Jeff Briggs's Love Story

by Bret Harte

or, better, the padrone--Wilson! But the padrone, Wilson,called out by the tumult, appeared in person--a handsome, resolute,middle-aged man, who, in a twinkling, dispersed the group to barn andstable with a dozen orders of preparation, and then turned to Jeff.

  "You are hurt; come in."

  Jeff followed him dazedly into the house. The same sense of remoteabstraction, of vague dreaminess, was overcoming him. He resented it,and fought against it, but in vain; he was only half conscious that hishost had bathed his head and given him some slight restorative, had saidsomething to him soothingly, and had left him. Jeff wondered if he hadfainted, or was about to faint,--he had a nervous dread of that womanishweakness,--or if he were really hurt worse than he believed. He tried tomaster himself and grasp the situation by minutely examining the room.It was luxuriously furnished; Jeff had but once before sat in such anarm-chair as the one that half embraced him, and as a boy he had dimrecollections of a life like this, of which his father was part. Topoor Jeff, with his throbbing head, his smarting hands, and his lapsingmoments of half forgetfulness, this seemed to be a return of his oldpremonition. There was a vague perfume in the room, like that which heremembered when he was in the woods with Miss Mayfield. He believed hewas growing faint again, and was about to rise, when the door openedbehind him.

  "Is there anything we can do for you? Mr. Wilson has gone to seek yourfriend, and has sent Manuel for a doctor."

  HER voice! He rose hurriedly, turned; SHE was standing in the doorway!

  She uttered a slight cry, turned very pale, advanced towards him,stopped and leaned against the chimney-piece.

  "I didn't know it was YOU."

  With her actual presence Jeff's dream and weakness fled. He rose upbefore her, his old bashful, stammering, awkward self.

  "I didn't know YOU lived here, Miss Mayfield."

  "If you had sent word you were coming," said Miss Mayfield, recoveringher color brightly in one cheek.

  The possibility of having sent a messenger in advance to advise MissMayfield of his projected visit did not strike Jeff as ridiculous.Your true lover is far beyond such trivialities. He accepted the rebukemeekly. He said he was sorry.

  "You might have known it."

  "What, Miss Mayfield?"

  "That I was here, if you WISHED to know."

  Jeff did not reply. He bowed his head and clasped his burned handstogether. Miss Mayfield saw their raw surfaces, saw the ugly cut on hishead, pitied him, but went on hastily, with both cheeks burning, to say,womanlike, what was then deepest in her heart:

  "My brother-in-law told me your adventure; but I did not know until Ientered this room that the gentleman I wished to help was one who hadonce rejected my assistance, who had misunderstood me, and cruellyinsulted me! Oh, forgive me, Mr. Briggs" (Jeff had risen). "I did notmean THAT. But, Mr. Jeff--Jeff--oh!" (She had caught his tortured handand had wrung a movement of pain from him.) "Oh, dear! what did I donow? But Mr. Jeff, after what has passed, after what you said to me whenyou went away, when you were at that dreadful place, Campville, when youwere two months in Sacramento, you might--YOU OUGHT TO HAVE LET ME KNOWIT!"

  Jeff turned. Her face, more beautiful than he had ever seen it, aliveand eloquent with every thought that her woman's speech but halfexpressed, was very near his--so near, that under her honest eyes thewretched scales fell from his own, his self-wrought shackles crumbledaway, and he dropped upon his knees at her feet as she sank into thechair he had quitted. Both his hands were grasped in her own.

  "YOU went away, and I STAYED," she said reflectively.

  "I had no home, Miss Mayfield."

  "Nor had I. I had to buy this," she said, with a delicious simplicity;"and bring a family here too," she added, "in case YOU"--she stopped,with a slight color.

  "Forgive me," said Jeff, burying his face in her hands.

  "Jeff."

  "Jessie."

  "Don't you think you were a LITTLE--just a little--mean?"

  "Yes."

  Miss Mayfield uttered a faint sigh. He looked into her anxious cheeksand eyes, his arm stole round her; their lips met for the first time inone long lingering kiss. Then, I fear, for the second time.

  "Jeff," said Miss Mayfield, suddenly becoming practical and sweetlypossessory, "you must have your hands bound up in cotton."

  "Yes," said Jeff cheerfully.

  "And you must go instantly to bed."

  Jeff stared.

  "Because my sister will think it very late for me to be sitting up witha gentleman."

  The idea that Miss Mayfield was responsible to anybody was something newto Jeff. But he said hastily, "I must stay and wait for Bill. He riskedhis life for me."

  "Oh, yes! You must tell me all about it. I may wait for THAT!"

  Jeff possessed himself of the chair; in some way he also possessedhimself of Miss Mayfield without entirely dispossessing her. Then hetold his story. He hesitated over the episode of the blacksmith. "I'mafraid I killed him, Jessie."

  Miss Mayfield betrayed little concern at this possible extreme measurewith a dangerous neighbor. "He cut your head, Jeff," she said, passingher little hand through his curls.

  "No," said Jeff hastily, "that must have been done BEFORE."

  "Well," said Miss Mayfield conclusively, "he would if he'd dared. Andyou brought off that wretched money in spite of him. Poor dear Jeff."

  "Yes," said Jeff, kissing her.

  "Where is it?" asked Jessie, looking round the room.

  "Oh, just out there!"

  "Out where?"

  "On my horse, you know, outside the door," continued Jeff, a littleuneasily, as he rose. "I'll go and--"

  "You careless boy," said Miss Mayfield, jumping up, "I'll go with you."

  They passed out on the porch together, holding each other's hands, likechildren. The forgotten Rabbit was not there. Miss Mayfield called avaquero.

  "Ah, yes!--the caballero's horse. Of a certainty the other caballero hadtaken it!"

  "The other caballero!" gasped Jeff.

  "Si, senor. The one who arrived with you, or a moment, the very nextmoment, after you. 'Your friend,' he said."

  Jeff staggered against the porch, and cast one despairing reproachfullook at Miss Mayfield.

  "Oh, Jeff! Jeff! don't look so. I know I ought not to have kept you!It's a mistake, Jeff, believe me."

  "It's no mistake," said Jeff hoarsely. "Go!" he said, turning tothe vaquero, "go!--bring--" But his speech failed. He attempted togesticulate with his hands, ran forward a few steps, staggered, and fellfainting on the ground.

  "Help me with the caballero into the blue room," said Miss Mayfield,white as Jeff. "And hark ye, Manuel! You know every ruffian, man orwoman, on this road. That horse and those saddle-bags must be hereto-morrow, if you have to pay DOUBLE WHAT THEY'RE WORTH!"

  "Si, senora."

  Jeff went off into fever, into delirium, into helpless stupor. Fromtime to time he moaned "Bill" and "the treasure." On the third day, in alucid interval, as he lay staring at the wall, Miss Mayfield put inhis hand a letter from the company, acknowledging the receipt of thetreasure, thanking him for his zeal, and inclosing a handsome check.

  Jeff sat up, and put his hands to his head.

  "I told you it was taken by mistake, and was easily found," said MissMayfield, "didn't I?"

  "Yes,--and Bill?"

  "You know he is so much better that he expects to leave us next week."

  "And--Jessie!"

  "There--go to sleep!"

  At the end of a week she introduced Jeff to her sister-in-law, havingpreviously run her fingers through his hair to insure that becomingnessto his curls which would better indicate his moral character; and spokeof him as one of her oldest Californian friends.

  At the end of two weeks she again presented him as her affiancedhusband--a long engagement of a year being just passed. Mr. Wilson, whowas bored by the mountain life, undertaken to please his rich wife andricher sister, saw a chance of escape here, and bore willing testimonyto the distant Mr. and Mrs
. Mayfield of the excellence of Miss Jessie'schoice. And Yuba Bill was Jeff's best man.

  The name of Briggs remained a power in Tuolumne and CalaverasCounty. Mr. and Mrs. Briggs never had but one word of disagreement ordiscussion. One day, Jeff, looking over some old accounts of his wife's,found an unreceipted, unvouched for expenditure of twenty thousanddollars. "What is this for, Jessie?" he asked.

  "Oh, it's all right, Jeff!"

  But here the now business-like and practical Mr. Briggs, father of afamily, felt called upon to make some general remarks regarding thenecessity of exactitude