9252
EFFECT [244] on the people of a mining camp of one of those fabulously
rich “strikes” like Gray Recks mine proved to be, may be imagined
but cannot be described in words. Shopkeeper, citizen and miner alike,
go wild with enthusiasm over so important a discovery. Congratulations
were showered upon Colonel Bonifield and Vance from every quarter. Every
one in Gold Bluff felt it his privilege to call at Colonel Bonifield’s
home and pay his respects to one who had lived so long in their midst,
and who had so persistently and so patiently maintained unbounded
confidence in a proposition that was looked upon by others as a
money-losing venture.
Independent of the fortune left him by his father, Vance was now a
millionaire. In his prosperity he did not forget his old friends. He
called on the sheriff and again offered himself as bondsman for Steve
Gibbons. The bond was accepted, and a half hour later, Gibbons was
released. Hank Casey surrendered himself, and was also immediately
bailed out of custody.
One evening the stage coach brought to Gold Bluff Homer Winthrop and
his young bride, nee Virgie Bonifield. It was a great surprise to the
Bonifield household.
[245] “And this accounts,” said Vance to Homer, after he had
congratulated him, “this accounts for Marcus Donald hastening away
from Gold Bluff.”
“Yes,” said Homer, “I could not think of having the ceremony take
place without my old friend and associate, Marcus Donald, being
present. We have traveled together so long, in adversity as well as in
prosperity, that we are quite inseparable.”
“He is a great character,” replied Vance, “his disinterested
assistance and help I have recently seen demonstrated in a marked
degree.”
“He is one of the ‘salt of the earth,’.rdquo; replied Winthrop,
enthusiastically, “he is not only a sunny day friend, but one in
the hour of need—indeed, he is a man among men. By the way,” he
continued, “I want to congratulate you with all my heart on the great
Gray Rocks strike.”
“Thank you,” replied Vance, “the prosperity could never have come
at a more opportune time. My finances was reduced to the last dollar
when Colonel Bonifield broke the news to me.”
“I received your letter, written some ten days ago,” said
Winthrop, “and have sold those twenty-five lots your New York friends
purchased.”
“Thank God for that!” ejaculated Vance.
“Yes, I sold them for $800 apiece, or $20,000. As they only paid
$2,500 for them, I hardly think they can complain at the profits. Oh,
you have no idea what a city Waterville has become. The great waterpower
has been effectually harnessed, the streets are paved; electric car
lines, planing mills, and scores of other manufacturing concerns are
in full operation. Our population is now [246] numbered by thousands,
instead of hundreds, while busy activity and prosperity are apparent on
every hand.”
“You quite astonish me, old fellow,” replied Vance, “indeed you
do; but I needed no greater proof of Waterville’s prosperity than your
report of the sale of lots belonging to my New York friends. Once, old
fellow, I gave you my promise to wait five years before passing judgment
on your enterprise. Hardly half that time has elapsed, yet it gives
me pleasure to assure you that I am already better satisfied with
Waterville than I ever dared hope for.”
“Thank you,” said Homer, “your ‘Two Honorable Exceptions’
article in the New York Banner was indeed prophetic.”
“Yes,” said Vance, “while the prophecies of Col. Alexander, B.
Webster Legal, Gen. Ira House, and other members of your Waterville Town
Company, have been more than realized.”
“My associates,” said Homer, “in the great work of building up
Waterville, have at last met with a compensation which I cannot but feel
is a just one. Taking it all and all, they are a grand lot of fellows,
each one a study within himself; nevertheless, collectively a phalanx of
strength.”
“By the way,” he continued, “it was my noble little wife, Virgie,
that started the boom last spring. She learned in some mysterious way
that a private school fund had been created for her special benefit, and
in order to return the money, purchased the first lots that we had
sold for months and months, and from that day the boom started, until
now—well, you’ll have to see the place to realize the wonderful
changes and improvements.”
[247] “Hers,” said Vance, “is certainty a sweet and noble
character.”
“Yes, indeed,” replied Winthrop, laughingly, “I still think she is
the most practical member of the Bonifield family.”
“Indeed,” said Vance, “I remember the allusion, and I beg to
assure you that my opinion remains unchanged in regard to Louise.”
“I notice,” said Winthrop, “that our old acquaintance, J. Arthur
Boast, has had quite a rise in the world—at the head of the Peacock
mine, I understand.”
“Yes,” replied Vance, while a sorrowful expression swept over his
face, “I fear his rise preceeds a mighty fall. Gibbons and Casey have
been arrested for the Grim murder, but have given bonds, and are waiting
for their attorney, B. Webster Legal, and to use one of Steve Gibbons’
expressions, ‘Things are liable to be sizzlin’ hot for Boast before
long. ‘”
“Why,” interrupted Winthrop, “you cannot mean—”
“Yes,” continued Vance, “I do mean that J. Arthur Boast murdered
Rufus Grim. I have the evidence. Hank Casey saw the act.”
“Why, you astonish me!”
“Casey,” continued Vance, “was at first afraid to report the
matter, nor did he until he went to Waterville. You were away at the
time, and he confided to Mr. Donald. His own and Steve Gibbons’ long
years of warfare with Grim over the Peacock, he was afraid, would cause
people to suspect them of the crime. He divined rightly. There is a
great prejudice against both of them.”
“I never was more surprised in my life!” said Winthrop, [248]
“and while I never liked the fellow, yet I had no idea he would commit
murder.”
The next day a warrant was issued for the arrest of J. Arthur Boast,
charging him with the murder of Rufus Grim. A most diligent search was
made, but the officer was unable to find him. His wife was in tears and
prostrated with grief, declaring she had no idea of his whereabouts.
It was the morning before Thanksgiving that Vance received a certain
letter. It was from Arthur Boast, and read as follows:
At Home.
Dear Sir:
Why I write to you above all others, is more than I can tell. An
impulse, actuated by some wandering spirit from the regions of darkness
and the damned, forces me to it. The things I want to do, I am unable to
accomplish. The acts I loathe and abhor, I am made a cat’s-paw of to
perform by some unknown impelling force.
It may be that some men can shape their own destiny—mine has been
shaped for me.
I have never seen the time I did not fear you, and cannot remember
the time I did not hate and despise you. I sought your friendship for
protection. When I needed your support, you turned against me.
Rufus Grim was my evil genius in this life, and he is more unbearable
dead than living. Every night since I murdered him—yes, it was I who
did the deed—he has visited me in my dreams All night long he walks up
and down my bed-room—back and forth—and curses me. Sometimes I pull
the covers well over my head, and try to sleep, but he pulls them off
and rubs his cold, clammy hands threateningly over my face. He has found
out also that I robbed the stage coach and bribed the sheriff.
I am tired of it all. I have not slept for ten nights. My brain [249]
is on fire. You want vengeance, but I intend to cheat you—yes? I will
cheat you—and in this way I find my only consolation.
An hour ago my attorney came to my hiding-place, and told me the higher
courts had reversed the decision. When this is known all Gold Bluff will
turn against me. Even now I can hear them hissing the words. Scoundrel!
scoundrel! murderer! murderer! in tantalizing scorn.
My ambition has always been to be wealthy. Now I am so poor that if I
continued to live and was not hunted down and sent to prison, I would
not even have a crust of bread to eat.
Yes, Gibbons and Casey are now the owners of the Peacock mine—the
higher courts have so decided. With their money, they’ll join you in
persecuting me—but I’ll cheat them as well as you. Your longing for
revenge shall not be satisfied.
At the old prospect shaft on the Peacock, where I struck the fatal blow
that hurled Rufus Grim into eternity, you will find all that remains of
the persecuted, despised and hated.
J. Arthur Boast.
To Vance Gilder.
A search was at once made, and his lifeless body found near the old
prospect shaft.
9257
A bullet wound in his temple, and the weapon still clutched in his hand,
told of the maniac’s suicide.
The people of Gold Bluff were astonished at the rapidity with which
history was being made. The sheriff was missing, and his absence gave
color to Boast’s statement about the sheriff being an accomplice in
the stage robbery.
The undisputed owners of the Peacock mine, Casey and Gibbons, the
multi-millionaires, were entirely vindicated by Boast’s letter,
and not [250] a shadow of suspicion rested against them; indeed, the
citizens of Gold Bluff suddenly remembered that Mr. Henry Casey and
Stephen Gibbons, Esq., were most excellent gentlemen. It was astonishing
to find how many “friends” flocked around them to tender their
congratulations.
It was Thanksgiving night, and Vance, with the members of the Bonifield
household, was seated before the open grate, where a cheerful fire
burned brightly. [251] They had been talking it all over, and the
Colonel, in a subdued but satisfied way, thanked God that he had been
permitted to live long enough to see a fulfillment of his life’s
dream.
8258
Both Louise and Virgie were animated and happy, and Homer Winthrop had
been dilating upon Waterville’s wonderful prosperity.
Presently the door opened, and Aunt Sally came in. “Good evenin’,
Mr. Gilder,” said she, in her rich Southern accent, “I ‘low this
is the happiest day of our lives.”
“Yes, indeed,” replied Vance, “we owe many apologies to your
brother for our seeming lack of confidence in Gray Rocks.”
She looked at him quickly over her spectacles, and replied, “Lack of
confidence, Mr. Gilder? I’d like to know who lacked confidence in my
brother Benjamin’s mine! Fo’ myself, I have believed from the first
that Benjamin would strike it if I could only keep him workin’ away
long enough.”
Vance was non-plussed, and was about to reply, when the Colonel
interposed. “Yo’ see, suh,” said he, with a knowing twinkle in
his eye, “I have often obse’ved to yo’ that my sisteh is a most
ext’ao’dina’y person; yes, suh, most ext’ao’dina’y indeed.
She has been a powehful support to me, suh, in my effo’ts.”
This seemed to partially pacify Aunt Sally. Presently she said, “I
‘spect, Mr. Gilder, yo’ are thinkin’ ‘bout a convehsation we
had a few months ago in regard to sinkin’ the shaft. Of cou’se yo’
didn’t know how much strategy I had to resort to that I might keep
Benjamin from getting disheartened. Of cou’se I won’t allow nobody
to say anythin’ against my brother, but I ‘low he is the contrariest
man livin’, I do indeed, suh. Time and again I have been fo’ced to
pretend that I was opposin’ him, just to make him go on work in’ and
sinkin’ that shaft, but at last it is all over with, and I’ve much
to be thankful fo’ that I was spared so that I could keep on naggin’
at Benjamin and spurrin’ him up, until finally his effo’ts were
rewa’ded.” Soon after, she embraced Louise and Virgie tenderly, and
retired.
When she was gone, the Colonel looked up from the crackling fire, into
which he had been gazing long and earnestly, and said, “I presume,
Mr. Gilder, my sisteh is without question one of the greatest characters
that ever lived, I do indeed, suh. I’m discoverin’, even to this
day, new traits of superio’ity and strength in her. Indeed, suh, she
is no o’dina’y woman. Though bawn in the South, and possessin’ in
a high degree the very great refinement peculiar to our Southern ladies,
yet at the same time her diplomacy in accomplishin’ great results
equals the shrewdest Nawthe’n Yankee. Indeed, suh, she is a most
rema’kable character; yes, suh, most rema’kable.” [252] A little
later Homer and Virgie retired, pleading weariness. “Do you know,”
said Colonel Bonifield, looking up from the fire again, “since our
great discovery was made, I seem to want to do all my sleeping in the
mawnin’.”
“Papa,” said Louise, “is too busy thinking over and over again his
great good fortune to get sleepy; but my! how late he does sleep in the
morning!”
“He has justly earned,” said Vance, “the rest he claims.’
“Indeed he has,” replied Louise, approaching her father and pushing
gently back his long white locks, “you are my darling old papa,” she
continued in a caressing way, “and may sit up as late as you like, and
sleep until noon every day if it is your wish.”
“I’ll tell yo’, Mr. Gilder,” said the Colonel, rising and
standing before the fire, “this little girl of mine is bound to spoil
me; yes, suh; she always did humor me eveh since I can remembeh, and she
is worse now than eveh befo’ Well, well, you’ll have to excuse me
until I have another pipe of tobacco.” His elegant suit of black of
the latest pattern added to his dignified appearance, and made a strange
contrast, Vance thought, with the miner’s garb he had worn for so many
years. He pushed through the portieres that opened into the library,
and Louise and Vance were left alone, for the first time since the rich
discovery had been announced.
A doubt came into Vance’s mind whether he was glad of it or not.
Heretofore this noble girl whom he had loved so long and patiently
had been in a measure dependent upon him—now she was an heiress.
He fancied he detected a restraint in her conversation that was
embarrassing. His own unworthiness rose up before him, and he was
engulfed in the cowardice of a lover! What if she should refuse him?
Cross-cutting into a pinched-out vein would be nothing in comparison
with such a disappointment. Presently, at his request, she went to the
piano, and sang for him.
She sang [253] with far more feeling than ever before. Her heart
was filled with a maiden’s dearest happiness—a deep, reciprocal,
unspoken love of limitless depth. Yes, with the unerring divination of
a woman, she knew that Vance’s love was wholly hers. There was a love
song before her, and under its cover, she would declare her own without
restraint. She sang with the rapture of a mountain thrush, in notes so
rich, so innocent, so plaintively low, so delightfully thrilling.
Vance listened with bated breath. There are pleasures so keen as to
be painful. “I am so inferior to her,” he thought, with unselfish
humility, “but to live without her is impossible.” Finally she
ceased playing and turned toward him with the music of her soul radiant
upon her face. A momentary silence followed.
“Louise,” [254] said Vance, and there was a tremulous rhythm in his
voice, notwithstanding he tried to crush it into naturalness, “it
may be news to you, but I can no more help loving you than I can help
breathing.” He walked back and forth before the open grate. “Please
do not look away from me,” he went on, “as if I were so unworthy—I
know that well enough. I would rather love you without hope than
have the unselfish devotion of all the other women of the earth at my
feet.”
She had lifted her hands and covered her face. Her happiness was very
great. She fears he would see it, vet he must know it, else she would be
miserable.
“What I have said,” Vance went on, “may be nothing to you, but it
is either life or death to me. To-morrow I shall leave Gold Bluff for
ever unless you wish me to remain.” Vance stood before the open grate
still and motionless, and when she looked up, she saw his face was white
as marble. She rose from the piano with tear-stained cheeks, flushing
pink as La France roses with morning dew-drops upon them. She came
forward a few steps, and then paused. Her golden wealth of hair [255]
reflected the forelight, and made a halo about her girlish face and
form. Her full red lips were parted with the tender smile of youth,
purity and love. She was thinking, “I am certain of his love; I am
sure of mine for him, and I will give myself entirely, yes, wholly into
his keeping.” With one hand over her beating heart, she held the other
toward Vance. In a moment he was by her side, and raising her hand,
pressed it passionately to his lips. In the deliciousness of love’s
dream, he led her to a divan and seated himself beside her. His arms
stole about her, her head rested on her breast, and there a devout
lover’s affection was sealed with love’s first kiss.
A moment [256] later the portieres parted, and in the doorway stood the
Colonel. His long white hair fell back from his temples, and there was
a look of gladness upon his countenance. He lifted up his face toward
Heaven, and in tones that were scarcely audible, said: “Such tender
and sacred things of earth are sanctified in Heaven.”
Yes, again the Shuttle of Fate wove into the web of Destiny the better
attributes of a manly man and the ennobling love of a gentle woman.
0261
0263
End of Project Gutenberg’s My “Pardner” and I, by Willis George
Emerson