Jessica, the Heiress Part 27

"Where you hurt, neighbor?"

Antonio caught at the straw the ranchman seemed to extend, and feebly pointed to the wound in his back.

What followed astonished Ninian far more than it did Jessica, who knew the carpenter's ways. As tenderly, perhaps, because of his greater strength, the old man lifted the injured one and critically examined his wound; his face growing graver as he did so, yet not losing its expression of confidence and decision. When the examination was over, he replaced Antonio on the hard pillow, which had been Pedro's one luxury, and quietly replied to the poor fellow's unspoken question, burning in his great dark eyes:

"It's a bad job, my son. A mighty bad job, and a sneaky one. I've seen such before in my time, and they didn't mean death. To some folks, though, they meant what was worse."

n.o.body would now have recognized the voice which uttered this dictum, it had become so infinitely compa.s.sionate and gentle.

Antonio caught one meaning only: "I will not die? I need not die? It is you who will save me, yes? O'santos Dios!"

He had half risen from the bed, but now sank back, exhausted by the shock of emotion as well as by the physical effort; and Jessica sprang forward, terrified by the sudden pallor of his swarthy face. But John put her quietly aside and himself placed a flask to Antonio's lips, saying:

"You've done your part well, my n.o.ble little captain, and you've done me proud. It's my place now."

The senor soon rallied, and again fixed his eyes imploringly on Benton's face, as he sat on the edge of the bed beside him.

"Yes, top-lofty, I promise to help you. But first you must help yourself. You must pledge your word, the word of a dying man, that he dare not break. You will restore everything that you have taken from the mistress of Sobrante--or anybody else--so far as it will hereafter be in your power; you shall compel your Brother Ferd to guide a party of prospectors to that secret spot in the canyon where that piece of copper came from; and you shall do all that it is possible to do for the good, and not the evil, of your neighbors. That all clear?"

"But, yes, yes!" whispered Antonio, frantically. "Haste! Oh, haste!"

"I'm a-hasting, but I ain't a-hurrin'. Which is a good thing for you, 'cause so I can think this thing over. That ball in your back will have to come out. I've taken some from folks myself, once or twice, but this one is in a ticklish place. A doctor is what we want, and the nearest one is ten miles away on Kimball's ranch. He'd rather potter with his roses than other folks' bullets, and I'll have a tough piece of work to drag him up here, especially to see--you."

With an impressive emphasis on the word "you" John paused, and waited some rejoinder. None came, and though Jessica again exclaimed against the carpenter's contemptuous tone, Antonio neither resented it, nor felt it undeserved. Then Benton continued:

"Sharp, here, is a writin' fellow, and knows what's what every time.

In the jerk of a lamb's tail he'll draw up a paper which'll explain what you promise, and you've got strength enough to sign your name to it. The minute you do that I'm off for Kimball, and I'll fetch him up here fast as horses can travel--if I have to carry him on my back!"

"Quick! The paper! I sign--I live!"

"Quick" it was, and though Ninian was no lawyer, he was always well provided with pads and fountain pens. Also, he was clever enough to use the longest and most impressive words wherever possible, and thus convinced the senor that the doc.u.ment sounded legally important.

Indeed, the injured manager could scarcely wait to affix his signature, so eager was he that John should be off on his errand of salvation.

An hour later the padre came, and Jessica led Ninian away, that the pair might have the cottage to themselves. Then, when this visitation was over, the good man lingered, that he might hear for himself the doctor's opinion when he should arrive. He, too, had listened to another confession from the truly repentant Antonio; but there was still a sacred office to perform if this awaited opinion should be for death, not life. But he had ridden far, and was tired, having come directly from his own church service at the distant mission, and Jessica's hospitality could not endure to see the look of weariness on the old man's kindly face.

"Beg pardon, Fra Sebastian, but would you like a cup of coffee?"

"Ah! my daughter, would I like the impossible? But, yes, I am famished, indeed, for the good dinner of Marta, my housekeeper," he answered, with a shrug of his plump shoulders.

"Well, father, I cannot give you a dinner, but I can make you a pot of fresh coffee; and in Pedro's little storeroom are cans of meat, and beans and biscuit. Oh! I tell you! I'll bring the plates out here--there are two whole ones--and dear Mr. Sharp and you shall have a picnic."

Already, with the light-heartedness of childhood, she had almost forgotten the sorrowful errand upon which she had come to the mesa.

Besides, to her, a thing that was possible was, also, probable, and John would never have raised false hopes in Antonio's breast. She was sure of that, and already the senor's recovery a matter of but a little while. Moreover, to serve others was her dearest happiness, and though Fra Sebastian's faith was different from her parents', she had been trained to know all good people as the children of G.o.d. And he was especially such, for his benefactions and self-sacrifices were widespread, and he had been an honored guest at her father's table.

"Oh! I am so happy to do anything for so holy a man, and I am so glad--so glad we came!" she whispered to Ninian, tripping away to relight the little stove and fill her kettle afresh.

"But I must be allowed to help, too, my captain," he returned, eagerly entering into the altered spirit of things; and so merry were they over their preparations, so gay and bright the reverend guest became, that Antonio was helped over his own tedious time of waiting, and scarce knew how the time pa.s.sed before John's return.

This was sooner than could have been antic.i.p.ated. The physician was already halfway on the road, intending a neighborly call at Sobrante, when the carpenter met and literally collared him.

"Come you must, Dr. Kimball. I shan't take 'no' for an answer," was the decisive retort to the rose-grower's prompt refusal.

"I shall do nothing of the sort. I'm not a practicing physician now, and I never was a surgeon. As for that scalawag, Bernal, if he's got himself shot, he's met exactly what he deserved. Giddap!" he cried, to his horse, and was dashing past, just as John's long arm reached out and clutched the ranchman's coat.

"It isn't so much for him as for our Lady Jess. You're not in such a tearin' hurry, neighbor, and if you are--well, just let your hurry wait."

Whereupon, in a few brief, telling sentences, Dr. Kimball was put in possession of the facts Antonio had revealed, and had wheeled his horse about, with a whimsical snarl:

"Well, forge ahead. For anybody named Trent I'd break my own resolutions a dozen times a day."

It is probable that the kind-hearted man would have gone anyway, even if he had ridden some miles still farther on an opposite road. The knowledge that somebody was suffering and needing him was an appeal to his professional instinct he would scarcely have resisted, but he had to make a protest first.

All merriment ceased when he entered the cabin on the mesa, and Jessica instinctively sought the reporter's hand, needing his sympathy during the anxious few minutes that ensued upon the doctor's arrival.

Fra Sebastian and John had followed the surgeon indoors, but Ferd, who had brought the priest to the upland, still remained within the deserted fold, whither he had retreated as soon as his errand was accomplished. To him death of any sort, even that of an animal brought a horrible fear, and nothing would induce him to leave his shelter; till, when the conference was over, Jessica ran to him, exclaiming:

"Cheer up, Ferd! Oh, Ferd! He's going to live, though, maybe--maybe he will never walk again. Come and see him, Ferd. He wants you. He needs you."

The dwarf came reluctantly, still adoring his brother and still shrinking from him and the sight of his agony. The examination had been painful, of course; and the condition upon which life might still remain a bitter one. However, it was--life! And to Antonio, at that present moment, that was all he craved.

"We must make a litter or stretcher and take him to the valley. He will need the closest care and watching. He couldn't stay up here, and have a single chance of recovery. Let's see, there are five men of us, counting the dwarf. We'll have to walk with the stretcher, and he shall lead the horses, all but Buster, whom Jessica can ride. One at a time he'll 'spell' us, and the one released will take his place at the beasts," was the doctor's decision.

So it was done. A blanket was speedily fastened about two poles drawn from the corral, and over these Pedro's hard mattress was laid; and thus, placed as comfortably upon it as might be, Antonio was once more conveyed to his old home at Sobrante.

And there, that Sunday night, was wild rejoicing and much speculation concerning the outcome of his confession.

"Sharp's the man to put the thing in trim. He's the very chap! He knows all about minerals, and he says that this copper we've struck is the very purest article he ever saw! Hurray! Hurray! Three cheers and a tiger for the Sobrante Copper Mine!" shouted the hilarious Marty.

Meanwhile, there had been short but heated discussion among her loyal henchmen as to whether Mrs. Trent should be forced to receive and care for, under her immediate roof, a man who had done her so much injury; and the decision had been unanimous: "No!"

Even John, who had helped to bring him thither, joined his voice to this a.s.sertion; and to the next question propounded, as to who would attend him and where, had as loudly answered: "I don't know."

Temporarily, the senor was resting in the household sitting-room, but it was evident should not long remain there.

"Where then? Hate him as we may, we can't let him die on our hands,"

said Samson, looking as black as he could.

"Don't you fret yourselves, 'boys,'" said a cheerful voice near the group. "Mr. Ma'sh and me, or me and Mr. Ma'sh--for I had to put it to him pretty plain, 'fore he'd seed it right--me and him will take that misguided creatur' into our hands, and----"

"May the Lord have mercy on his soul!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Marty, fervently.

"Me and Ephraim will 'tend him, turn and turn about," continued Mrs.

Benton, ignorant of Marty's irreverent remark. "He's to be put into Mr. Ma'sh's room at the quarters, and I'll take this first night's job. I shall begin it with a dose of picra, and the first page of the Westminster catechism; and if that don't put him in good shape for the doctor and Ephraim, in the morning, my name ain't Sally Benton, nor never was. The doctor, he's rode home for his instruments and such, and hopes to get the bullet out in the course of time. But it's my opinion, and his, too, I reckon, 'cause he didn't deny it when I put the question plain, it's our opinion that Antonio Bernal will never walk another step in his life. But he'll live. He'll live everlastin'.

Them old Californy folks always do. He'll simply be paralyzed from his waist down."

Despite their antipathy to him, a thrill of pity ran through every one who heard her; and to most of those stalwart men it seemed that this was a punishment they could not have endured. Death would have been far preferable to them.

So it befell that the late manager's fate was in the hands of his enemies, so to speak; and while Mrs. Benton and "Forty-niner" would faithfully perform their duty toward him, they elected to do it along lines of their own.