a first family of tasajara- 第7部分

up；　that　was　another　matter；　and　he　and　'Lige　could　arrange　it

between　them。　　He　was　quite　firm　here；　and　oddly　enough　quite

relieved　in　getting　rid　of　what　appeared　only　a　simple　question　of

detail。　　He　never　suspected　that　he　was　contemplating　the　one

irretrievable　step；　and　summarily　dismissing　the　whole　ethical

question。



He　turned　away　from　the　stove；　opened　the　back　door；　and　walked

with　a　more　determined　step　through　the　passage　to　the　sitting…

room。　　But　here　he　halted　again　on　the　threshold　with　a　quick

return　of　his　old　habits　of　caution。　　The　door　was　slightly　open；

apparently　his　angry　outbreak　of　an　hour　ago　had　not　affected　the

spirits　of　his　daughters；　for　he　could　hear　their　hilarious　voices

mingling　with　those　of　the　strangers。　　They　were　evidently　still

fortune…telling；　but　this　time　it　was　the　prophetic　and　divining

accents　of　Mr。　Rice　addressed　to　Clementina　which　were　now　plainly

audible。



〃I　see　heaps　of　money　and　a　great　many　friends　in　the　change　that

is　coming　to　you。　　Dear　me！　how　many　suitors！　　But　I　cannot　promise

you　any　marriage　as　brilliant　as　my　friend　has　just　offered　your

sister。　　You　may　be　certain；　however；　that　you'll　have　your　own

choice　in　this；　as　you　have　in　all　things。〃



〃Thank　you　for　nothing；〃　said　Clementina's　voice。　　〃But　what　are

those　horrid　black　cards　beside　them？that's　trouble；　I'm　sure。〃



〃Not　for　you；　though　near　you。　　Perhaps　some　one　you　don't　care

much　for　and　don't　understand　will　have　a　heap　of　trouble　on　your

account；yes；　on　account　of　these　very　riches；　see；　he　follows　the

ten　of　diamonds。　　It　may　be　a　suitor；　it　may　be　some　one　now　in　the

house；　perhaps。〃



〃He　means　himself；　Miss　Clementina；〃　struck　in　Grant's　voice

laughingly。



〃You're　not　listening；　Miss　Harkutt；〃　said　Rice　with　half…serious

reproach。　　〃Perhaps　you　know　who　it　is？〃



But　Miss　Clementina's　reply　was　simply　a　hurried　recognition　of　her

father's　pale　face　that　here　suddenly　confronted　her　with　the

opening　door。



〃Why；　it's　father！〃





CHAPTER　III。





In　his　strange　mental　condition　even　the　change　from　Harkutt's

feeble　candle　to　the　outer　darkness　for　a　moment　blinded　Elijah

Curtis；　yet　it　was　part　of　that　mental　condition　that　he　kept

moving　steadily　forward　as　in　a　trance　or　dream；　though　at　first

purposelessly。　　Then　it　occurred　to　him　that　he　was　really　looking

for　his　horse；　and　that　the　animal　was　not　there。　　This　for　a

moment　confused　and　frightened　him；　first　with　the　supposition　that

he　had　not　brought　him　at　all；　but　that　it　was　part　of　his

delusion；　secondly；　with　the　conviction　that　without　his　horse　he

could　neither　proceed　on　the　course　suggested　by　Harkutt；　nor　take

another　more　vague　one　that　was　dimly　in　his　mind。　　Yet　in　his

hopeless　vacillation　it　seemed　a　relief　that　now　neither　was

practicable；　and　that　he　need　do　nothing。　　Perhaps　it　was　a

mysterious　providence！



The　explanation；　however；　was　much　simpler。　　The　horse　had　been

taken　by　the　luxurious　and　indolent　Billings　unknown　to　his

companions。　　Overcome　at　the　dreadful　prospect　of　walking　home　in

that　weather；　this　perfect　product　of　lethargic　Sidon　had　artfully

allowed　Peters　and　Wingate　to　precede　him；　and；　cautiously

unloosing　the　tethered　animal；　had　safely　passed　them　in　the

darkness。　　When　he　gained　his　own　inclosure　he　had　lazily

dismounted；　and；　with　a　sharp　cut　on　the　mustang's　haunches；　sent

him　galloping　back　to　rejoin　his　master；　with　what　result　has　been

already　told　by　the　unsuspecting　Peters　in　the　preceding　chapter。



Yet　no　conception　of　this　possibility　entered　'Lige　Curtis's

alcoholized　consciousness；　part　of　whose　morbid　phantasy　it　was　to

distort　or　exaggerate　all　natural　phenomena。　　He　had　a　vague　idea

that　he　could　not　go　back　to　Harkutt's；　already　his　visit　seemed　to

have　happened　long；　long　ago；　and　could　not　be　repeated。　　He　would

walk　on；　enwrapped　in　this　uncompromising　darkness　which　concealed

everything；　suggested　everything；　and　was　responsible　for

everything。



It　was　very　dark；　for　the　wind；　having　lulled；　no　longer　thinned

the　veil　of　clouds　above；　nor　dissipated　a　steaming　mist　that

appeared　to　rise　from　the　sodden　plain。　　Yet　he　moved　easily

through　the　darkness；　seeming　to　be　upheld　by　it　as　something

tangible；　upon　which　he　might　lean。　　At　times　he　thought　he　heard

voices；not　a　particular　voice　he　was　thinking　of；　but　strange

voicesof　course　unreal　to　his　present　fancy。　　And　then　he　heard

one　of　these　voices；　unlike　any　voice　in　Sidon；　and　very　faint　and

far　off；　asking　if　it　〃was　anywhere　near　Sidon？〃evidently　some

one　lost　like　himself。　　He　answered　in　a　voice　that　seemed　quite　as

unreal　and　as　faint；　and　turned　in　the　direction　from　which　it

came。　　There　was　a　light　moving　like　a　will…o'…the…wisp　far　before

him；　yet　below　him　as　if　coming　out　of　the　depths　of　the　earth。　　It

must　be　fancy；　but　he　would　seeah！



He　had　fallen　violently　forward；　and　at　the　same　moment　felt　his

revolver　leap　from　his　breast　pocket　like　a　living　thing；　and　an

instant　after　explode　upon　the　rock　where　it　struck；　blindingly

illuminating　the　declivity　down　which　he　was　plunging。　　The

sulphurous　sting　of　burning　powder　was　in　his　eyes　and　nose；　yet　in

that　swift　revealing　flash　he　had　time　to　clutch　the　stems　of　a

trailing　vine　beside　him；　but　not　to　save　his　head　from　sharp

contact　with　the　same　rocky　ledge　that　had　caught　his　pistol。　　The

pain　and　shock　gave　way　to　a　sickening　sense　of　warmth　at　the　roots

of　his　hair。　　Giddy　and　faint；　his　fingers　relaxed；　he　felt　himself

sinking；　with　a　languor　that　was　half　acquiescence；　down；　down；

until；　with　another　shock；　a　wild　gasping　for　air；　and　a　swift

reaction；　he　awoke　in　the　cold；　rushing　water！



Clear　and　perfectly　conscious　now；　though　frantically　fighting　for

existence　with　the　current；　he　could　dimly　see　a　floating　black

object　shooting　by　the　shore；　at　times　striking　the　projections　of

the　bank；　until　in　its　recoil　it　swung　half　round　and　drifted

broadside　on　towards　him。　　He　was　near　enough　to　catch　the　frayed

ends　of　a　trailing　rope　that　fastened　the　structure；　which　seemed

to　be　a　few　logs；　together。　　With　a　convulsive　effort　he　at　last

gained　a　footing　upon　it；　and　then　fell　fainting　along　its　length。

It　was　the　raft　which　the　surveyors　from　the　embarcadero　had　just

abandoned。



He　did　not　know　this；　nor　would　he　have　thought　it　otherwise

strange　that　a　raft　might　be　a　part　of　the　drift　of　the　overflow；

even　had　he　been　entirely　conscious；　but　his　senses　were　failing；

though　he　was　still　able　to　keep　a　secure　position　on　the　raft；　and

to　vaguely　believe　that　it　would　carry　him　to　some　relief　and

succor。　　How　long　he　lay　unconscious　he　never　knew；　in　his　after…

recollections　of　that　night；　it　seemed　to　have　been　haunted　by

dreams　of　passing　dim　banks　and　strange　places；　of　a　face　and　voice

that　had　been　pleasant　to　him；　of　a　terror　coming　upon　him　as　he

appeared　to　be　nearing　a　place　like　that　home　that　he　had　abandoned

in　the　lonely　tules。　　He　was　roused　at　last　by　a　violent　headache；

as　if　his　soft　felt　hat　had　been　changed　into　a　tightening　crown　of

iron。　　Lifting　his　hand　to　his　head　to　tear　off　its　covering；　he

was　surprised　to　find　that　he　was　wearing　no　hat；　but　that　his

matted　hair；　stiffened　and　dried　with　blood　and　ooze；　was　clinging

like　a　cap　to　his　skull　in　the　hot　morning　sunlight。　　His　eyelids

and　lashes　were　glued　together　and　weighted　down　by　the　same

sanguinary　plaster。　　He　crawled　to　the　edge　of　his　frail　raft；　not

without　difficulty；　for　it　oscillated　and　rocked　strangely；　and

dipped　his　hand　in　the　current。　　When　he　had　cleared　his　eyes　he

lifted　them　with　a　shock　of　amazement。　　Creeks；　banks；　and　plain

had　disappeared；　he　was　alone　on　a　bend　of　the　tossing　bay　of　San

Francisco！



His　first　and　only　sensecleared　by　fasting　and　quickened　by

reactionwas　one　of　infinite　relief。　　He　was　not　only　free　from

the　vague　terrors　of　the　preceding　days　and　nights；　but　his　whole

past　seemed　to　be　lost　and　sunk　forever　in　this　illimitable

expanse。　　The　low　plain　of　Tasajara；　with　its　steadfast　monotony　of

light　and　shadow；　had　sunk　beneath　another　level；　but　one　that

glistened；　sparkled；　was　instinct　with　varying　life；　and　moved　and

even　danced　below　him。　　The　low　palisades　of　regularly　recurring

tules　that　had　fenced　in；　impeded；　but　never　relieved　the　blankness

of　his　horizon；　were　forever　swallowed　up　behind　him。　　All　trail　of

past　degradation；　all　record　of　pain　and　suffering；　all　footprints

of　his　wandering　and　misguided　feet　were　smoothly　wiped　out　in　that

obliterating　sea。　　He　was　physically　helpless；　and　he　felt　it；　he

was　in　danger；　and　he　knew　it；but　he　was　free！



Happily　there　was　but　little　wind　and　the　sea　was　slight。　　The　raft

was　still　intact　so　far　as　he　could　judge；　but　even　in　his

ignorance　he　knew　it　would　scarcely　stand　the　surges　of　the　lower

bay。　　Like　most　Californians　who　had　passed　the　straits　of

Carquinez　at　night　in　a　steamer；　he　did　not　recognize　the　locality；

nor　even　the　distant　peak　of　Tamalpais。　　There　were　a　few　dotting

sails　that　seemed　as　remote；　as　uncertain；　and　as　unfriendly　as　sea

birds。　　The　raft　was　motionless；　almost　as　motionless　as　he　was　in

his　cramped　limbs　and　sun…dried；　stiffened　clothes。　　Too　weak　to

keep　an　upright　position；　without　mast；　stick；　or　oar　to　lift　a

signal　above　that　vast　expanse；　it　seemed　impossible　for　him　to

attract　attention。　　Even　his　pistol　was　gone。



Suddenly；　in　an　attempt　to　raise　himself；　he　was　struck　by　a　flash

so　blinding　that　it　seemed　to　pierce　his　aching　eyes　and　brain　and

turned　him　sick。　　It　appeared　to　come　from　a　crevice　between　the

logs　at　the　further　end　of　the　raft。　　Creeping　painfully　towards　it

he　saw　that　it　was　a　triangular　slip　of　highly　polished　metal　that

he　had　hitherto　overlooked。　　He　did　not　know　that　it　was　a

〃flashing〃　mirror　used　in　top