The Essential Elinor Glyn Collection. Glyn Elinor
I felt faint and can't remember any more.
I don't suppose I could have been stupid for more than five minutes, but when I came to, Octavia was there with a quilt pinned over her nightgown, and she and the Senator were bathing my shoulder, and even that little cut hurt rather and I fear will leave a deep scar.
The poor secretary had his ankle broken, but otherwise was unhurt, and nobody minded at all about the man Nelson had killed. They only wished he had exterminated more of them. And Tom and the Vicomte are having the time of their lives, for as soon as dawn broke they joined the Sheriff with a posse, aided by the state police in pursuit of the escaped desperadoes, and as the _Moonbeams Chronicle_ prints it today, "A general round up of bad men is in progress."
Fancy us having the luck to come in for all this, Mamma, and to see the real thing! The Senator had only been joking, he said, when he had promised us that, as all this sort of excitement is a thing of the past in camps, which are generally perfectly orderly now; and he thought by making us go to bed he was causing us to avoid seeing even a little quarrelling in the streets.
None of the dear real miners would have touched us, and by some strange chance not one of the men of our party had heard that the famous desperadoes were arrived in the town. They will all be lynched if they are caught, of course, so I can't help rather hoping they will get away. Perhaps it would be a lesson to them, and I hate to think of any more people being killed. But, of course, if Nelson had not had the nerve to fire, just like William Tell, the man would have blown my brains out, and as you know, Mamma, I have always despised mawkish sentiment, and I would rather he was dead than me, so I shan't let myself think a thing more about it, only to be deeply and profoundly grateful to Nelson for saving my life.
We are going back to Osages this afternoon, and now I must stop, dearest Mamma.
Your affectionate daughter,
ELIZABETH.
ON THE PRIVATE CAR AGAIN
_On the private car again._
DEAREST MAMMA,--I am writing again today because I thought that perhaps my yesterday's letter might have worried you, and there is nothing in the least to mind about. My shoulder will soon heal, and I shall always feel proud of the scar. It is plastered up and does not hurt much, so don't be the smallest degree anxious. The hotel proprietor and some handy miners who could do carpentering came up while we were away at breakfast, and mended the doors, and everyone laughed and pretended nothing had happened; only Nelson had rather a set face, and after breakfast we climbed up on the steep mountain behind the hotel and watched the world. He never spoke, only helped me over the rough places, until we got high up above the last tent, and there we sat on a crag and looked down at the camp. And I think he is the finest character of a man I have ever known. It is only to you, Mamma, I would tell all this, because you will understand.
It was so hot he had no coat on, only his flannel shirt, and his trousers tucked into his long boots, and the grim gun stuck in his belt. He looked extremely attractive with that felt hat slouched over his eyes. He seemed to be gazing into distance as if alone, and then, after a while, he turned and looked at me, and his eyes were full of pain like a tortured animal, and I felt a wrench at my heart. Then he clasped his hands tight together as though he were afraid he should take mine, and he said the dearest things a man could say to a woman--how the stress of the situation last night had forced from him an avowal of his love for me. "I never meant to tell you, my sweet lady," he said. "I am no weakling, I hope, to go snivelling over what is not for me; and when I comprehended you were married, on the Lusitania, I just faced up the situation and vowed I'd be a strong man."
Then he paused a moment as if his throat were dry: "No one can control his emotion of love for a woman," he went on; "the sentiment he feels, I mean, but the strong man controls the demonstration." He looked away again, and his face was set like bronze. "I love you better than anything on God's earth," he said, "and I want to tell you all the truth, so that you won't feel you can't trust me, or when, if ever I should chance to meet your husband, I can't look him straight in the face. I love you, but I never mean to bother you or do anything in the world but be your best friend." "Indeed, indeed, yes," I said, and I told him how dreadfully sorry I was if I had hurt him, and how noble and brave he seemed to me.
"You are my star," he said, "and I am going to crush this pain out of my heart, and make it just a glad thing that I've known you, and something to remember always; so don't you feel sorry, my lady, dear. It was not your fault. It was nobody's fault--just fate. And we out in this desert country learn to size up a situation and face it out. But I don't want you to go away from this happy party of ours with an ache in your tender heart, thinking I am a weakling and going to cry by myself in a corner; I am not. Nothing's going to be changed, and you can count till death on Nelson Renour."
I don't know what I said, Mamma, I was so profoundly touched. What a noble gentleman; how miles and miles above the puny Europeans, setting snares for every married woman's heart, if she is anything which attracts them. Suddenly all the men I know seemed to turn into little paltry dolls, and Harry with his dear blue eyes flashing at me seemed to be the only reality, except this splendid Western hero; and a great lump came in my throat, and I could not speak. Then he took my hand and kissed it. "We're through with all our sad talk, my Lady Elizabeth," he said, the kindest smile in his faithful eyes, "and now I am going to show you I can keep my word, and not be a bleating lambkin."
We came down the mountain after that, and he told me just interesting things about the camp, and the life, and the wonderful quantities of gold there. And when we got into the restaurant tent where we were to meet the others for lunch, Tom and the Vicomte and the rest had returned after a fruitless search for desperadoes, and underneath I am glad they have got away after all.
The journey back to Hot Creek was too divinely beautiful, in spite of two broken tyres which delayed us. The view this way is indescribably grand and vast--the sunset a pale magenta turning into crimson, and the sky a blue turning to green, the desert grey, and the mountains beyond deepest violet turning to sapphire and peacock blue. Does not it sound as if I were romancing, Mamma! But it was really so, and luminous and clear, so that we could see perhaps a hundred miles, all a vast sea of sage brush. The Senator sat by me this time, and Octavia, while Nelson went in front with the chauffeur, and the Senator held my arm and kept my sore shoulder from getting shaken; and he seemed such a comfort and so strong, and he asked us if we had enjoyed our trip in spite of the catastrophe last night, and we both said we had, and all the more on account of it, because it was lovely seeing the real thing. And he said it was a chance in a thousand, as all the camps were so orderly now, not as in Bret Harte, or as it was in his young days. And he said both Octavia and I would make splendid miners' wives not to be squeamish or silly over the "carrion" that was shot, and not to have trembling nerves today. We felt so pleased, and only that underneath I can't help being sad about Nelson, we should all have been very gay. It was about nine o'clock when we reached the car and Marcus Aurelius's welcoming smiles, and an appetising supper. And now I am writing to you to post where we stop in the morning. We only stay one day in Osages and then go on our way to the tarpons at last, and the joys of Mexico. It has been all more than delightful, and I do hope the Americans like us as much as we like them; from East to here we have received nothing but exquisite courtesy and kindness, and I can never tell you what a grand and open and splendid nation they are, Mamma, or how little understood in Europe. All their faults are the faults of youth, as I said before; and everyone will admit youth is a gift of the gods.
Now, good-night, dearest Mamma.
Fond love to all,
From your affectionate daughter,
ELIZABETH.
_Morning_.
P.S.--The Senator's mail caught us up at the only station we passed, and in the packets of letters for everyone was another from Jane Roose for me saying more odious insinuations about Mrs. Smith and Harry. I feel perfectly sick, Mamma, and I shan't be good any more. I will never speak to him again, and shall just divorce him, become a naturalized American and marry some lovely millionaire.