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第22章

on the frontier-第22章

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Mexican girl mysteriously appeared in the kitchen; as a temporary

assistant to the decrepit Concha。  These were both clearly

attributable to Don Jose; whose visit was not so remote but that

these delicate attentions might have been already projected before

Mrs。 Tucker had declined them; and she could not; without marked

discourtesy; return them now。  She did not wish to seem

discourteous; she would like to have been more civil to this old

gentleman; who still retained the evidences of a picturesque and

decorous past; and a repose so different from the life that was

perplexing her。  Reflecting that if he bought the estate these

things would be ready to his hand; and with a woman's instinct

recognizing their value in setting off the house to other

purchasers' eyes; she took a pleasure in tastefully arranging them;

and even found herself speculating how she might have enjoyed them

herself had she been able to keep possession of the property。

After all; it would not have been so lonely if refined and gentle

neighbors; like this old man; would have sympathized with her; she

had an instinctive feeling that; in their own hopeless decay and

hereditary unfitness for this new civilization; they would have

been more tolerant of her husband's failure than his own kind。  She

could not believe that Don Jose really hated her husband for buying

of the successful claimant; as there was no other legal title。

Allowing herself to become interested in the guileless gossip of

the new handmaiden; proud of her broken English; she was drawn into

a sympathy with the grave simplicity of Don Jose's character; a

relic of that true nobility which placed this descendant of the

Castilians and the daughter of a free people on the same level。



In this way the second day of her occupancy of Los Cuervos closed;

with dumb clouds along the gray horizon; and the paroxysms of

hysterical wind growing fainter and fainter outside the walls; with

the moon rising after nightfall; and losing itself in silent and

mysterious confidences with drifting scud。  She went to bed early;

but woke past midnight; hearing; as she thought; her own name

called。  The impression was so strong upon her that she rose; and;

hastily enwrapping herself; went to the dark embrasures of the

oven…shaped windows; and looked out。  The dwarfed oak beside the

window was still dropping from a past shower; but the level waste

of marsh and meadow beyond seemed to advance and recede with the

coming and going of the moon。  Again she heard her name called; and

this time in accents so strangely familiar that with a slight cry

she ran into the corridor; crossed the patio; and reached the open

gate。  The darkness that had; even in this brief interval; again

fallen upon the prospect she tried in vain to pierce with eye and

voice。  A blank silence followed。  Then the veil was suddenly

withdrawn; the vast plain; stretching from the mountain to the sea;

shone as clearly as in the light of day; the moving current of the

channel glittered like black pearls; the stagnant pools like molten

lead; but not a sign of life nor motion broke the monotony of the

broad expanse。  She must have surely dreamed it。  A chill wind

drove her back to the house again; she entered her bedroom; and in

half an hour she was in a peaceful sleep。





CHAPTER V





The two men kept their secret。  Mr。 Poindexter convinced Mrs。

Tucker that the sale of Los Cuervos could not be effected until the

notoriety of her husband's flight had been fairly forgotten; and

she was forced to accept her fate。  The sale of her diamonds; which

seemed to her to have realized a singularly extravagant sum;

enabled her to quietly reinstate the Pattersons in the tienda and

to discharge in full her husband's liabilities to the rancheros and

his humbler retainers。



Meanwhile the winter rains had ceased。  It seemed to her as if the

clouds had suddenly one night struck their white tents and stolen

away; leaving the unvanquished sun to mount the vacant sky the next

morning alone; and possess it thenceforward unchallenged。  One

afternoon she thought the long sad waste before her window had

caught some tint of gayer color from the sunset; a week later she

found it a blazing landscape of poppies; broken here and there by

blue lagoons of lupine; by pools of daisies; by banks of dog…roses;

by broad outlying shores of dandelions that scattered their lavish

gold to the foot of the hills; where the green billows of wild oats

carried it on and upwards to the darker crest of pines。  For two

months she was dazzled and bewildered with color。  She had never

before been face to face with this spendthrift Californian Flora;

in her virgin wastefulness; her more than goddess…like prodigality。

The teeming earth seemed to quicken and throb beneath her feet; the

few circuits of a plough around the outlying corral were enough to

call out a jungle growth of giant grain that almost hid the low

walls of the hacienda。  In this glorious fecundity of the earth; in

this joyous renewal of life and color; in this opulent youth and

freshness of soil and sky; it alone remained; the dead and sterile

Past; left in the midst of buoyant rejuvenescence and resurrection;

like an empty churchyard skull upturned on the springing turf。  Its

bronzed adobe walls mocked the green vine that embraced them; the

crumbling dust of its courtyard remained ungerminating and

unfruitful; to the thousand stirring voices without; its dry lips

alone remained mute; unresponsive and unchanged。



During this time Don Jose had become a frequent visitor at Los

Cuervos; bringing with him at first his niece and sister in a

stately precision of politeness that was not lost on the proud Blue

Grass stranger。  She returned their visit at Los Gatos; and there

made the formal acquaintance of Don Jose's grandmother; a lady who

still regarded the decrepit Concha as a giddy muchacha; and who

herself glittered as with the phosphorescence of refined decay。

Through this circumstance she learned that Don Jose was not yet

fifty; and that his gravity of manner and sedateness was more the

result of fastidious isolation and temperament than years。  She

could not tell why the information gave her a feeling of annoyance;

but it caused her to regret the absence of Poindexter; and to

wonder; also somewhat nervously; why he had lately avoided her

presence。  The thought that he might be doing so from a recollection

of the innuendoes of Mrs。 Patterson caused a little tremor of

indignation in her pulses。  〃As if〃 but she did not finish the

sentence even to herself; and her eyes filled with bitter tears。



Yet she had thought of the husband who had so cruelly wronged her

less feverishly; less impatiently than before。  For she thought she

loved him now the more deeply; because; although she was not

reconciled to his absence; it seemed to keep alive the memory of

what he had been before his one wild act separated them。  She had

never seen the reflection of another woman's eyes in his; the past

contained no haunting recollection of waning or alienated

affection; she could meet him again; and; clasping her arms around

him; awaken as if from a troubled dream without reproach or

explanation。  Her strong belief in this made her patient; she no

longer sought to know the particulars of his flight; and never

dreamed that her passive submission to his absence was partly due

to a fear that something in his actual presence at that moment

would have destroyed that belief forever。



For this reason the delicate reticence of the people at Los Gatos;

and their seclusion from the world which knew of her husband's

fault; had made her encourage the visits of Don Jose; until from

the instinct already alluded to she one day summoned Poindexter to

Los Cuervos; on the day that Don Jose usually called。  But to her

surprise the two men met more or less awkwardly and coldly; and her

tact as hostess was tried to 

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