"Good lor, gal! wha you doin' down da? You know Mass' Holt an' Mass'
Stebbins want dar coffee? Why ain't you done fotch de water?"
I faced round on hearing the voice. The tone and patois had already
admonished me that the speaker was neither white nor Indian, but of that
third typical race that mingles in the social life of the transatlantic
world--an African. The harsh accentuation had prepared me for the
appearance of a man and a negro; but, on turning, I perceived that I was
mistaken--both as to the sex and colour. In the speaker I beheld a
_mulatto_--a yellow woman of large size--gross, corpulent, and greasy.
Her dress was a light-coloured muslin print--negligently open at the
breast, and garnished with gaudy ribbons, from which freely protruded
the mountainous masses of her bosom. On her head was a _toque_ of
checked "bandana," folded over the black corkscrew ringlets, that scarce
reached so low as her ears; while ungartered stockings upon her ankles,
and slipshod shoes upon her feet, completed the _tout ensemble_ of her
costume. Notwithstanding the _neglige_ visible in her apparel, there
were signs of conceit as to personal appearance. The fashion and
trimmings were not in keeping with that of her tabooed race; and in the
set of the _toque_ there was a certain air of coquetry. The features,
small and regular, might have once passed for handsome; but they were
now nearly eliminated by her obese condition, which produced a
disproportionate rotundity of face. The eyes, moreover, had lost all
loveliness, if ever they had been endowed with such an expression.
Their glance, in its brightest day, could have been only animal. It was
still sufficiently sensual; but sensuality of a sullen and leering
character. The voice of this woman had already produced an unpleasant
effect upon me; so, too, the words spoken. The sight of her, as she
stood "akimbo," her hands resting upon her enormous haunches, only
strengthened the sinister impression, which was still further confirmed
by my observing that it had caused a similar effect elsewhere--upon
Lilian! Even over that radiant countenance I could see that a cloud had
stolen, and continued to shadow it!
"Say, gal! wha you doin' dar, anyhow? You fill dat pail double-quick,
or, golly, you catch it!" A threat! Lilian listens to it, and obeys!
"I am coming, Aunt Lucy!" replied the girl, in a trembling voice, at the
same time hastening to fill the water-can.
I was in hopes that this conciliatory answer would send the mulatta back
into the corral. To my chagrin, it produced a result directly the
reverse; for, on hearing it, the woman came waddling down in rapid
strides towards the river. She made direct for the spot where Lilian
was filling the can; and by her quick, nervous gestures, and the lurid
light flashing in her half-buried eyes, I could perceive that some
hideous passion was stirring within her. Lilian had already perceived
that she was approaching, and stood waiting for her--evidently in awe!
When within a few paces of the girl, the fat fury opened speech upon
her--and in a tone as vindictive as the sound of her voice was harsh and
grating.
"Wha for, gal, you call me _Aunt_ Lucy? Wha for you say dat? Dam! you
call me so 'gain, I jab you eyes out. Sure I live, I gouge you!"
The monster, as she spoke, stretched out her hand, bending the thumb
with a significant gesture.
She continued in the same spiteful tone:--"I tear you' har you so
conceit' 'bout--you' golding har, folks call. Piff! you' har da colour
ob yella squash. I pull um out o' you' head in fistful, you call me
_Aunt_ Lucy 'gain."
"I did not know it would offend you," replied the young girl, in a meek
voice. "Do not the others call you by that name?" she inquired
hesitatingly. "Mr Stebbins does so?"
"Nebba you mind what Mass' Stabbins he do; da's my affair. You hab a
care _you_ no call me so. Da's my affair, too. Jes you say _Aunt_ Lucy
'gain, I soon spoil you' beauty, buckra gal."
"I shall not do so again, Lucy," timidly rejoined the young girl.
"_Miss_ Lucy, you please. Don't you tink you still in Tennessee! You'
know better bye 'n bye. Yella woman out heer good as white--marry white
man all same--all same 'mong da Mormons--yah, yah, yah!"
A leer towards Lilian accompanied this laughter, rendering its hideous
significance more palpably expressive. So provoked was I by the brutal
behaviour of the yellow wench, I could scarcely restrain myself from
rushing up, and kicking her over the bank upon which she was standing.
Nothing but the stern necessity of preserving my incognito hindered me
from treating her as she deserved; and, even then, it cost me an effort
to keep my place. As I continued to watch them. I could see that the
young girl cowered beneath the threats of this bold bawdril, who had in
some way gained an ascendancy over her--perhaps appointed by Stebbins to
act in the double capacity of spy and guardian? Notwithstanding the
horrid imaginings to which the woman's presence had given rise, I
succeeded in smothering my wrath, and remaining silent. My good star
was guiding me; and soon after I was rewarded for the act of prudence.
"Say, gal!" continued the mulatta, still addressing herself to Lilian,
"wha for you sittin' down dar, gazin' into da water? S'pose you tink
you see him shadda dar? Yah, yah, yah!"
"Whose shadow?" innocently inquired the girl. I trembled while
listening for the reply. "O Lordy! you berry innocent gal, make 'pear!
S'pose I no see you write him name in dat ere book you got? S'pose I no
see you make him letter in de sand, wha we camp on Akansaw? You scratch
am name ebberywha; you got um on de big box inside Mass' Stebbins's
waggon. Ha! you better no let Mass' Stebbins see him name dar!"
I would at that instant have given my horse for a glance at either box
or book. But in another moment the necessity was gone; and the
revelation, though made by polluted lips, was not the less welcome to my
ears. What cared I whether the oracle was profane, so long as its
response echoed my most earnest desires?
"S'pose nobody read but youseff?" continued the mulatta, in the same
jeering tone. "S'pose nobody know what E.W. stand for? yah, yah!
S'pose dat ere don't mean Edwa'd Wa'ffeld? eh missy yella bar--dat him
name?" The young girl made no reply; but the crimson disc became widely
suffused over her cheek. With a secret joy I beheld its blushing
extension. "Yah, yah, yah!" continued her tormentor, "you may see um
shadda in da water--dat all you ebba see ob Edwa'd Wa'ffeld. Whoebbar
dat ere coon may be, you nebbar set you' eyes on him 'gain--nebba!" A
dark shade quickly overcast the crimson, betokening that the words gave
pain. My pleasure was in like proportion, but inversely. "You fool,
missy' golding har? you' better gone 'long wi' de young dragoon offica
who want take you--dat am, if you must had man all to youseff. Yah,
yah, yah! Nebba mind, gal! you get husban' yet. Mass' Stebbins he find
you husban'--he got one for you a'ready--waitin' dar in de Mormon city;
you soon see! Husban' got fifty odder wife! Yah, yah, yah!"
Words appeared upon the lips of Lilian--low murmured and but half
uttered. I could not make out what they were; but they appeared not to
be a reply to the speeches that had been addressed to her. Rather were
they the involuntary accompaniment to an expression of peculiar anguish,
that at that moment revealed itself on her features. The mulatta did
not seem either to expect, or care for an answer: for on giving
utterance to the fiendish insinuation, she turned upon her slippered
heels, and hobbled back towards the camp. I held my face averted as she
was passing near where I stood. I feared that she might be attracted to
stop and examine me; and I had a motive for wishing her to keep on. Her
curiosity, however, did not appear to be very excitable. Such as it
was, it evolved itself in a comic fashion--as I could tell by the coarse
"Yah, yah, yah!" that broke from her as she passed me. I could perceive
by the receding of the sound, that she had gone on without stopping.
Lilian followed at a distance of about ten paces. Her body was bent to
one side by the weight of the water-can; while her long golden-hair,
falling in confusion over the straining arm, almost swept the sward at
her feet. The toilsome attitude only displayed in greater perfection
the splendid development of that feminine form--which death alone could
now hinder me from calling my own.
I had already planned my course of action. I only waited for an
opportunity to carry it out. No longer desired I to remain unrecognised
by her. The barrier that had hitherto restrained me from giving sign or
word--and that would still have continued to do so--had now been
removed, happily as unexpectedly. In my heart, now filled and thrilling
with joy, there was no motive for further concealment; and I resolved at
once to declare myself. Not openly, however; not by speech, nor yet by
gesture. Either might provoke an exclamation; and draw upon us prying
eyes that were observing at no great distance. As stated, I had already
shaped out my course; and, for a minute or more, had been waiting for
the very opportunity that now offered.
During the conversation above detailed, I had not been an inactive
listener. I had taken from my pocket a scrap of paper, and pencilled
upon it three simple words. I knew the paper on which I was writing: it
was the half-leaf of a letter well-remembered. The letter itself was
not there: it was within the folds of my pocket-book; but there was
writing on the fly-leaf, and on both faces of it. On one side were
those cherished verses, whose sweet simple strain, still vibrating upon
the chords of my heart, I cannot help repeating:
"I think of thee, when Morning springs
From sleep, with plumage bathed in dew,
And like a young bird lifts her wings
Of gladness on the welkin blue.
And when at Noon the breath of love
O'er flower and stream is wandering free,
And sent in music from the grove,
I think of thee--I think of thee!
"I think of thee, when soft and wide
The Evening spreads her robe of light;
And, like a young and timid bride,
Sits blushing in the arms of night.
And when the moon's sweet crescent springs
In light o'er heaven's deep waveless sea;
And stars are forth like blessed things,
I think of thee--I think of thee!"
"O sir! it is very, very true! I do think of you; and I am sure I shall
do so as long as I live.
"Lilian Holt."
On the reverse side of the page I had penned, or rather pencilled, a
response. Not then, but in an idle hour by the way: with the
presentiment, that it might some time reach the hands of her for whom it
was intended. In those hands I was now determined to place it--leaving
the issue to the cipher itself. The answer ran thus:
To Lilian.
"As music sweet, thy gentle lay
Hath found an echo in my heart;
At morn, at eve, by night, by day,
'Tis never from my thoughts apart:
I hear the strain in every breeze
That blows o'er flower, and leaf, and tree;
Low murmuring, the birds and bees
All seem to sing--I think of thee!
"Perhaps, of me no more a thought
Lingers within thy bosom blest:
For time and absence both are fraught
With danger to the lover's rest?
O Lilian! if thy gentlest breath
Should whisper that sad truth to me,
My heart would soon be cold in death--
Though dying, still 'twould think of thee!"
"Edward Warfield, _The Indian Hunter_."
The words at the moment added were those appended to my own name--which
I had introduced to aid in the recognition. However inappropriate might
be the scheme for making myself known, I had no time to conceive any
other. The interruption caused by the mulatta had hindered me from a
verbal declaration, which otherwise I might have made; and there was no
longer an opportunity for the periphrasis of speech. Even a word might
betray me. Under this apprehension, I resolved to remain silent; and
watch for the occasion when I might effect the secret conveyance of the
paper.
As the young girl drew near, I stepped towards her--pointing to my lips,
and making sign that I wished to drink. The action did not alarm her.
On the contrary, she stopped; and, smiling kindly on the thirsty savage,
offered the can--raising it up before her. I took the vessel in my
hands, holding the little billet conspicuous between my stained fingers.
Conspicuous only to her: for from all other eyes the can concealed it--
even from those of the bizarre _duenna_, who had faced round and was
still standing near. Not a word escaped me, as I pretended to drink. I
only nodded towards the paper as I raised the vessel to my lips.
Ah! that weird instinct of a woman's heart--a woman who loves! How
pleasant to watch its subtle play, when we know that it is exerted in
our favour! I saw not the action, nor yet the emotion that may have
been depicted on that radiant face. My eyes were averted. I dared not
trust them to watch the effect. I only knew that the can was taken from
my hands--the paper along with it; and, like a dream, the fair
water-carrier passed from before me--leaving me alone upon the spot! My
eyes followed the receding form, now side by side with that of the
chiding guardian. Together they entered the corral--Lilian upon the
nearer side; but, as the maiden's face disappeared behind the sombre
shadow of the waggons, a glance given back through those shining tresses
convinced me that my scheme had succeeded!