a waif of the plains-第21章

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entered　a　town　at　nightfall；　and　lodged　with　another　friend　of
Flynn's　in　rooms　which　from　vague　sounds　appeared　to　be　over　a
gambling　saloon。　　Clarence　woke　late　in　the　morning；　and；
descending　into　the　street　to　mount　for　the　day's　journey；　was
startled　to　find　that　Flynn　was　not　on　the　other　horse；　but　that　a
well…dressed　and　handsome　stranger　had　taken　his　place。　　But　a
laugh；　and　the　familiar　command；　〃Jump　up；　boy；〃　made　him　look
again。　　It　WAS　Flynn；　but　completely　shaven　of　beard　and　mustache；
closely　clipped　of　hair；　and　in　a　fastidiously　cut　suit　of　black！

〃Then　you　didn't　know　me？〃　said　Flynn。

〃Not　till　you　spoke；〃　replied　Clarence。

〃So　much　the　better；〃　said　his　friend　sententiously；　as　he　put
spurs　to　his　horse。　　But　as　they　cantered　through　the　street；
Clarence；　who　had　already　become　accustomed　to　the　stranger's
hirsute　adornment；　felt　a　little　more　awe　of　him。　　The　profile　of
the　mouth　and　chin　now　exposed　to　his　sidelong　glance　was　hard　and
stern；　and　slightly　saturnine。　　Although　unable　at　the　time　to
identify　it　with　anybody　he　had　ever　known；　it　seemed　to　the
imaginative　boy　to　be　vaguely　connected　with　some　sad　experience。
But　the　eyes　were　thoughtful　and　kindly；　and　the　boy　later　believed
that　if　he　had　been　more　familiar　with　the　face　he　would　have　loved
it　better。　　For　it　was　the　last　and　only　day　he　was　to　see　it；　as；
late　that　afternoon；　after　a　dusty　ride　along　more　traveled
highways；　they　reached　their　journey's　end。

It　was　a　low…walled　house；　with　red…tiled　roofs　showing　against　the
dark　green　of　venerable　pear　and　fig　trees；　and　a　square　court…yard
in　the　centre；　where　they　had　dismounted。　　A　few　words　in　Spanish
from　Flynn　to　one　of　the　lounging　peons　admitted　them　to　a　wooden
corridor；　and　thence　to　a　long；　low　room；　which　to　Clarence's　eyes
seemed　literally　piled　with　books　and　engravings。　　Here　Flynn
hurriedly　bade　him　stay　while　he　sought　the　host　in　another　part　of
the　building。　　But　Clarence　did　not　miss　him；　indeed；　it　may　be
feared；　he　forgot　even　the　object　of　their　journey　in　the　new
sensations　that　suddenly　thronged　upon　him；　and　the　boyish　vista　of
the　future　that　they　seemed　to　open。　　He　was　dazed　and　intoxicated。
He　had　never　seen　so　many　books　before；　he　had　never　conceived　of
such　lovely　pictures。　　And　yet　in　some　vague　way　he　thought　he　must
have　dreamt　of　them　at　some　time。　　He　had　mounted　a　chair；　and　was
gazing　spellbound　at　an　engraving　of　a　sea…fight　when　he　heard
Flynn's　voice。

His　friend　had　quietly　reentered　the　room；　in　company　with　an
oldish；　half…foreign…looking　man；　evidently　his　relation。　　With　no
helping　recollection；　with　no　means　of　comparison　beyond　a　vague
idea　that　his　cousin　might　look　like　himself；　Clarence　stood
hopelessly　before　him。　　He　had　already　made　up　his　mind　that　he
would　have　to　go　through　the　usual　cross…questioning　in　regard　to
his　father　and　family；　he　had　even　forlornly　thought　of　inventing
some　innocent　details　to　fill　out　his　imperfect　and　unsatisfactory
recollection。　　But；　glancing　up；　he　was　surprised　to　find　that　his
elderly　cousin　was　as　embarrassed　as　he　was；　Flynn；　as　usual；
masterfully　interposed。

〃Of　course　ye　don't　remember　each　other；　and　thar　ain't　much　that
either　of　you　knows　about　family　matters；　I　reckon；〃　he　said
grimly；　〃and　as　your　cousin　calls　himself　Don　Juan　Robinson；〃　he
added　to　Clarence；　〃it's　just　as　well　that　you　let　'Jackson　Brant'
slide。　　I　know　him　better　than　you；　but　you'll　get　used　to　him；　and
he　to　you；　soon　enough。　　At　least；　you'd　better；〃　he　concluded；
with　his　singular　gravity。

As　he　turned　as　if　to　leave　the　room　with　Clarence's　embarrassed
relativemuch　to　that　gentleman's　apparent　reliefthe　boy　looked
up　at　the　latter　and　said　timidly

〃May　I　look　at　those　books？〃

His　cousin　stopped；　and　glanced　at　him　with　the　first　expression　of
interest　he　had　shown。

〃Ah；　you　read；　you　like　books？〃

〃Yes；〃　said　Clarence。　　As　his　cousin　remained　still　looking　at　him
thoughtfully；　he　added；　〃My　hands　are　pretty　clean；　but　I　can　wash
them　first；　if　you　like。〃

〃You　may　look　at　them；〃　said　Don　Juan　smilingly；　〃and　as　they　are
old　books　you　can　wash　your　hands　afterwards。〃　　And；　turning　to
Flynn　suddenly；　with　an　air　of　relief；　〃I　tell　you　what　I'll　do
I'll　teach　him　Spanish！〃

They　left　the　room　together；　and　Clarence　turned　eagerly　to　the
shelves。　　They　were　old　books；　some　indeed　very　old；　queerly　bound；
and　worm…eaten。　　Some　were　in　foreign　languages；　but　others　in
clear；　bold　English　type；　with　quaint　wood…cuts　and　illustrations。
One　seemed　to　be　a　chronicle　of　battles　and　sieges；　with　pictured
representations　of　combatants　spitted　with　arrows；　cleanly　lopped
off　in　limb；　or　toppled　over　distinctly　by　visible　cannon…shot。　　He
was　deep　in　its　perusal　when　he　heard　the　clatter　of　a　horse's
hoofs　in　the　court…yard　and　the　voice　of　Flynn。　　He　ran　to　the
window；　and　was　astonished　to　see　his　friend　already　on　horseback；
taking　leave　of　his　host。

For　one　instant　Clarence　felt　one　of　those　sudden　revulsions　of
feeling　common　to　his　age；　but　which　he　had　always　timidly　hidden
under　dogged　demeanor。　　Flynn；　his　only　friend！　　Flynn；　his　only
boyish　confidant！　　Flynn；　his　latest　hero；　was　going　away　and
forsaking　him　without　a　word　of　parting！　　It　was　true　that　he　had
only　agreed　to　take　him　to　his　guardian；　but　still　Flynn　need　not
have　left　him　without　a　word　of　hope　or　encouragement！　　With　any
one　else　Clarence　would　probably　have　taken　refuge　in　his　usual
Indian　stoicism；　but　the　same　feeling　that　had　impelled　him　to
offer　Flynn　his　boyish　confidences　on　their　first　meeting　now
overpowered　him。　　He　dropped　his　book；　ran　out　into　the　corridor；
and　made　his　way　to　the　court…yard；　just　as　Flynn　galloped　out　from
the　arch。

But　the　boy　uttered　a　despairing　shout　that　reached　the　rider。　　He
drew　rein；　wheeled；　halted；　and　sat　facing　Clarence　impatiently。
To　add　to　Clarence's　embarrassment　his　cousin　had　lingered　in　the
corridor；　attracted　by　the　interruption；　and　a　peon；　lounging　in
the　archway；　obsequiously　approached　Flynn's　bridle…rein。　　But　the
rider　waved　him　off；　and；　turning　sternly　to　Clarence；　said：

〃What's　the　matter　now？〃

〃Nothing；〃　said　Clarence；　striving　to　keep　back　the　hot　tears　that
rose　in　his　eyes。　　〃But　you　were　going　away　without　saying　'good…
by。'　　You've　been　very　kind　to　me；　andandI　want　to　thank　you！〃

A　deep　flush　crossed　Flynn's　face。　　Then　glancing　suspiciously
towards　the　corridor；　he　said　hurriedly；

〃Did　HE　send　you？〃

〃No；　I　came　myself。　　I　heard　you　going。〃

〃All　right。　　Good…by。〃　　He　leaned　forward　as　if　about　to　take
Clarence's　outstretched　hand；　checked　himself　suddenly　with　a　grim
smile；　and　taking　from　his　pocket　a　gold　coin　handed　it　to　the　boy。

Clarence　took　it；　tossed　it　with　a　proud　gesture　to　the　waiting
peon；　who　caught　it　thankfully；　drew　back　a　step　from　Flynn；　and
saying；　with　white　cheeks；　〃I　only　wanted　to　say　good…by；〃　dropped
his　hot　eyes　to　the　ground。　　But　it　did　not　seem　to　be　his　own
voice　that　had　spoken；　nor　his　own　self　that　had　prompted　the　act。

There　was　a　quick　interchange　of　glances　between　the　departing
guest　and　his　late　host；　in　which　Flynn's　eyes　flashed　with　an　odd；
admiring　fire；　but　when　Clarence　raised　his　head　again　he　was　gone。
And　as　the　boy　turned　back　with　a　broken　heart　towards　the
corridor；　his　cousin　laid　his　hand　upon　his　shoulder。

〃Muy　hidalgamente；　Clarence；〃　he　said　pleasantly。　　〃Yes；　we　shall
make　something　of　you！〃


CHAPTER　X


Then　followed　to　Clarence　three　uneventful　years。　　During　that
interval　he　learnt　that　Jackson　Brant；　or　Don　Juan　Robinsonfor
the　tie　of　kinship　was　the　least　factor　in　their　relations　to　each
other；　and　after　the　departure　of　Flynn　was　tacitly　ignored　by
bothwas　more　Spanish　than　American。　　An　early　residence　in　Lower
California；　marriage　with　a　rich　Mexican　widow；　whose　dying
childless　left　him　sole　heir；　and　some　strange　restraining
idiosyncrasy　of　temperament　had　quite　denationalized　him。　　A
bookish　recluse；　somewhat　superfastidious　towards　his　own
countrymen；　the　more　Clarence　knew　him　the　more　singular　appeared
his　acquaintance　with　Flynn；　but　as　he