Beth Norvell Part 8

"Th-th-this l-l-lady wants ter s-s-see how we m-m-mine," he explained in painful embarra.s.sment, "a-an' I th-th-thought I 'd t-take her d-d-down if you 'd w-work the w-w-windla.s.s a b-bit."

Old Mike turned slowly around and fronted the two, his screwed-up eyes on the girl, while with great deliberation he drew a match along the leg of his canvas trousers.

"Onything to oblige ye," he said gruffly. "Always ready to hilp the ladies--be me sowl, Oi've married three of thim already. An' wus this Hicks's orthers, Stutter?"

"N-n-no, not exactly," Brown admitted, with evident reluctance. "B-but ye s-s-see, she's a g-great friend o' B-B-Bill's, an' so I reckon it 'll be all r-right. Don't s-see how n-no harm kin be d-d-done."

The pessimistic Michael slowly blew a cloud of pungent smoke into the air, sucking hard at his pipe-stem, and laid his rough hands on the windla.s.s handle.

"None o' my dommed funeral, beggin' yer pardon, miss," he condescended to mutter in slight apology. "Long as the pay goes on, Oi 'd jist as soon work on top as down below. H'ist the female into the bucket, ye overgrown dood!"

Stutter Brown, still nervous from recurring doubts, awkwardly a.s.sisted his vivacious charge to attain safe footing, anxiously bade her hold firmly to the swaying rope, and stood, carefully steadying the line as it slowly disappeared, hypnotized still by those marvellous black eyes, which continued to peer up at him until they vanished within the darkness. Leaning far over to listen, the young miner heard the bucket touch bottom, and then, with a quick word of warning to the man grasping the handle, he swung himself out on the taut rope, and went swiftly down, hand over hand. Mike, still grumbling huskily to himself, waited until the windla.s.s ceased vibrating, securely anch.o.r.ed the handle with a strip of raw-hide, and composedly sat down, his teeth set firmly on the pipe-stem, his eyes already half closed. It was an obstinate, mulish old face, seamed and creased, the bright sunlight rendering more manifest the leather-like skin, the marvellous network of wrinkles about eyes and mouth. Not being paid for thought, the old fellow now contented himself with dozing, quite confident of not being quickly disturbed.

In this he was right. The two were below for fully an hour, while above them Mike leaned with back comfortably propped against the windla.s.s in perfect contentment, and the hobbled pony peacefully cropped the short gra.s.s along the ledge. Then the brooding silence was abruptly broken by a voice rising from out the depths of the shaft, while a vigorous shaking of the dangling rope caused the windla.s.s to vibrate sharply. Old Mike, with great deliberation stowing away his pipe, unslipped the raw-hide, and, calmly indifferent to all else except his necessary labor, slowly hauled the girl to the surface. She was radiant, her eyes glowing from the excitement of unusual adventure, and scrambled forth from the dangling bucket without awaiting a.s.sistance. Before Brown attained to the surface, the lady had safely captured the straying pony and swung herself lightly into the saddle.

Squaring his broad shoulders with surprise as he came out, his face flushed, his lips set firm, the young giant laid restraining fingers on her gloved hand.

"Y-y-you really m-mean it?" he asked, eagerly, as though fearing the return to daylight might already have altered her decision. "C-can I c-call on you wh-wh-where you s-s-said?"

She smiled sweetly down at him, her eyes picturing undisguised admiration of his generous proportions, and frank, boyish face.

"Si, si, senor. _Sapristi_, why not? 'T is I, rather, who 'fraid you forget to come."

"Y-you n-need n't be," he stammered, coloring. "S-senorita, I sh-shall never f-f-forget this day."

"_Quien sabe_?--poof! no more vill I; but now, _adios_, senor."

She touched her pony's side sharply with the whip, and, standing motionless, Stutter watched them disappear over the abrupt ledge. Once she glanced shyly back, with a little seductive wave of the gauntleted hand, and then suddenly dropped completely out of view down the steep descent of the trail. Old Mike struck another match, and held the tiny flame to his pipe-bowl.

"An' it's h.e.l.l ye played the day," he remarked reflectively, his eyes glowing gloomily.

The younger man wheeled suddenly about and faced him.

"Wh-what do ye m-m-mean?"

"Jist the same whut I said, Stutter. Ye 're a broight one, ye are.

That's the Mexican dancer down at the Gayety at San Juan, no less; and it's dollars to doughnuts, me bye, that that dom Farnham sint her out here to take a peek at us. It wud be loike the slippery cuss, an' I hear the two of thim are moighty chummy."

And Stutter Brown, his huge fists clinched in anger, looked off into the dark valley below, and, forgetting his affliction of speech, swore like a man.

CHAPTER VII

A DISMISSAL

The far from gentle orchestra at the Gayety was playing with a vivacity which set the pulses leaping, while the densely packed audience, scarcely breathing from intensity of awakened interest, were focussing their eager eyes upon a slender, scarlet-robed figure, an enveloping cloud of gossamer floating mistily about her, her black hair and eyes vividly contrasting against the clear whiteness of her skin, as she yielded herself completely to the strange convolutions of her weird dance. The wide stage was a yellow flood of light, and she the very witch of motion. This was her third encore, but, as wildly grotesque as ever, her full skirts shimmering in the glare of the foot-lights, her tripping feet barely touching the sanded floor, her young, supple figure, light as a fairy, weaving in the perfect rhythm of music, the tireless child of Mexico leaped and spun, wheeled and twirled,--at times apparently floated upon the very air, her bare white arms extended, her wonderful eyes blazing from the exhilaration of this moment of supreme triumph.

Beth Norvell, neatly gowned for the street, her own more sedate performance already concluded, had paused for a single curious instant in the shadow of the wings, and remained looking out upon that scarlet figure, flitting here and there like some tropical bird, through the gaudy glare of the stage. Winston, waiting patiently for twenty minutes amid the denser gloom just inside the stage door, watched the young girl's unconsciously interested face, wondering alike at both himself and her. This entire adventure remained an unsolved problem to his mystified mind--how it was she yet continued to retain his interest; why it was he could never wholly succeed in divorcing her from his life. He endeavored now to imagine her a mere ordinary woman of the stage, whom he might idly flirt with to-night, and quite as easily forget to-morrow. Yet from some cause the mind failed to respond to such suggestion. There was something within the calm, womanly face as revealed beneath the reflection of garish light, something in the very poise of the slender figure bending slightly forward in aroused enthusiasm, which compelled his respect, aroused his admiration. She was not a common woman, and he could not succeed in blinding himself to that fact. Even the garish, cheap environments, the glitter and tinsel, the noise and brutality, had utterly failed to tarnish Beth Norvell. She stood forth different, distinct, a perfectly developed flower, rarely beautiful, although blooming in muck that was overgrown with noxious weeds. Winston remained clearly conscious that some peculiar essence of her native character had mysteriously perfumed the whole place--it glorified her slight bit of stage work, and had already indelibly impressed itself upon those rough, boisterous Western spirits out in front. Before her parting lips uttered a line she had thoroughly mastered them, the innate purity of her perfected womanhood, the evident innocence of her purpose, shielding her against all indecency and insult. The ribald scoffing, the insolent shuffling of feet, the half-drunken uneasiness, ceased as if by magic; and as her simple act proceeded, the stillness out in front became positively solemn, the startled faces picturing an awakening to higher things. It was a triumph far exceeding the noisy outburst that greeted the Mexican--a moral victory over unrestrained lawlessness won simply by true womanliness, unaided and alone. That earlier scene had brought to Winston a deeper realization of this girl's genius, a fresher appreciation of the true worth of her esteem. No struggle of heart or head could ever again lower her in his secret thought to the common level.

The swinging strains of the dancer's accompaniment concluded with a blare of noisy triumph, the mad enthusiasts out in front wildly shouting her name above the frantic din of applause, while, flushed and panting, the agile Mexican dancer swept into the darkened wings like a scarlet bird.

"Ah, de Americana!" she exclaimed, her eyes yet blazing from excitement, poising herself directly in front of her silent watcher.

"Senorita, it ees not de same as yours--dey like you, si; but dey lofe Mercedes."

Miss Norvell smiled gently, her gaze on the other's flushed, childish face, and extended her hand.

"There seems ample room for both of us," she replied, pleasantly, "yet your dancing is truly wonderful. It is an art, and you must let me thank you."

It is difficult to understand why, but the untamed, pa.s.sionate girl, stung in some mysterious manner by these quietly spoken words of appreciation, instantly drew her slight form erect.

"You nevar forget you not one of us, do you?" she questioned in sudden bitterness of spirit. "Pah! maybe you tink I care what you like. I dance because I lofe to; because it sets my blood on fire. I no care for all your airs of fine lady."

"I exceedingly regret you should feel so. I certainly spoke in kindness and appreciation. Would you permit me to pa.s.s?"

The angry young Mexican swept back her scarlet skirts as though in disdain, her white shoulders uplifted. She did not know why she felt thus vindictive; to save her soul she could not have told the reason, yet deep down within her pa.s.sionate heart there existed a hatred for this white, silent American, whose slightest word sounded to her like rebuke. She stood there still, watching suspiciously, smouldering dislike burning in her black eyes, when Winston suddenly stepped from the concealing shadows with a word of unexpected greeting. She noticed the sudden flush sweep into Miss Norvell's cheek, the quick uplifting of her eyes, the almost instant drooping again of veiling lashes, and, quickly comprehending it all, stepped promptly forward just far enough to obtain a clear view of the young man's face. The next moment the two had vanished into the night without. Mercedes laughed unpleasantly to herself, her white teeth gleaming.

"Ah, Merciful Mother! so my ver' fine lady has found herself a lofer here already. _Sapristi_, an' he is well worth lookin' at! I vill ask of de stage manager his name."

Outside, beneath the faint glimmer of the stars, Winston offered his arm, and Miss Norvell accepted it silently. It was no more than a short stroll to the hotel, and the street at that particular hour was sufficiently deserted, so the young man rather keenly felt the evident constraint of his companion. It impressed him as unnatural, and he felt inclined to attribute her state of mind to the unpleasant scene he had just beheld.

"Senorita Mercedes does not appear very kindly disposed toward you," he ventured. "Have you quarrelled already?"

"You refer to the Mexican dancer?" she questioned, glancing aside at him curiously. "Really, I did not remember having heard the girl's name mentioned before. Do you know her?"

"Only as she is announced on the bills, and having seen her dance from the front of the house. She is certainly a true artist in her line, the most expert I recall ever having seen. What has ever made her your enemy?"

"I am sure I do not know. Her words were a complete surprise; I was too greatly astonished even to resent them. I have never spoken to the girl until to-night, and then merely uttered a sentence of sincere congratulation. She is extremely pretty, and it seems quite too bad she should be compelled to lead such a life. She does not appear older than seventeen."

He glanced about at her in surprise.

"Such a life," he echoed, recklessly. "So then you actually pity others while remaining totally unconcerned regarding yourself?"

"Oh, no; you greatly mistake, or else wilfully misconstrue. I am not unconcerned, yet there is a very wide difference, I am sure. This girl is at the Gayety from deliberate choice; she as much as told me so.

She is in love with that sort of life. Probably she has never known anything better, while I am merely fighting out a bit of hard luck, and, within two weeks, at the longest, shall again be free. Surely, you cannot hint that we stand upon the same level."

"G.o.d forbid!" fervently. "Yet just as sincerely I wish you did not deem it necessary to remain for even that brief length of time. It is a shock to me to realize your intimate a.s.sociation with such depraved characters. You are surely aware that my purse remains at your disposal, if you will only cut the whole thing."

She lifted her eyes reproachfully to his face.

"Yes, I know; and possibly you are justified according to your code for feeling in that way. But I do not believe I am becoming in the least contaminated by evil a.s.sociations, nor do I feel any lowering of moral ideals. I am doing what I imagine to be right under the circ.u.mstances, and have already given you my final decision, as well as my reason for it. You say 'such depraved characters.' Can you refer to this Mercedes? Strange as it may seem, I confess feeling an interest in this beautiful Mexican girl. What is it you know regarding her?"

The young man impulsively started to speak, but as instantly paused.

An instinctive dread of uttering those plain words he would much prefer she should never hear served to soften his language.

"There is not a great deal of reserve about the Gayety," he explained lightly, "and indiscriminate gossip is a part of its advertising equipment. As to Senorita Mercedes, my only informant is common rumor out in front. That connects her name quite familiarly with one of the proprietors of the gambling rooms."

"You have no reason to know this?"