Lost Lenore Part 20

A CURIOUS CASE OF SELF-MURDER.

The pursuit conducted us southward; and, at almost every place where we made inquiry, we heard of four mounted Mexicans--who could be no other than the men we were desirous of overtaking.

For the first two days, we were told, in answer to our inquiries, that they were about forty-eight hours in advance of us.

On the third morning, we again got word of them at a rancho, where they had stopped to bait their horses. The owner of the rancho gave a description of a mule which they were leading along with them--a brown mule, with rat tail and hog mane. It could be no other than the one, which had cost d.i.c.k so dearly.

After feeding their animals, the Mexicans had made no further halt; but had taken the road again--as if pressed for time. So fancied the ranchero.

They must have been under some apprehension of being pursued--else they would not have travelled in such hot haste. It was about forty hours-- the man said--since they had taken their departure from the rancho. We were gaining upon them; but so slowly, that Guinane was all the while chafing with impatience.

He seldom spoke. When he did, it was to urge me to greater speed. I had much trouble in holding him sufficiently in check to prevent our horses from being killed with over riding.

From information obtained at the rancho, we could now tell that the Mexicans were making for the sea coast, instead of directing their march towards the interior. If they intended going overland to the city of Mexico, they were taking a very indirect road towards their destination.

At each place where we got word of them--on the fourth day of our pursuit--we learnt that the distance between us was rapidly lessening.

Near the evening of this day, we stopped at another rancho, to refresh our horses--now nearly done up. The Mexicans had stopped at the same place, six hours before. On leaving it, they had taken the road to San Luis Obispo. We should arrive there about noon on the following day.

"To-morrow," said Guinane, as he lay down to s.n.a.t.c.h a short repose, while our horses were feeding, "to-morrow I shall have revenge or death!

My prayer is, _G.o.d let me live until to-morrow_!"

Again we were in the saddle--urging our horses along the road to San Luis Obispo.

We reached that place at the hour of noon. Another disappointment for my companion!

San Louis is a seaport. A small vessel had departed that morning for Mazatlan, and the Mexicans were aboard of her!

On arriving at the port, they had hastily disposed of their animals; and taken pa.s.sage on the vessel--which chanced to be on the eve of sailing.

We were just one hour too late!

To think of following them further would have been worse than madness-- which is folly. By the time we could reach Mazatlan, they might be hundreds of miles off--in the interior of Mexico.

Never have I witnessed such despondency, as was exhibited by Guinane at that moment.

So long as there had appeared a chance of overtaking the men, who had injured him, he had been sustained by the hope of revenge; but on our relinquishing the pursuit, the recollection of the many misfortunes that had darkened his life, added to this new chagrin, came palpably before his mind, suggesting thoughts of suicide!

"'Twas folly to pursue them at all," said he. "I should have known that the chance of overtaking them would have been a stroke of fortune too good to be mine. Fate has never yet been so kind to me, as to grant a favour I so much desired; and I was a fool to expect it. Shall I die?"

I used every means in my power to direct his thoughts to some other subject; but he seemed not to heed, either what I said or did.

Suddenly arousing himself from a long reverie, he emphatically exclaimed:

"No! I will war with fate, till G.o.d calls me hence! All the curses of fortune shall not make me surrender. All the powers of h.e.l.l shall not subdue me. I will live, and conquer them all!"

His spirit, after a terrible struggle, had triumphed; and now rose in opposition to fate itself.

We rode back to the Stanislaus. It was a dreary journey; and I was glad when it was over. There had been an excitement in the chase, but none in returning from it. Even the horses seemed to partic.i.p.ate in the cloudy change that had come over our thoughts.

After arriving at the Stanislaus, I went to see Stormy Jack. I found him hard at work, and doing well in his claim--which was likely to afford him employment for several weeks longer. I was pleased to hear of his success; and strongly urged him to abstain from drink.

"I don't intend to drink any more," said he, "leastwise, as long as I'm on the diggings; and sartinly not when I have any gold about me. That last spree, when I came so near losin' it, has larnt me manners."

Guinane accompanied me on this visit to Stormy; and on our return, we pa.s.sed through the town. My partner had left his name at the office of "Reynold's Express," for the purpose of having his letters forwarded from the General Post-office in San Francisco. As we pa.s.sed the Express Office, he called in, to see if any had arrived for him.

A letter was handed to him--for which he paid in postage and express charges, one dollar and fifty cents!

After getting the letter, we stepped into a tavern, where he commenced reading it.

While thus occupied, I noticed that he seemed strangely agitated.

"We are friends," said he, turning short towards me. "I have told you some of my troubles of the past. Read this letter, and make yourself acquainted with some more. It is from Amanda Milne."

He held the letter before my eyes, and I read:--

"I know your upright and manly spirit will see no impropriety in my writing to you. I have done you injustice; and in doing so, have wronged myself, as much as you. I have just learnt that your character has been injured by a fault of mine--by my not having acknowledged giving you the purse. Forgive me, Richard! for I _love_ you, and _have loved_ you, ever since I was a child."--Guinane crumpled the letter between his fingers, and I was able to read no more. I saw him suddenly raise his hands towards the place where once were his ears--at the same time that I heard him muttering the words, "Too late! too late!"

Another movement followed this--quick and suspicious. I looked to ascertain its meaning. A revolver was in his hand--its muzzle touching his temples!

I rushed forward; but to use his own last words, I was "too late."

There were three distinct sounds; a snap, the report of a pistol, and the concussion of a body falling upon the floor.

I stooped to raise him up. It was too late. He was dead!

Can the reader comprehend the thought that dictated this act of self-destruction? If not, I must leave him in ignorance.

In preparing the remains of my comrade for the grave, a silk purse, containing a piece of paper, was found concealed beneath his clothing.

There was writing upon the paper, in a female hand. It was as follows:--

"d.i.c.k,

"I do not believe the stories people tell of you; and think you are too good to do anything wrong I am sorry you have gone away. Good bye.

"Amanda."

It was, no doubt, the note he had received from Amanda, after his first parting with her--enclosed in the letter of his mother, sent after him to New York. It was replaced in the purse, and both were buried along with his body.

Poor Amanda! She may never learn his sad fate--unless chance may direct her to the reading of this narrative.

Volume One, Chapter XXIV.

AN IMPATIENT MAN.

I have not much fault to find with this world--although the people in it do some strange things, and often act in a manner that puzzles me to comprehend. The man of whom Guinane had borrowed the mule, was himself an original character. After my comrade's death, I became slightly acquainted with this individual; and was much amused, though also a little pained, at what I thought to be his eccentric behaviour.

Original types of mankind are, perhaps, more frequently met with on gold fields than elsewhere. Men without a certain spirit and character of their own, are less likely to adopt a life of so many perils and hardships, as gold diggers must needs encounter.

But there are also men who can _appear_ eccentric--even amongst gold diggers; and the individual to whom I have alluded was one of these.