A great deal of trouble and anxiety had preceded the receipt of thatmessage. First he had written her a letter that was unusually long andexuberant for him, telling her of his success and that now he was ready tocome and get her in accordance with their agreement, suggesting a time andplace. Three days of cumulative doubt and agony had gone by without areply. Then he had tried to reach her by long distance telephone, butwithout success. Finally he had wired, although he knew that a telegram isa risky vehicle for confidential business. Now he had her answer, theanswer that he wanted. His spirit was released and leapt forward, leavingresentments and doubts far behind.
It was eighty miles to the state capital, the road was good all the way,the day bright and cool. His route lead across the _mesa_, through theScissors Pass, and then north and east along the foot of the mountains.
Immense and empty the country stretched before him--a land of far-flunglevels and even farther mountains; a land which makes even the sea, withits near horizons, seem little; a land which has always produced men ofdaring because it inspires a sense of freedom without any limit save whatdaring sets.
He had dared and won. He was going to take the sweet price of his daring.The engine of his big car sang to him a song of victory and desire. Herejoiced in the sense of power under his hand. He opened the throttlewider and the car answered with more speed, licking up the road like ahungry monster. How easily he mastered time and distance for his purpose!
He was to have her, she would be his. So sang the humming motor and thewind in his ears. Her white arms and her red mouth, her splendid eyes thatfeared and yielded! She was waiting for him! More speed. He conquered thehills with a roar of strength to spare, topped the crests, and sped downthe long slopes like a bird coming to earth.
He was to have her, she would be his. Could it be true? The great machinethat carried him to their tryst roared an affirmative, the wind sang ofit, his blood quickened with anticipation incredibly keen. And always thedistance that lay between them was falling behind in long, grey passivemiles.
He had reached his destination a little after six. As he drove slowlythrough the streets of the little dusty town, the mood of exaltation thathad possessed him during the trip died down. He was intent, worriedpractical. Having registered at the hotel, he got a handful of time tablesand made his plans with care. They would drive to a town twenty-five milesaway, be married, and catch the California Limited. There would just betime. Once he had her in his car, nothing could stop them.
The _plaza_ or public square about which the old town was built, and whichhad been its market place in the old days, was now occupied by a neatlittle park with a band stand. Retail stores and banks fronted on threesides of it, but the fourth was occupied by a long low _adobe_ buildingwhich was very old and had been converted into a museum of localantiquities. It was dark and lifeless at night, and in its shadow-filledverandah he was to meet her.
He had his car parked beside the spot ten minutes ahead of time. It wasslightly cold now, with a gusty wind whispering about the streets andtearing big papery leaves from the cottonwood trees in the park. The_plaza_ was empty save for an occasional passer-by whose quick footfallsrang sharply in the silence. Here and there was an illuminated shopwindow. The drug store on the opposite corner showed a bright interior,where two small boys devoured ice cream sodas with solemn rapture.Somewhere up a side street a choir was practising a hymn, making a noiseinfinitely doleful.
He had a bear-skin to wrap her in, and he arranged this on the seat besidehim and then tried to wait patiently. He sat very tense and motionless,except for an occasional glance at his watch, until it showed exactlyseven-thirty. Then he got out of his car and began walking first to oneside of the corner and then to the other, for he did not know from whichdirection she would come. At twenty-five minutes of eight he was angry,but in another ten minutes anger had given way to a dull heavydisappointment that seemed to hold him by the throat and make it difficultto swallow. None-the-less he waited a full hour before he started up hiscar and drove slowly back to the hotel.
On the way he debated with himself whether he should try to communicatewith her tonight or wait until the next day. He knew that the wisest thingwould be to wait until the next day and send her a note, but he also knewthat he could not wait. He would find out where she lived, call her on thetelephone, and learn what had prevented her from keeping the appointment.He had desperate need to know that something besides her own will had kepther away.
When he went to the hotel desk, a clerk handed him a letter.
"This was here when you registered, I think," he said. "But I didn't knowit. I'm sorry."
When he saw the handwriting of the address he was filled with commotion.Here, then, was her explanation. This would tell him why she had failedhim. This, in all probability, would make all right.
He went to his room to read it, sat down on the edge of the bed and rippedthe envelope open with an impatient finger. The letter was dated two daysearlier--the day after she had received his telegram.
"I don't know what to say," she wrote, "but it doesn't matter much. Youwill despise me anyway, and I despise myself. But I can't help it--honestlyI can't. I meant to keep my promise and I would have kept it, but theyfound your telegram and mother read it--by mistake, of course. I ought tohave had sense enough to burn it. You can't imagine how awful it has been.Mother said the most terrible things about you, things she had heard. Andshe said that I would be ruining my life and hers. I said I didn't care,because I loved you. I can't tell you what an awful quarrel we had! And Iwouldn't have given in, but she told Gordon and he was so terribly angry.He said it was a disgrace to the family, and he began to cough and had ahemorrhage and we thought he was going to die. Mother said he probablywould die unless I gave you up.
"That finished me. I couldn't do anything after that--I just couldn't.There was nothing but misery in sight either way, so what was the use?I've lost all my courage and all my doubts have come back. I do loveyou--terribly. But you are so strange, so different. And I don't think wewould have gotten along or anything. I try to comfort myself by thinkingit's all for the best, but it doesn't really comfort me at all. I neverknew people could be as miserable as I am now. I don't think its fair.
"When you get this I will be on my way to New York and nearly there. Weare going to sail for Europe immediately. I will never see you again. Iwill always love you.
"Julia."
The Blood of the Conquerors Page 28
