flip-a california romance-第12章
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gazing into the night。 When he turned back again toward the fire
his face was as colorless as the dead man's on the hearth； the fire
of passion was gone from his beaten eyes； his step was hesitating
and slow。 He went up to the table。
〃I say； old man；〃 he said； with a strange smile and an odd；
premature suggestion of the infinite weariness of death in his
voice； 〃you wouldn't mind giving me this； would you？〃 and he took
up the picture of Flip。 The old man nodded repeatedly。 〃Thank
you；〃 said Lance。 He went to the door； paused a moment； and
returned。 〃Good…by； old man；〃 he said； holding out his hand。
Fairley took it with a childish smile。 〃He's dead；〃 said the old
man softly； holding Lance's hand； but pointing to the hearth。
〃Yes；〃 said Lance； with the faintest of smiles on the palest of
faces。 〃You feel sorry for any one that's dead； don't you？〃
Fairley nodded again。 Lance looked at him with eyes as remote as
his own； shook his head； and turned away。 When he reached the door
he laid his revolver carefully； and； indeed； somewhat ostentatiously；
upon a chair。 But when he stepped from the threshold he stopped a
moment in the light of the open door to examine the lock of a small
derringer which he drew from his pocket。 He then shut the door
carefully； and with the same slow； hesitating step； felt his way
into the night。
He had but one idea in his mind； to find some lonely spot； some
spot where the footsteps of man would never penetrate； some spot
that would yield him rest； sleep； obliteration； forgetfulness； and；
above all； where HE would be forgotten。 He had seen such places；
surely there were many；where bones were picked up of dead men who
had faded from the earth and had left no other record。 If he could
only keep his senses now he might find such a spot； but he must be
careful； for her little feet went everywhere； and she must never
see him again alive or dead。 And in the midst of his thoughts； and
the darkness； and the storm； he heard a voice at his side； 〃Lance；
how long you have been！〃
。 。 。 。 。 。
Left to himself； the old man again fell into a vacant contemplation
of the dead body before him； until a stronger blast swept down like
an avalanche upon the cabin； burst through the ill…fastened door
and broken chimney； and； dashing the ashes and living embers over
the floor； filled the room with blinding smoke and flame。 Fairley
rose with a feeble cry； and then； as if acted upon by some dominant
memory； groped under the bed until he found his buckskin bag and
his precious crystal； and fled precipitately from the room。 Lifted
by this second shock from his apathy； he returned to the fixed idea
of his life；the discovery and creation of the diamond；and
forgot all else。 The feeble grasp that his shaken intellect kept
of the events of the night relaxed； the disguised Lance； the story
of his son； the murder； slipped into nothingness； there remained
only the one idea； his nightly watch by the diamond pit。 The
instinct of long habit was stronger than the darkness or the onset
of the storm； and he kept his tottering way over stream and fallen
timber until he reached the spot。 A sudden tremor seemed to shake
the lambent flame that had lured him on。 He thought he heard the
sound of voices； there were signs of recent disturbance；
footprints in the sawdust！ With a cry of rage and suspicion；
Fairley slipped into the pit and sprang toward the nearest opening。
To his frenzied fancy it had been tampered with； his secret
discovered； the fruit of his long labors stolen from him that very
night。 With superhuman strength he began to open the pit；
scattering the half…charred logs right and left； and giving vent to
the suffocating gases that rose from the now incandescent charcoal。
At times the fury of the gale would drive it back and hold it
against the sides of the pit； leaving the opening free； at times；
following the blind instinct of habit； the demented man would fall
upon his face and bury his nose and mouth in the wet bark and
sawdust。 At last； the paroxysm past； he sank back again in his old
apathetic attitude of watching； the attitude he had so often kept
beside his sylvan crucible。 In this attitude and in silence he
waited for the dawn。
It came with a hush in the storm； it came with blue openings in the
broken up and tumbled heavens； it came with stars that glistened
first； and then paled； and at last sank drowning in those deep
cerulean lakes； it came with those cerulean lakes broadening into
vaster seas； whose shores expanded at last into one illimitable
ocean； cerulean no more； but flecked with crimson and opal dyes； it
came with the lightly lifted misty curtain of the day； torn and
rent on crag and pine top； but always lifting； lifting。 It came
with the sparkle of emerald in the grasses； and the flash of
diamonds in every spray； with a whisper in the awakening woods； and
voices in the traveled roads and trails。
The sound of these voices stopped before the pit； and seemed to
interrogate the old man。 He came； and； putting his finger on his
lips； made a sign of caution。 When three or four men had descended
he bade them follow him； saying； weakly and disjointedly； but
persistently： 〃My boymy son Robertcame homecame home at last
here with Flipboth of themcome and see！〃
He had reached a little niche or nest in the hillside； and stopped
and suddenly drew aside a blanket。 Beneath it； side by side； lay
Flip and Lance； dead； with their cold hands clasped in each
other's。
〃Suffocated！〃 said two or three； turning with horror toward the
broken up and still smouldering pit。
〃Asleep！〃 said the old man。 〃Asleep！ I've seen 'em lying that way
when they were babies together。 Don't tell me！ Don't say I don't
know my own flesh and blood！ So！ so！ So； my pretty ones！〃 He
stooped and kissed them。 Then； drawing the blanket over them
gently； he rose and said softly； 〃Good night！〃
End
