by Bret Harte
CHAPTER IV.
MR. HAMLIN IS OFF WITH AN OLD LOVE.
Mr. Jack Hamlin did not lose much time on the road from Wingdam toSacramento. His rapid driving, his dust bespattered vehicle, and theexhausted condition of his horse on arrival, excited but little commentfrom those who knew his habits, and for other criticism he had a supremeindifference. He was prudent enough, however, to leave his horse at astable on the outskirts, and having reconstructed his toilet at aneighbouring hotel, he walked briskly toward the address given him byMaxwell. When he reached the corner of the street and was within a fewpaces of the massive shining door plate of Madame Eclair's _Pensionnat_,he stopped with a sudden ejaculation, and after a moment's hesitation,turned on his heel deliberately and began to retrace his steps.
To explain Mr. Hamlin's singular conduct I shall be obliged to disclosea secret of his, which I would fain keep from the fair reader. Onreceiving Olly's address from Maxwell, Mr. Hamlin had only cursorilyglanced at it, and it was only on arriving before the house that herecognised to his horror that it was a boarding-school, with one ofwhose impulsive inmates he had whiled away his idleness a few monthsbefore in a heart-breaking but innocent flirtation, and a soul-subduingbut clandestine correspondence, much to the distaste of the correctPrincipal. To have presented himself there in his proper person would beto have been refused admittance or subjected to a suspicion that wouldhave kept Olly from his hands. For once, Mr. Hamlin severely regrettedhis infelix reputation among the sex. But he did not turn his back onhis enterprise. He retraced his steps only to the main street, visited abarber's shop and a jeweller's, and reappeared on the street again witha pair of enormous green goggles and all traces of his longdistinguishing silken black moustache shaven from his lip. When it isremembered that this rascal was somewhat vain of his personalappearance, the reader will appreciate his earnestness and the extent ofhis sacrifice.
Nevertheless, he was a little nervous as he was ushered into the formalreception-room of the _Pensionnat_, and waited until his credentials,countersigned by Maxwell, were submitted to Madame Eclair. Mr. Hamlinhad no fear of being detected by his real name; in the brief halcyondays of his romance he had been known as Clarence Spifflington,--aningenious combination of the sentimental and humorous which suited hisfancy, and to some extent he felt expressed the character of hisaffection. Fate was propitious; the servant returned saying that MissConroy would be down in a moment, and Mr. Hamlin looked at his watch.Every moment was precious; he was beginning to get impatient when thedoor opened again and Olly slipped into the room.
She was a pretty child, with a peculiar boyish frankness of glance andmanner, and a refinement of feature that fascinated Mr. Hamlin, who,fond as he was of all childhood, had certain masculine preferences forgood looks. She seemed to be struggling with a desire to laugh when sheentered, and when Jack turned towards her with extended hands she heldup her own warningly, and closing the door behind her cautiously, said,in a demure whisper--
"She'll come down as soon as she can slip past Madame's door."
"Who?" asked Jack.
"Sophy."
"Who's Sophy?" asked Jack, seriously. He had never known the name of hisDulcinea. In the dim epistolatory region of sentiment she had existedonly as "The Blue Moselle," so called from the cerulean hue of herfavourite raiment, and occasionally, in moments of familiar endearment,as "Mosey."
"Come, now, pretend you don't know, will you?" said Olly, evading thekiss which Jack always had ready for childhood. "If I was her, Iwouldn't have anything to say to you after that!" she added, with thatostentatious chivalry of the sex towards each other, in the presence oftheir common enemy. "Why, she saw you from the window when you firstcame this morning, when you went back again and shaved off yourmoustache; she knew you. And you don't know her! It's mean, ain'tit?--they'll grow again, won't they?"--Miss Olly referred to themustachios and not the affections!
Jack was astonished and alarmed. In his anxiety to evade or placate theduenna, he had never thought of her charge--his sweetheart. Here was adilemma! "Oh yes!" said Jack hastily, with a well simulated expressionof arch affection, "Sophy--of course--that's my little game! But I'vegot a note for you too, my dear," and he handed Olly the few lines thatGabriel had hastily scrawled. He watched her keenly, almostbreathlessly, as she read them. To his utter bewilderment she laid thenote down indifferently and said, "That's like Gabe--the old simpleton!"
"But you're goin' to do what he says," asked Mr. Hamlin, "ain't you?"
"No," said Olly, promptly, "I ain't! Why, Lord! Mr. Hamlin, you don'tknow that man; why, he does this sort o' thing every week!" PerceivingJack stare, she went on, "Why, only last week, didn't he send to me tomeet him out on the corner of the street, and he my own brother, insteado' comin' here, ez he hez a right to do. Go to him at Wingdam? No! ketchme!"
"But suppose he can't come," continued Mr. Hamlin.
"Why can't he come? I tell you, it's just foolishness and the meanestkind o' bashfulness. Jes because there happened to be a young lady herefrom San Francisco, Rosey Ringround, who was a little took with the oldfool. If he could come to Wingdam, why couldn't he come here,--that'swhat I want to know?"
"Will you let me see that note?" asked Hamlin.
Olly handed him the note, with the remark, "He don't spell well--and hewon't let me teach him--the old Muggins!"
Hamlin took it and read as follows:--
"DEAR OLLY,--If it don't run a fowl uv yer lessings and the Maddam's willin' and the young laddies, Brother Gab's waitin' fer ye at Wingdam, so no more from your affeshtunate brother, GAB."
Mr. Hamlin was in a quandary. It never had been part of his plan to letOlly know the importance of her journey. Mr. Maxwell's injunctions tobring her "quietly," his own fears of an outburst that might bring aquestioning and sympathetic school about his ears, and lastly, and notthe least potently, his own desire to enjoy Olly's company in the longride to One Horse Gulch without the preoccupation of grief, with his owncomfortable conviction that he could eventually bring Gabriel out ofthis "fix" without Olly knowing anything about it, all this forbade histelling her the truth. But here was a coil he had not thought of.Howbeit, Mr. Hamlin was quick at expedients.
"Then you think Sophy can see me," he added, with a sudden interest.
"Of course she will!" said Olly, archly. "It was right smart in you toget acquainted with Gabe and set him up to writing that, though it'sjust like him. He's that soft that anybody could get round him. Butthere she is now, Mr. Hamlin; that's her step on the stairs. And Idon't suppose you two hez any need of me now."
And she slipped out of the room, as demurely as she had entered, at thesame moment that a tall, slim, and somewhat sensational young lady inblue came flying in.
I can, in justice to Mr. Hamlin, whose secrets have been perhapsneedlessly violated in the progress of this story, do no less than passover as sacred, and perhaps wholly irrelevant to the issue, theinterview that took place between himself and Miss Sophy. That hesucceeded in convincing that young woman of his unaltered loyalty, thathe explained his long silence as the result of a torturing doubt of thepermanence of her own affection, that his presence at that moment wasthe successful culmination of a long-matured and desperate plan to seeher once more and learn the truth from her own lips, I am sure that nomember of my own disgraceful sex will question, and I trust no member ofa too fond and confiding sex will doubt. That some bitterness was feltby Mr. Hamlin, who was conscious of certain irregularities during thislong interval, and some tears shed by Miss Sophy, who was equallyconscious of more or less aberration of her own magnetic instinctsduring his absence, I think will be self-evident to the largelycomprehending reader. Howbeit, at the end of ten tender yettranquillising minutes Mr. Hamlin remarked, in low thrilling tones--
"By the aid of a few confiding friends, and playin' it rather low onthem, I got that note to the Conroy girl, but the game's up, and wemight as well pass in our checks now, if she goes back on us, and passesout, which I reckon
's her little game. If what you say is true, Sophy,and you do sometimes look back to the past, and things is generally onthe square, you'll go for that Olly and fetch her, for if I go backwithout that child, and throw up my hand, it's just tampering with theholiest affections and playing it mighty rough on as white a man as everyou saw, Sophy, to say nothing of your reputation, and everybody readyto buck agin us who has ten cents to chip in on. You must make her goback with me and put things on a specie basis."
In spite of the mixed character of Mr. Hamlin's metaphor, his eloquencewas so convincing and effective that Miss Sophy at once proceeded withconsiderable indignation to insist upon Olly's withdrawing her refusal.
"If this is the way you are going to act, you horrid little thing! afterall that me and him's trusted you, I'd like to see the girl in schoolthat will ever tell _you_ anything again, that's all!" a threat soappalling that Olly, who did not stop to consider that this confidencewas very recent and had been forced upon her, assented without furtherdelay, exhibited Gabriel's letter to Madame Eclair, and having receivedthat lady's gracious permission to visit her brother, was in half anhour in company with Mr. Hamlin on the road.
