And here was Miss Mayfield,who was clearly derelict,and who should have acted under that conviction,walking along on the other side of the road,trailing the splendor of her parasol in the dust like an offended goddess.
They had almost reached the house."At what time do you go,Mr.
Briggs?"asked the young lady quietly.
"At eleven to-night,by the up stage."
"I expect some friends by that stage--coming with my father.""My aunt will take good care of them,"said Jeff,a little bitterly.
"I have no doubt,"responded Miss Mayfield gravely;"but I was not thinking of that.I had hoped to introduce them to you to-morrow.
But I shall not be up so late to-night.And I had better say good-by to you now."She extended the unkissed hand.Jeff took it,but presently let the limp fingers fall through his own.
"I wish you good fortune,Mr.Briggs."
She made a grave little bow,and vanished into the house.But here,I regret to say,her lady-like calm also vanished.She upbraided her mother peevishly for obliging her to seek the escort of Mr.Briggs in her necessary exercise,and flung herself with an injured air upon the sofa.
"But I thought you liked this Mr.Briggs.He seems an accommodating sort of person.""Very accommodating.Going away just as we are expecting company!""Going away?"said Mrs.Mayfield in alarm."Surely he must be told that we expect some preparation for our friends?""Oh,"said Miss Mayfield quickly,"his aunt will arrange THAT."Mrs.Mayfield,habitually mystified at her daughter's moods,said no more.She,however,fulfilled her duty conscientiously by rising,throwing a wrap over the young girl,tucking it in at her feet,and having,as it were,drawn a charitable veil over her peculiarities,left her alone.
At half past ten the coach dashed up to the "Half-way House,"with a flash of lights and a burst of cheery voices.Jeff,coming upon the porch,was met by Mr.Mayfield,accompanying a lady and two gentlemen,--evidently the guests alluded to by his daughter.
Accustomed as Jeff had become to Mr.Mayfield's patronizing superiority,it seemed unbearable now,and the easy indifference of the guests to his own presence touched him with a new bitterness.
Here were HER friends,who were to take his place.It was a relief to grasp Yuba Bill's large hand and stand with him alone beside the bar.
"I'm ready to go with you to-night,Bill,"said Jeff,after a pause.
Bill put down his glass--a sign of absorbing interest.
"And these yar strangers I fetched?"
"Aunty will take care of them.I've fixed everything."Bill laid both his powerful hands on Jeff's shoulders,backed him against the wall,and surveyed him with great gravity.
"Briggs's son clar through!A little off color,but the grit all thar!Bully for you,Jeff."He wrung Jeff's hand between his own.
"Bill!"said Jeff hesitatingly.
"Jeff!"
"You wouldn't mind my getting up on the box NOW,before all the folks get round?""I reckon not.Thar's the box-seat all ready for ye."Climbing to his high perch,Jeff,indistinguishable in the darkness,looked out upon the porch and the moving figures of the passengers,on Bill growling out his orders to his active hostler,and on the twinkling lights of the hotel windows.In the mystery of the night and the bitterness of his heart,everything looked strange.There was a light in Miss Mayfield's room,but the curtains were drawn.Once he thought they moved,but then,fearful of the fascination of watching them,he turned his face resolutely away.
Then,to his relief,the hour came;the passengers re-entered the coach;Bill had mounted the box,and was slowly gathering his reins,when a shrill voice rose from the porch.
"Oh,Jeff!"
Jeff leaned an anxious face out over the coach lamps.
It was Aunt Sally,breathless and on tiptoe,reaching with a letter."Suthin'you forgot!"Then,in a hoarse stage whisper,perfectly audible to every one:"From HER!"Jeff seized the letter with a burning face.The whip snapped,and the stage plunged forward into the darkness.Presently Yuba Bill reached down,coolly detached one of the coach lamps,and handed it to Jeff without a word.
Jeff tore open the envelope.It contained Cyrus Parker's bill receipted,and the writ.Another small inclosure contained ten dollars,and a few lines written in pencil in a large masculine business hand.By the light of the lamp Jeff read as follows:--"I hope you will forgive me for having tried to help you even in this accidental way,before I knew how strong were your objections to help from me.Nobody knows this but myself.Even Mr.Dodd thinks my father advanced the money.The ten dollars the rascal would have kept,but I made him disgorge it.I did it all while you were looking for the letter in the woods.Pray forget all about it,and any pain you may have had from J.M."Frank and practical as this letter appeared to be,and,doubtless,as it was intended to be by its writer,the reader will not fail to notice that Miss Mayfield said nothing of having overheard Jeff's quarrel with the deputy,and left him to infer that that functionary had betrayed him.It was simply one of those unpleasant details not affecting the result,usually overlooked in feminine ethics.
