　seated　himself　mechanically　in　the
chair；　and　gazed　fixedly　at　the　fireplace。　　He　remained　a　long　time
so　quiet　and　unmoved；　in　spite　of　the　marked　ostentatious　clatter
Mrs。　Bunker　found　it　necessary　to　make　with　her　dishes；　that　an
odd　fancy　that　he　was　scarcely　a　human　visitant　began　to　take
possession　of　her。　　Yet　she　was　not　frightened。　　She　remembered
distinctly　afterwards　that；　far　from　having　any　concern　for
herself；　she　was　only　moved　by　a　strange　and　vague　admiration　of
him。

But　her　prolonged　scrutiny　was　not　without　effect。　　Suddenly　he
raised　his　dark　eyes；　and　she　felt　them　pierce　the　obscurity　of　her
kitchen　with　a　quick；　suspicious；　impatient　penetration；　which　as
they　met　hers　gave　way；　however；　to　a　look　that　she　thought　was
gently　reproachful。　　Then　he　rose；　stretched　himself　to　his　full
height；　and　approaching　the　kitchen　door　leaned　listlessly　against
the　door…post。

〃I　don't　suppose　you　are　ever　lonely　here？〃

〃No；　sir。〃

〃Of　course　not。　　You　have　yourself　and　husband。　　Nobody　interferes
with　you。　　You　are　contented　and　happy　together。〃

Mrs。　Bunker　did　not　say；　what　was　the　fact；　that　she　had　never
before　connected　the　sole　companionship　of　her　husband　with　her
happiness。　　Perhaps　it　had　never　occurred　to　her　until　that　moment
how　little　it　had　to　do　with　it。　　She　only　smiled　gratefully　at　the
change　in　her　guest's　abstraction。

〃Do　you　often　go　to　San　Francisco？〃　he　continued。

〃I　have　never　been　there　at　all。　　Some　day　I　expect　we　will　go
there　to　live。〃

〃I　wouldn't　advise　you　to；〃　he　said；　looking　at　her　gravely。　　〃I
don't　think　it　will　pay　you。　　You'll　never　be　happy　there　as　here。
You'll　never　have　the　independence　and　freedom　you　have　here。
You'll　never　be　your　own　mistress　again。　　But　how　does　it　happen
you　never　were　in　San　Francisco？〃　he　said　suddenly。

If　he　would　not　talk　of　himself；　here　at　least　was　a　chance　for
Mrs。　Bunker　to　say　something。　　She　related　how　her　family　had
emigrated　from　Kansas　across　the　plains　and　had　taken　up　a
〃location〃　at　Contra　Costa。　　How　she　didn't　care　for　it；　and　how
she　came　to　marry　the　seafaring　man　who　brought　her　hereall　with
great　simplicity　and　frankness　and　as　unreservedly　as　to　a　superior
beingalbeit　his　attention　wandered　at　times；　and　a　rare　but
melancholy　smile　that　he　had　apparently　evoked　to　meet　her
conversational　advances　became　fixed　occasionally。　　Even　his　dark
eyes；　which　had　obliged　Mrs。　Bunker　to　put　up　her　hair　and　button
her　collar；　rested　upon　her　without　seeing　her。

〃Then　your　husband's　name　is　Bunker？〃　he　said　when　she　paused　at
last。　　〃That's　one　of　those　Nantucket　Quaker　namessailors　and
whalers　for　generationsand　yours；　you　say；　was　MacEwan。　　Well；
Mrs。　Bunker；　YOUR　family　came　from　Kentucky　to　Kansas　only　lately；
though　I　suppose　your　father　calls　himself　a　Free…States　man。　　You
ought　to　know　something　of　farming　and　cattle；　for　your　ancestors
were　old　Scotch　Covenanters　who　emigrated　a　hundred　years　ago；　and
were　great　stock　raisers。〃

All　this　seemed　only　the　natural　omniscience　of　a　superior　being。
And　Mrs。　Bunker　perhaps　was　not　pained　to　learn　that　her　husband's
family　was　of　a　lower　degree　than　her　own。　　But　the　stranger's
knowledge　did　not　end　there。　　He　talked　of　her　husband's　business
he　explained　the　vast　fishing　resources　of　the　bay　and　coast。　　He
showed　her　how　the　large　colony　of　Italian　fishermen　were　inimical
to　the　interests　of　California　and　to　her　husbandparticularly　as
a　native　American　trader。　　He　told　her　of　the　volcanic　changes　of
the　bay　and　coast　line；　of　the　formation　of　the　rocky　ledge　on
which　she　lived。　　He　pointed　out　to　her　its　value　to　the　Government
for　defensive　purposes；　and　how　it　naturally　commanded　the　entrance
of　the　Golden　Gate　far　better　than　Fort　Point；　and　that　it　ought　to
be　in　its　hands。　　If　the　Federal　Government　did　not　buy　it　of　her
husband；　certainly　the　State　of　California　should。　　And　here　he
fell　into　an　abstraction　as　deep　and　as　gloomy　as　before。　　He
walked　to　the　window；　paced　the　floor　with　his　hand　in　his　breast；
went　to　the　door；　and　finally　stepped　out　of　the　cabin；　moving
along　the　ledge　of　rocks　to　the　shore；　where　he　stood　motionless。

Mrs。　Bunker　had　listened　to　him　with　parted　lips　and　eyes　of
eloquent　admiration。　　She　had　never　before　heard　anyone　talk　like
THATshe　had　not　believed　it　possible　that　any　one　could　have　such
knowledge。　　Perhaps　she　could　not　understand　all　he　said；　but　she
would　try　to　remember　it　after　he　had　gone。　　She　could　only　think
now　how　kind　it　was　of　him　that　in　all　this　mystery　of　his　coming；
and　in　the　singular　sadness　that　was　oppressing　him；　he　should　try
to　interest　her。　　And　thus　lo