Jessica, the Heiress. Raymond Evelyn
rose so hastily that the dish upon her lap slid to the floor, and the other laughed:
“There, Gabriel, you do beat all. If I’d dropped that dish ’twould have upset, and every slice of citron in it rolled whithrety-yonder. But for you––it knew better; just slipped off as slick as could be, landed right side up, and not a morsel scattered. Seem’s if dirt nor nothin’ disorderly ever could come a-nigh you, honey.”
Mrs. Trent did not even hear. Upon her face had grown a look that hurt Aunt Sally to see; the more because the feeling it expressed was continually increasing within her own heart.
Where could Jessica be? Many hours had passed since she vanished from the laundry window, and if she had gone upon any errand for her “boys,” she would have returned long since. Also, she would be swift to restore the missing clothes of the little boys, as soon as found, for she knew they would be prisoners within doors till she had done so.
“Don’t you worry, I tell you, Gabriella. I’ll take the great horn and blow a blast will fetch the whole kerboodle back here, hot foot. If that don’t, I’ll ring the mission bell! That’ll mean trouble, sure 28 enough, and its dreadful racket’ll reach clear to Los Angeles, ’pears.”
The mother crossed to the lattice and leaned against its post. Something was wrong with her darling. She knew that as well as if she had been told so by word of mouth, and a dreadful numbness stole over her whole frame. As if in a dream, she saw Aunt Sally emerge from the lean-to, where the great horn was kept, and raised the thing to her lips; but the blast which followed seemed to have been ringing in her ears forever. The silence that succeeded lasted but a moment, yet was like an eternity. Then from one direction, and another, came the ranchmen, understanding that there was need of their presence at the “house,” and each quickly catching something of the fear so plainly depicted upon the faces of the waiting women.
“John Benton, where’s ‘Lady Jess’?” demanded Aunt Sally, with terrible sternness.
“Why, mother, how should I know? I was off to the lemon house early, fixing some shelves. I haven’t seen her to-day and it makes it a long one.”
Came “Marty” from his garden, a hoe over one shoulder and a mighty vine of ripened tomatoes over the other, exclaiming:
“How’s this for a second year’s growth? I thought you’d like ’em for catsup, Aunt Sally, and what’s the horn for?”
“George Ceomarty, where’s the ‘captain’?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t! You don’t!” indignantly.
“No. How should I? Last I saw, she was sitting the porch along with you. You needn’t glare at me so, but say yourself: ‘Where’s the “captain”?’ ”
29
“Come, gardener, this ain’t a time for foolin’.”
He disdained to answer, reading the anxiety upon his mistress’ face, and feeling an unaccountable one growing in his own mind.
It was a relief to all when the figure of Sailor Samson came into view, making for the cottage with those firm strides of his, that seemed to cover the distance with incredible speed. He was always to be depended upon in an emergency, and there was good cheer in his tones, as, having been asked the same question which had greeted his mates, he tossed back the light answer:
“Why, I don’t know just at this minute, but I’ll wager wherever she is, she’s doing good to somebody, or finishing up some fellow’s neglected job. Why? Ain’t scared of ‘Lady Jess,’ are you?”
“That’s just what we are, herder. She’s no hand to run off an’ stay off without tellin’ where to; and if she couldn’t find the children’s clothes she’d been back before now to say so. Somethin’ dreadful has happened to the precious girl, and you needn’t say there hasn’t!” wailed Mrs. Benton; adding in fresh dismay as the ranch mistress quietly sank to the floor in a faint! “There! Now I have done it! Oh! that tongue of mine!”
“Yes, old woman! That tongue of yours’ has wrought a heap of mischief in its day,” cried Samson, angrily, as he lifted the fallen lady and carried her into the house.
But Aunt Sally was quite herself again, and put him coolly aside, while she ministered to the unconscious ranch mistress, and, at the same time, gave him a succinct history of the morning’s events. Everybody at Sobrante knew the deep devotion of Lady Jess to her widowed mother, and the thoughtfulness 30 with which she always sought to prevent her loved one’s “worrying,” and all realized that there might be something seriously amiss in this protracted, unexplained absence. However, and to a certain degree, the child was allowed to be independent, and she was liable to reappear at any moment and to gibe at their “foolish fear” for her. But to summon her, at once, was the surest way of comforting Mrs. Trent, and Samson went out again to distribute the assembled ranchmen into searching parties, with the injunction:
“Don’t scare the ‘captain’ when you find her, but just let her know her mother needs her, and her dinner’s drying up in the oven. Now scatter; and don’t you show a face back here without her in hand!”
“Can’t all of us find her, herder. Ain’t ‘captains’ enough to go ’round,” said a cowboy, with an ill-attempt at playfulness, which was instantly frowned down. For, though all assured themselves that there was no substantial cause for alarm, and that women were “nervous cattle, always scared at shadders,” they had already caught something of this nervousness. Each felt that the best sight for his eyes at that moment would be the gleam of a golden head, and the sweetest music his ears could hear the sound of a young girl’s laughter.
But, alas! Daylight gave place to the sudden night of that region, where no lingering twilight is known; and still over the great ranch there rested the terrible silence which had followed the loss of one merry voice.
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