The Salamanca Corpus: Wandering Heath (1896)

“'Well, sir, we cooled our heels outside there for a spell, but nothing occurred. So at last we made tracks back here to the saloon, owning to ourselves that Flo didn't need to be taught how to receive a surprise party. "But," says I, "you'll have the minister back here before long; and I anticipate he'll ask questions." I'd hardly said the words before the door flung open behind me. It wasn't the youngster, though, but Flo herself; and a flaming rage she was in. "See here, boys," she begins, "this is a dirty game, and you'd better be ashamed of yourselves! I'm ashamed of you, Bill, anyway," she says, tossing me back my letter; and then, turning short round on Huz-and-Buz, "if old Iniquity, here, started the racket, it's nateral to him: he had a decent woman once for his wife, and beat her. But there's others of you oughter know that your same reasons for thinking light of a woman are reasons against driving the joke too hard." "You're right, Flo," says I, "and I beg your pardon." "I dunno that

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I'll grant it," she says. "Lord knows," she says, "it ain't for any of us here to be heaving dirt at each other; but I will say you oughter be feeling mean, the way you've served that young man. Why, boys," she says, opening her eyes wide, like as if 'twas a thing unheard of, "he's good! And oh, boys, he's sick, top!" "Is he so?" I says; "I feel cheap." "You oughter," says she. "What's to be done?" says I. "Well, the first thing," she says, "that you've got to do is to come right along and paint my fence;" then, seeing I looked a bit puzzled—"some of you boys have taken the liberty to write up some pretty free compliments about my premises; and as the most of you was born before spelling-bees came in fashion, I don't want my new boarder to come down to-morrow and form his own opinion about your education." Well, sir, we went off in a party and knocked up old Peter, and got a pot of paint, and titivated No. 67 by the light of a couple of lanterns; and the Bishop —as we came to call him—sleeping the sleep of the just upstairs all the time. Unfortunately, Peter had made a mistake and given us green paint instead of blue, and by that

light none of us could tell the difference; so I guess the Bishop next morning allowed that Miss Montmorency had ideas of her own on "mural decoration," as Huz-and-Buz calls it. When we got the job fixed, Flo steps inside the gate, and says she, looking over it, "Boys, I'm grateful. And now I'm going to play a lone hand, and I look to you not to interfere. Good-night.'' From that day to this, sir, she's kept straight, and held off the drink in a manner you wouldn't credit. The Bishop, he thinks her an angel on earth; and to see them promenading down the sidewalk arm-in-arm of an afternoon is as good as a dime exhibition. I'm bound to own the boys act up. You wait till you see her pass, and the way the hats fly off. Old Huz-and-Buz came pretty near to getting lynched the first week, for playing the smarty and drawling off out as they went by, "Miss Montmorency, I believe?" to imitate the way in which the Bishop introduced himself. I guess he won't be humorous again for a considerable spell. And now, Doctor, I hope I've put the facts straight for you?'

"'You have,' I answered, draining my glass; ' and they do several people credit.'

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“‘So I gather.'

“‘And I'm speaking now in the name of the boys. There was a meeting held just now, while you was dropping your card on the Bishop; and I'm to tell you, as deputy, that trouble ain't to be spared over him. It's a hopeless case; but you hear—trouble ain't to be spared; and the municipality foots the-------'

"'Hold hard, there,' I broke in; and told him how the land lay. When I'd done he held out a huge but well-shaped hand, palm upward.

“‘Put it there,' he said.

'' We shook hands, and walked together (still to the strain of ' Juliana ') as far as the Necropolis gate. I observed that several citizens appeared at the doors of the saloons along our route, and looked inquiringly at Captain Bill, who answered in each case with a wink.

“'That, passes you,' he explained, 'for the freedom of Eucalyptus City, as you'd say at home. When you want it, you've only to come and fetch it—-in a pail. You're among friends.'

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"As I neared the spring on my homeward road I saw Miss Montmorency standing beside the track, awaiting me. She looked decidedly better, and handed me back my handkerchief, almost dry and neatly folded.

“'And how did you find him?' she asked.

"I told her.

“‘We allowed it was that—the boys and I. We allowed he wouldn't last out the fall. Did you meet any of the boys? '

“'I've been having a short drink and a long talk with Captain Bill.'

"She nodded her head, breaking off to clap both palms to her temples.

“‘My! It does ache! I'm powerful glad you seen Bill. Now you know the worst o' me, and we can start fair. I allowed, first along, that I play this hand alone; but now you've got to help. Now and then I catch myself weakening. It's dreadful choky, sitting by the hour filling up that poor innocent with lies. And the eyes of him! ' (she stamped her foot): ' I could whip his father and mother for having no more sense than to let him start. Doctor, you'll have to help.'

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“I rode down to Eucalyptus again next morning and found the Bishop seated and talking with Miss Montmorency in the gaudy little parlor.

“‘And now you'll just have to walk out with the Doctor instead; and serve you right for talking foolishness.' She moved toward the door.

“‘Doctor,' he said, 'I wish you would make her listen. I feel much better to-day —altogether a different man. If this improvement continues, I shall start in a week at the furthest. And I was trying to tell her—Doctor, you can have no notion of her goodness. "I was a stranger and she took me in" '------.

“Miss Montmorency, with her hand on the door, turned sharply round at this, and shot a queer sort of look at me. I thought she was going to speak; but she didn't.

"'Excuse me,' I said to the Bishop, as the door closed, ' but that's your Bible, I take it, on the table yonder. May I have it for a moment? '

“I picked it up and followed Miss Mont-

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morency, whom I found just outside on the landing.

“'I guessed that text had jerked you a bit. No, I haven't given you away. He was talking out of the Bible.' I found the place for her. 'You'd better take it to your room and read the whole passage,' said I, and went back to the parlor.

“‘I have lent your Bible to Miss Montmorency,' I said.

“The Bishop seemed lost in thought, but made no remark until we were outside the house and starting for our short walk. Then he laid a hand on my arm. ' Forgive me,' he said; ' I had no idea you were earnest in these matters.' I was for putting in a disclaimer, but he went on:

“'She has a soul to save—a very precious soul. Mark you, if works could save a soul, hers would be secure. And I have thought sometimes God cannot judge her harshly; for consider of how much value the life of one such woman must be in such a community as this. You should observe how the men respect her. And yet we have the divine assurance that works without

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“‘But why,' I urged, ' go farther, when work like this lies at your hand? '

“'I have thought of that; but only for a moment. It may sound presumptuous to you; I am very young; but there is bigger work for me ahead, and I am called. I cannot argue about this. I know. I have a sign. Look up at the mountain yonder-high up, above the quicksilver mines. Do you see those bright lights flashing? '

“Sure enough, above the disused works a line of sparkling lights led the eye upward to the snowfields, as if traced in diamonds. The phenomenon was certainly astonishing, and I couldn't account for it.

"'You see it? Ah! but you didn't observe it till I spoke. Nobody does. Miss

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from it. I've asked many people, and there's not one can explain it, or has ever remarked it till I pointed it out.'

“His hand trembled on his stick, and a fit of coughing shook him. While we stood still I heard a banjo in a saloon across the road tinkle its long descent into the chorus of ' Juliana'—

“‘Was it weary there In the wilderness? Was it weary-y-y, 'way down in Goshen?'

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The chorus came roaring out and across the street; ceased; and the banjo slid into the next verse.

“‘It's a weariful tune.'

"'Is it? Now I don't know anything about music. It's the words that make me feel wisht.'

"'And now,' said I, 'you've eased my soul of the curiosity that has been vexing it for twenty-four hours. Your voice told you were English; but there was something in it besides—something almost rubbed out, if I may say so, by your training for the ministry. I was wondering what part of England you hailed from, and I meant to find out without asking. You'll observe that as yet I don't even know your name. But Cornwall's your birthplace.'

"'I suppose,' he answered, smiling, ' you've only heard me called '' the Bishop.'' Yes, you're quite right. I come from the north of Cornwall—from Port Isaac; and my name's Penno—John Penno. I used to be laughed at for it at the Training College, and for my Cornish talk. They said it

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“‘I know Port Isaac. At least, I once spent a couple of days there.'

“‘Ah? ' He turned on me eagerly—with a sob, almost. ' You will have seen my folks, maybe? My father's a fisherman there—Hezekiah Penno—Old Ki, he's always called: everyone knows him.'

"I shook my head. 'The only fisherman I knew at all was called Tregay. He took me out after the pollack one day in his boat, the Little Mercy.'

“‘That will be my mother's brother Israel. He named the boat after a sister of mine. She's grown up now and married, and settled at St. Columb. This is wonderful! And how was Israel wearing when you saw him?'. '

“‘You have later news of him than I can give. I am speaking of ten years ago.'

"His face fell pathetically; but he contrived a rueful little laugh as he answered: ' And I must have been a boy of nine at the time, and playing about Portissick Street, no doubt! Never mind. It's good, anyway, to speak of home to you; for you've seen it, you know.'

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“During the next three or four days—for a relapse followed his rally, and he had to give up all thought of departing immediately—I talked much with the Bishop; and I think that each talk added to my respect and wonder. In the first place, though I had read in a good many poetry books of maidens who walked through all manner of deadliness unhurt—Una and the lion, you know, and the rest of them—I hadn't imagined that kind or amount of innocence in a young man. But what startled me even more was the size of his ambitions. ' Bishop' —in partibus infidelium with a vengeance— was too small a title for him. 'Twas a Peter the Hermit's part, or a Savonarola's, or Whitefield's at least, he was going to play all along the Pacific Slope; and his outfit no more than a small Bible and the strength of a mouse. And with all this the poor boy was just wearying for home, and every small fibre in his sick heart pulling him back while he fixed his eyes on the lights up the mountain, and stiffened his back and talked about

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putting a hand to the plough and not turning back.

"'Lights?' said he, 'what lights? I never heard of any.'

“'Well, it's something that flashes, anyway—a regular line of it.'

“'I'll tell you what it's not; and that's quicksilver,' Hewson answered.

"On my way down to Eucalyptus early that morning, I hitched my horse up to the Necropolis gate and determined to explore the secret of the lights before visiting the Bishop. The track toward the cinnabar works was pretty easy to follow, first along; but when I had climbed some four or five hundred feet it grew fainter, and was lost at length under the pine-needles. Luckily some hand had notched a tree here and there, and these guided me to the dry bed of a torrent, on the far side of which the track reappeared, and continued pretty plain for the rest of the journey, though broken in several places by the rains. I had missed my way three times at the most; but it took

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“‘Was it weary, then, In the wilderness?'

"I turned and went down the track.

"At the Necropolis gate I found Captain Bill standing, with a heavy and puzzled face, beside my horse.

“‘I was stepping up to Cornice House; but found your nag here, and concluded to wait. I've been waiting the best part of an hour. What in thunder have you been doing with yourself? '

"'Prospecting,' said I. 'What's the news? Anything wrong with the Bishop? '

“‘There's nothing wrong with him; and won't be any more. He broke a bloodvessel in the night. Flo looked in early this

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“Two days later—the morning of the funeral—I met Captain Bill at the entrance of the town. He held the Bishop's small morocco-bound Bible in his hand; but for excellent reasons had made no change in his work-day attire.

“‘You're attending, of course? ' was his greeting. ' Say, would you like to conduct? It lay between me and Huz-'n'-Buz, and he was for tossing up; but I allowed he was altogether too hoary a sinner. So we made him chief mourner instead, along with Flo— the more by token that he's the only citizen with a black coat to his back. As for Flo, she's got to attend in colors, having cut up her only black gown to nail on the casket for a covering. Foolishness, of course; but she was set on it. But see here, you've only to say the word, and I'll resign to you.'

"I declined, and suggested that for two reasons he was the man to conduct the service:

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first, as the most prominent inhabitant of Eucalyptus; and secondly, as having made himself in a way responsible for the Bishop from the first.

"He eyed the Bible dubiously. 'It's pretty small print,' he added. ' I suppose it's all good, now? '

“'If you mean that you're going to open the book and read away from the first full-stop you happen to light on'-------

“‘That's what I'd planned. You don't suppose, do you, I've had time since Tuesday to read all this through and skim off the cream? '

“‘Then you'd better let me pick out a chapter for you.'

"As I took the Bible something fluttered from it to the ground. Captain Bill stooped and picked it up.

“'That's pretty, too,' he said, handing it to me.

“It was a little bookmarker, worked in silk, with one pink rose, the initials M. P. (for Mercy Penno, no doubt), and under these the favourite lines that small west-country

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children in England embroider or their samplers:

“I turned to the fifteenth chapter of the first Epistle to the Corinthians; showed the captain where to begin; and laid the bookmarker opposite the place.

'' We walked a few paces together as far as the green knoll that I have described as overhanging Eucalyptus, and there I halted to wait for the funeral, while Captain Bill went on to the Necropolis to make sure that the grave was ready and all arrangements complete. The procession was not due to start for another quarter of an hour, so I found a comfortable bowlder and sat down to smoke a pipe. Right under me stretched the deserted main street, and in the hush of the morning—it was just the middle of the Indian summer, and the air all sunny and soft—I could hear the billiard-balls click-

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“‘Was it weary there,

“Suddenly, far down the street, there was a stir, and from the door of No. 67 half a dozen men came staggering out into the sunshine under a black coffin, which they carried shoulder high; and behind came two figures only—those of Miss Montmorency and the architect—arm in arm. The bearers wheeled round, got into step after one or two attempts, and the procession advanced.

“And I observed, as it advanced, that a hush came slowly with it, closing on the click of the balls and the strumming of the banjoes, as from saloon after saloon the players stepped out and fell in at the tail of the procession. Gradually these noises were

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“I did not attend the funeral after all. I rose and stood hat in hand as it climbed past—the coffin, the one woman, and the many men. It was grotesque enough. Flo had on the same outrageous costume she had worn at our first meeting; but a look at the black drapery of the coffin sanctified that. One mourner, in pure absence of mind, had brought along his billiard-cue as a walking-stick; and every now and then would step out of the ranks and distribute whacks among the five or six dogs that frisked alongside the procession. But I read on every face the consciousness that Eucalyptus was doing its duty.

“So they climbed past and up to the Necropolis, and filed in between its two pillars. I could see among the pines a group or two standing, with bent heads, and Captain Bill towering beside the grave; at times I heard his voice lifted, but could not catch the words. Down in the town for a while all was silent as death. Then in a saloon below some boy—left behind, no doubt, to

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“‘All the world is sad and dreary

“The tune ceased. The only sound now came from a robin, hunting about the turf and now and then breaking out into an impatient twitter.

“The silence was broken at length by the footsteps of the mourners returning. They went down the hill almost as decorously as they had gone up. Flo stepped aside and came toward me.

“‘Let me stay beside you for a bit. 1 can't go back there—yet.'

"This was all she said; and we stood there side by side for minutes. Soon the tinkle of a banjo came up to us, and a pair of billiard-balls clicked; then a second banjo joined in; and gradually, as the stream of citizens trickled back and spread, so like a stream the sound of clicking billiard-balls and tinkling banjoes trickled back and

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“‘For it's weary here In de wilderness '

“Flo looked at me and put out a hand; but drew it back before I could take it. And so,, without another word, she went down the hill."

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A DROLL

Teague thought he had never seen anything so heavenly. What with one hindrance and another 'twas past midnight before he reached home, and then nothing would do for him but he must have his wife and six children out upon the floor in their