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tales of trail and town-第33部分

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mademoiselle consoles herself!〃



Monsieur Ribaud never knew how near he was to the white road below

the railing at that particular moment。  Luckily; Dick controlled

himself; and wisely; as Monsieur Ribaud's next sentence showed him。



〃A romance;an innocent; foolish liaison; if you like;but; all

the same; if known of a Mademoiselle de Fontonelles; a compromising;

a fatal entanglement。  There you are。  Look! for this; then; all

this story of cock and bulls and spirits!  Mademoiselle has been

discovered with her lover by some one。  This pretty story shall stop

their mouths!〃



〃But wot;〃 said Dick brusquely; 〃wot if the girl was really skeert

at something she'd seen; and fainted dead away; as she said she

did;andand〃he hesitated〃some stranger came along and picked

her up?〃



Monsieur Ribaud looked at him pityingly。



〃A Mademoiselle de Fontonelle is picked up by her servants; by her

family; but not by the young man in the woods; alone。  It is even

more compromising!〃



〃Do you mean to say;〃 said Dick furiously; 〃that the ragpickers and

sneaks that wade around in the slumgallion of this country would

dare to spatter that young gal?〃



〃I mean to say; yes;assuredly; positively yes!〃 said Ribaud;

rubbing his hands with a certain satisfaction at Dick's fury。  〃For

you comprehend not the position of la jeune fille in all France!

Ah! in America the young lady she go everywhere alone; I have seen

herpretty; charming; fascinatingalone with the young man。  But

here; no; never!  Regard me; my friend。  The French mother; she say

to her daughter's fiance; 'Look! there is my daughter。  She has

never been alone with a young man for five minutes;not even with

you。  Take her for your wife!'  It is monstrous! it is impossible!

it is so!〃



There was a silence of a few minutes; and Dick looked blankly at

the iron gates of the park of Fontonelles。  Then he said: 〃Give me

a cigar。〃



Monsieur Ribaud instantly produced his cigar case。  Dick took a

cigar; but waved aside the proffered match; and entering the cafe;

took from his pocket the letter to Mademoiselle de Fontonelles;

twisted it in a spiral; lighted it at a candle; lit his cigar with

it; and returning to the veranda held it in his hand until the last

ashes dropped on the floor。  Then he said; gravely; to Ribaud:



〃You've treated me like a white man; Frenchy; and I ain't goin'

back on yerthough your ways ain't my waysnohow; but I reckon in

this yer matter at the shotto you're a little too previous!  For

though I don't as a gin'ral thing take stock in ghosts; I BELIEVE

EVERY WORD THAT THEM FOLK SAID UP THAR。  And;〃 he added; leaning

his hand somewhat heavily on Ribaud's shoulder; 〃if you're the man

I take you for; you'll believe it too!  And if that chap; Armand de

Fontonelles; hadn't hev picked up that gal at that moment; he would

hev deserved to roast in hell another three hundred years!  That's

why I believe her story。  So you'll let these yer Fontonelles keep

their ghosts for all they're worth; and when you next feel inclined

to talk about that girl's LOVER; you'll think of me; and shut your

head!  You hear me; Frenchy; I'm shoutin'!  And don't you forget it!〃



Nevertheless; early the next morning; Monsieur Ribaud accompanied

his guest to the railway station; and parted from him with great

effusion。  On his way back an old…fashioned carriage with a

postilion passed him。  At a sign from its occupant; the postilion

pulled up; and Monsieur Ribaud; bowing to the dust; approached the

window; and the pale; stern face of a dignified; white…haired woman

of sixty that looked from it。



〃Has he gone?〃 said the lady。



〃Assuredly; madame; I was with him at the station。〃



〃And you think no one saw him?〃



〃No one; madame; but myself。〃



〃Andwhat kind of a man was he?〃



Monsieur Ribaud lifted his shoulders; threw out his hands

despairingly; yet with a world of significance; and said:



〃An American。〃



〃Ah!〃



The carriage drove on and entered the gates of the chateau。  And

Monsieur Ribaud; cafe proprietor and Social Democrat; straightened

himself in the dust and shook his fist after it。







A NIGHT ON THE DIVIDE





With the lulling of the wind towards evening it came on to snow

heavily; in straight; quickly succeeding flakes; dropping like

white lances from the sky。  This was followed by the usual Sierran

phenomenon。  The deep gorge; which; as the sun went down; had

lapsed into darkness; presently began to reappear; at first the

vanished trail came back as a vividly whitening streak before them;

then the larches and pines that ascended from it like buttresses

against the hillsides glimmered in ghostly distinctness; until at

last the two slopes curved out of the darkness as if hewn in

marble。  For the sudden storm; which extended scarcely two miles;

had left no trace upon the steep granite face of the high cliffs

above; the snow; slipping silently from them; left them still

hidden in the obscurity of night。  In the vanished landscape the

gorge alone stood out; set in a chaos of cloud and storm through

which the moonbeams struggled ineffectually。



It was this unexpected sight which burst upon the occupants of a

large covered 〃station wagon〃 who had chanced upon the lower end of

the gorge。  Coming from a still lower altitude; they had known

nothing of the storm; which had momentarily ceased; but had left a

record of its intensity in nearly two feet of snow。  For some

moments the horses floundered and struggled on; in what the

travelers believed to be some old forgotten drift or avalanche;

until the extent and freshness of the fall became apparent。  To add

to their difficulties; the storm recommenced; and not comprehending

its real character and limit; they did not dare to attempt to

return the way they came。  To go on; however; was impossible。  In

this quandary they looked about them in vain for some other exit

from the gorge。  The sides of that gigantic white furrow terminated

in darkness。  Hemmed in from the world in all directions; it might

have been their tomb。



But although THEY could see nothing beyond their prison walls; they

themselves were perfectly visible from the heights above them。  And

Jack Tenbrook; quartz miner; who was sinking a tunnel in the rocky

ledge of shelf above the gorge; stepping out from his cabin at ten

o'clock to take a look at the weather before turning in; could

observe quite distinctly the outline of the black wagon; the

floundering horses; and the crouching figures by their side;

scarcely larger than pygmies on the white surface of the snow; six

hundred feet below him。  Jack had courage and strength; and the

good humor that accompanies them; but he contented himself for a

few moments with lazily observing the travelers' discomfiture。  He

had taken in the situation with a glance; he would have helped a

brother miner or mountaineer; although he knew that it could only

have been drink or bravado that brought HIM into the gorge in a

snowstorm; but it was very evident that these were 〃greenhorns;〃 or

eastern tourists; and it served their stupidity and arrogance

right!  He remembered also how he; having once helped an Eastern

visitor catch the mustang that had 〃bucked〃 him; had been called

〃my man;〃 and presented with five dollars; he recalled how he had

once spread the humble resources of his cabin before some straying

members of the San Francisco party who were 〃opening〃 the new

railroad; and heard the audible wonder of a lady that a civilized

being could live so 〃coarsely〃?  With these recollections in his

mind; he managed to survey the distant struggling horses with a

fine sense of humor; not unmixed with self…righteousness。  There

was no real danger in the situation; it meant at the worst a delay

and a camping in the snow till morning; when he would go down to

their assistance。  They had a spacious traveling equipage; and

were; no doubt; well supplied with furs; robes; and provisions for

a several hours' journey; his own pork barrel was quite empty; and

his blankets worn。  He half smiled; extended his long arms in a

decided yawn; and turned back into his cabin to go to bed。  Then he

cast a final glance around the interior。  Everything was all right;

his loaded rifle stood against the wall; he had just raked ashes

over the embers of his fire to keep it intact till morning。  Only

one thing slightly troubled him; a grizzly bear; two…thirds grown;

but only half tamed; which had been given to him by a young lady

named 〃Miggles;〃 when that charming and historic girl had decided

to accompany her paralytic lover to the San Francisco hospital; was

missing that evening。  It had been its regular habit to come to the

door every night for some sweet biscuit or sugar before going to

its lair in the underbrush behind the cabin。  Everybody knew it

along the length and breadth of Hemlock Ridge; as well as the 
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