Читать книгу Bram Stoker: The Complete Novels - A to Z Classics - Страница 48

It was some little time before either Mrs. Elstree or Esse could get an opportunity of rejoining Dick. The news of Esse’s engagement had got about, and all her friends made a point of coming round to offer good wishes. The stream seemed to Esse as if it would never end, for with each moment her anxiety grew. Those who have not experienced it cannot understand the rapidity with which a desire for a few moments’ thought grows, until it becomes a sort of agony. Esse was in a way chained to the social stake. She had to stay by her mother, to smile, and give her whole thoughts to what was going on around her. She would have given anything to have had time to warn her mother, or Reginald, to take care of Dick, and find out his purpose; for all the time unconscious cerebration was working, and she was rapidly coming to the conclusion that Peter Blyth’s message had gone, and that Dick’s presence was an answer to it. Reginald saw with the eyes of love her anxiety, but could do nothing to allay it; he, too, was chained to the stake by the exceptional circumstances of his social duty. Presently they heard a loud laugh in the room behind them, followed by a titter of feminine voices, and a louder laugh from men. Esse felt her ears burning. Her mother shot a quick glance at her and said sotto voce:

“Never mind, dear, we shall be able to attend to him in a few moments; I see the stream is slackening.”

A few minutes more and the last of the guests, except stragglers, had arrived, and they were free to move about. Esse went off to look for Dick, for she felt that he was safest with her, and that she was safest too, for she did not know what he might not do or say in his strange surroundings. She found him in the midst of a group of the smartest young people in San Francisco society. Poor Dick in his ignorance thought he was getting on capitally, for in the society in which he had hitherto mixed the person who caused the loudest laughter was most esteemed of the company. He had with his native taste and daring selected out the prettiest girl in the room, one who though ostensibly one of Esse’s “dearest friends” yet bore her no good will since it had been apparent to her that Reginald Hampden, upon whom she had set her heart, was in love with her friend. The recent knowledge of their engagement was gall and wormwood to her, and she was delighted to have an opportunity of making Esse feel uncomfortable. Dick had opened his conversation with a piece of complimentary pleasantry such as he would have used to a barmaid in a dancing saloon, nothing coarse, nothing unpleasant, but altogether familiar and out of place in a conventional assembly. The young lady was not offended, a girl very seldom is at being singled out for compliment by a fine-looking man, be he never so rude in his style; but she saw her opportunity, and led him on. She had seen the familiarity of Esse’s greeting, and, though she did not comprehend the whole situation, saw that there was fun for her and others, and some sort of humiliation for her friend. So she at once began to ask Dick questions, and to encourage him to laugh and make remarks. Some of her smart set came round, and a game of refined bantering began, the victim being unconscious of his ridiculous position, and of the ridicule showered upon him. That was the fun of the game — Dick was not the build of person that a man would ostensibly make game of, unless he wanted a fight. She asked him all about Esse, and supposed all manner of things as to their friendship; and in fine brought Dick to the point of bragging, not of his own prowess, but of hers. This involved an appearance of familiarity with Esse, and as he went on she gently insinuated that they must be great friends: at last she daringly said:

“If I was a man, and a girl saved my life, I would ask her to marry me. I think it would be the least I could do!”

“Now, do ye really think so, miss? Wall, I do admire! Do tell, now, how ye’d set about it?”

Poor Dick had quite fallen into the trap through his very simplicity, and the honesty of his purpose in coming to the city. His tormentor, gathering courage from the winks and smiles of her male admirers round her, said:

“In the most open way I could! I’d ask her before all her friends, so that there might be no mistake. If I wanted to honour her by the offer of my hand and heart there should not be any slouch about it!”

“Shake!” said Dick, extending his mighty hand, and half a moment later his new friend, with a rueful smile, raised a crumpled hand, and looked at the blood, where her rings had cut into her crushed fingers, which was beginning to show through the rent in her glove.

“Oh, I say,” said one of her admirers, “has the clumsy brute hurt you?”

“Miss,” said Dick, “I humbly beg yer pardon! I never thought of how tender ye women critters is. I should have known better.”

Then he turned to the last speaker and said:

“Look here, Jedge, I wouldn’t be so free with them cuss words o’ yourn. Ef ye fling them about so promiscuous, some one is apt to be hurt. They’re worse’n chunks of rock, anyway!”

The man addressed ran his eye up him from his boots to his oily hair but said nothing.

At this moment Esse came forward, and Dick, seeing her, and with her a way out of the embarrassment due to his clumsy strength, stepped towards her, and delivered himself of a little speech which he had rehearsed to himself an innumerable number of times on his journey from Shasta. He had submitted it to his casual friends the bar-keeper and the barber at Sacramento, and armed with their approval, and fortified by the expression of Esse’s young lady friend, whom he took to typify fashionable society, and who had used almost his words, he had no hesitation now in speaking. Dick was in no wise a coward; he could face an awkward situation, and, like many another man, he had only to begin to find all his difficulty removed. Esse stood amazed when he began his speech, and for a moment looked helplessly round her; but then, catching Reginald’s eye as he stood on the outskirts of the little throng, braced herself to the situation, and smoothed her face to a grave smile by mere force of education and habit.

“Little Missy! An honest man’s love is all that he can give the proudest lady! I am only a simple man, but I have come from the snows of Shasta to do ye the only honour in my power. I am glad to do it before your honoured friends and your family circle. Will you honour me by becoming my wife and giving me your heart and hand?”

Having spoken, he looked calmly around him, as one does who has done a meritorious action, and done it well. Esse felt the blood rushing up to her head, and burning her cheeks and ears, as she heard the titter of laughter around her. Dick heard it too, and faced round with a quick flush.

It was just at this moment that Peter Blyth came into the room, standing just inside the doorway. He saw instantly that something was afoot, and said to the servant at the door:

“Who is that, Stephens? that gentleman with the shiny hair, with his back towards us?”

“That, sir? I think his name is Mr. Measly Shostoo, or words to that effek!”

“Mr. how much?”

“Measly Shostoo, sir. I didn’t hear him pernounce it hisself, for I was a-taking of the ‘ats in the ‘all, but only on the transgression.”

Just then, Dick turned, and Peter saw him, and instantly recognised the situation. He hurried in, but too late to be of any immediate service, and stood by, ready.

Esse did not know exactly what she should do, but instinctively she put her hand up, and said with a smile:

“Oh, Dick, Dick! not before all these people! They’ll think you are making game of me.”

One of the smart young men here said:

“Making game of her! He is a hunter! Good!”

Dick turned on him like lightning:

“Dry up there, mister! I don’t make game of no female of her sex; and I don’t allow no man to say I do, see? Look ye here, Little Missy, this is honest Injin, a right square game; and, durn me, but I mean it down to my boots. This ain’t no ten-cent ante, no bluff on a pair, but a dead sure thing — a straight flush, ace high!”

Instantly there was a chorus of ironical remarks from the men all round:

“I straddle the blind!”

“Raise him out of his boots, pard!”

“I go you two chips better!”

“Make it a Jack-pot!”

Dick looked around again scornfully, but as he did so he caught Esse’s eye, and seemed to recognise the story which it told; the ripple of laughter around, however, filled up the blanks, where there were any to fill. Dick felt that he was fooled. He was, as may have been seen already, a vain man, all the more vain because of the consciousness of its own strength. Hitherto in his life he had only been tested in ways that brought out his natural force and left it triumphant; and the habit of his life was behind him to resent an affront. He glared at the ring of faces around him, and this time his look meant mischief to all who knew danger signals in a man’s face. Controlling himself with an effort, he said to Esse:

“Little Missy, ye ain’t a-foolin’ me, air ye?”

“Oh, no, Dick; no, no!”

“Then I wish I had that laughin’ jackass that kem all the way up on Shasta to fool me — to fool me in face of all these —”

Here he looked around again, and, as he did so, whipped from the collar of his coat his great bowie knife and, pressing the spring, threw it open with a dexterous jerk. No woman screamed; it takes more than a generation of ignorance of such matters to make women fear cold steel. But there was more than one woman present who in earlier days had seen just such quiet anger flame out and end in murder, and with one accord they drew back and left the men in front. Dick, seeing only men’s faces, finished his scornful sentence:

“These — these swine! There he is, the laughin’ jackass hisself!” he said, seeing Peter Blyth’s face in the ring, where the withdrawal of the womenkind had left him in the front.

With a sudden spring he caught him by the throat with his powerful left hand, and held him as in a vice. Esse was paralyzed, and could make neither sound nor stir, and Peter Blyth found himself, for the first time in his life, face to face with sudden death. The rest of the men round feared to stir, not for themselves, for there was not one of them, being Californians, who would not cheerfully have made the battle his own; but they were all unarmed, and they feared that in his present infuriated condition Dick might do a brutal violence before he could be restrained. As for Peter his manhood stood to him. He did not flinch, but with cool, calm courage faced the situation. On one side was Dick, more dangerous than any wild animal, and ready to do anything, as he thundered out:

“Now, ye dog, tell me what ye meant by foolin’ me and shamin’ me this way; and beg my pardon, or by the Almighty I’ll corpse ye — whar ye stand!”

On the other side was Esse’s quivering face, all fright; but fright of many kinds, for Peter, and for the shame of the open exposure of her secret which she saw coming. Peter Blyth did not himself quite know how matters stood: he had not yet heard of Esse’s engagement to Reginald. All he knew was that Dick was there in such a rage that it might mean death and disaster and life-long sorrow to those he loved. The comedy had all at once and, with a vengeance, become a tragedy. So he was silent, and Dick, who was all man, even in his blood-madness, recognised the courage in him, and with an imperious gesture threw him off, saying:

“I suppose ye ain’t no worse nor the rest. I’ve seen the day when I cleared out the Holy Moses saloon in Portland for less than this. Answer me some of ye! what does it all mean?”

It was a terrible situation, and in all that roomful of people, now as still as death, there was not one whose heart did not beat quickly, or seem to stand still at the thought of the potent, reckless, fatal force which seemed to have been let loose amongst them. In the midst of the silence Reginald Hampden stepped out, and Esse felt glad, and a new sense of relief, as she noticed his calm and gallant bearing. He moved towards Dick, and said with courtly sweetness:

“I hope I may speak here, since it is my privilege to speak for Miss Elstree! Look, sir! Look; the young lady! You are distressing her! I know you to be a brave man, and, from all I have heard her say to your honour, I am quite sure you would not willingly cause her harm or humiliate her. See, sir! you are crushing her to the dust!” as he spoke he went to Esse and stood beside her.

A quick flush seemed to leap up Dick’s face from neck to forehead; his hand dropped, and with a sound in his throat between a sob and a gasp, he said:

“Little Missy, forgive me if ye can! I must have gone mad! This galoot here was pretty right when he called me a brute. Let me get back to the b’ars an’ the Injuns. I’m more to home with them than I am here. Be easy, Little Missy, an’ ye too, all ye ladies and gentlemen; it’ll be no pleasant thinkin’ for me up yonder, away among the mountings, that when I kem down to ‘Frisco, meanin’ to do honour to a young lady that I’d give the best drop of my blood for — and she knows it — I couldn’t keep my blasted hands off my weppins in the midst of a crowd of women! Durn the thing! I ain’t fit to go heeled inter decent kempany!”

As he spoke he lifted his arm, and with a mighty downward sweep hurled down his bowie knife, so that it stuck inches deep into the oaken floor, where it quivered. Once more he turned to Esse:

“Forgive me, Little Missy; an’ if ye kin forgit me, an’ the shame I’ve brought upon ye and yer house!”

He bowed and was moving away, when again Reginald, to whom Esse had whispered, strode forward.

“No, sir! You must not go like that. There is a mistake here which must be set right! You will understand me when I tell you that Miss Elstree has done me the honour to consent to be my wife. You have been put in a false position. It is quite true that Esse wished to see you; that she asked her friend, Mr. Blyth, to carry such a message to you. Believe me, that she does understand and appreciate the honour that you have done her, though, I must say, in some justification of these other ladies and gentlemen, in so unconventional a manner. But you must not leave the house in such a way! Believe me, you are, and ever shall be, an honoured guest in a house to which you have saved so dear a life!”

And he put his arm round Esse who had got suddenly pale and seemed about to faint.

“One of you boys,” he said, “pick up Dick’s knife and give it to him. I can’t move yet!”

One of the young men took the handle and tugged at it, but in vain. There was a laugh; another tried it, but with the same effect. A smile stole over the pale anger of Dick’s face; he was beginning to yield to the humour of the situation, and he stood silent where he was. Mrs. Elstree came forward, she had only just come into the room, having been in the music-room, and did not understand what was going on, but seeing Esse’s head drooping had flown to her side. Reginald, finding her mother’s arms round her, left her side and striding forward, seized the handle of the bowie knife. With a sharp jerk, and with a force which made his arm tingle from wrist to shoulder, and sent the blood up into his head, he plucked it from the floor amid a buzz of approval, and a responsive “Good!” from Dick as he slapped his thigh in his old fashion. He stepped over to Dick, shutting the knife with an experienced jerk, and held it out him:

“Your weapon, sir!” he said, “but I should be very proud if you will let me keep it, in memory of a brave man to whom I and others owe so much!”

“Take it,” said Dick, “an’ welkim! The poor thing’ll never, I am sure, be disgraced by ye as it was tonight by me. Shake! Ye’re a man, ye are; and I wish you and Little Missy all the happiness in the world!”

The two men shook hands and Reginald went on:

“You’ll let me give you this in exchange, I hope.” He drew from his pocket, and detached from its gold chain, a beautiful hunting knife. “It is not merely that it is mine, but it was given me by an emperor, who was good enough to say I had done him some service when a wild boar charged him in a Thuringian forest.”

Dick took the knife:

“I’ll take it and keep it, pard, because on my soul I believe it will pleasure ye if I wear it! An’ now, good night, an’ I humbly ask all yer pardon for my conduct! Forget it and me if ye can!” and he moved to the door.

Here Mrs. Elstree spoke out; Esse had been whispering to her during the foregoing:

“No, no, Mr. Grizzly Dick, you must not go! There is no one who can come into my house that I could be more glad to see. You must stay and show us all that you forgive us that we have amongst us made you, for a time, uncomfortable!”

He paused, and Esse stepped up to him, her eyes this time full of tears, and said:

“Yes, Dick, do stay; if only to show me that you forgive me! And that you are not unhappy for what has passed. Dick — D — D — Dick, sh — sh — shake!”

Her tears fell as he clasped her two hands and whispered to her:

“Lord love ye, Little Missy, I ain’t a-goin’ to be unhappy. Why, I only kem down from the mounting because I heerd tell that it was like ye wanted me. I didn’t believe it myself, an’ I feared it would be a mistake if ye did. But that wasn’t my affair, but yourn; an’ whatever ye’d do would be right enough for me. An’ as to forgivin’! — Wall of course I’ll stay if ye wish it. I think I’ve made this jamboree pretty dismal enough already, without refusin’ to do anything I kin do to help make it lively again.”

Another voice now joined in, that of the young lady who had commenced the trouble.

“Yes, stay! Do stay, Mr. Grizzly Dick, and presently you must dance with me, if only to show me that you forgive my bad manners and my unkindness of heart. And if you do tread on my toes, I guess we’ll be about even!”

“Done with ye, miss; but I’m afeerd this here rig out of mine ain’t jest exactly the thing for a fash’nable party. So ye’ll hev to excuse me.”

“Never mind, Dick,” said Reginald heartily; “we are all friends of yours here! If there are any who are not so, then they are no friend of our hostess or of me either; and I’ll stand back to back, if you’ll let me, when we slice up the last of them!”

Dick smiled a good ten-inch smile, and just then catching sight of Peter Blyth’s face he slapped his thigh and burst out into a peal of laughter. Going over to him he held out his hand saying:

“Ye’ll forgive me, pard, won’t ye; though I mighty near skelped ye? Ye took it well though! Durned, but ye took it standin’ with yer boots on! I only hope I’ll take it as well when my time comes; fur ye had a close call that time — closer’n ever ye’ll hev it again. Shake!”

The two men shook hands, and Peter Blyth, within his mind’s eye the recollection of their first meeting, roared with laughing too. Then Reginald came and slapped him on the shoulder and said:

“Come with me, Dick. I’ve got something that will make you feel more comfortable than this Sacramento rig out!” Then he straightway took him off to his own room.

Some fifteen minutes afterwards there was a buzz of admiration through the room when Dick entered, clad in a hunter’s outfit, something like his own, which Reginald had some time before bought from the Indians as a model for his work.

There was about him something so fresh, and wild, and free — so noble a simplicity and manhood, that more than one woman present did not wonder that Esse had asked him to come down to ‘Frisco.