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A short story by Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch |
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The Bishop Of Eucalyptus |
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Title: The Bishop Of Eucalyptus Author: Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch [More Titles by Quiller-Couch] A DOCTOR'S STORY. "_O toiling hands of mortals! O unwearied feet, travelling ye know not whither! Soon, soon, it seems to you, you must come forth on some conspicuous hill-top, and but a little way further, against the setting sun, descry the spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your own blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the true success is to labour_."--R. L. Stevenson. "Eucalyptus lies on the eastern slope of the Rockies. It will be fourteen years back this autumn that the coach dropped me there, somewhere about nine in the evening, and Hewson, who was waiting, took me straight to his red-pine house, high up among the foot-hills. The front of it hung over the edge of a waterfall, down which Hewson sent his logs with a pleasing certainty of their reaching Eucalyptus sooner or later; and right at the back the pines climbed away up to the snow-line. You remember the story of Daniel O'Rourke; how an eagle carried him up to the moon, and how he found it as smooth as an egg-plum, with just a reaping-hook sticking out of its side to grip hold of? Hewson's veranda reminded me of that reaping-hook; and, as a matter of fact, the cliff was so deeply undercut that a plummet, if it could be let through between your heels, would drop clean into the basin below the fall. "The house was none of Hewson's building. Hewson was a bachelor, and could have made shift with a two-roomed cabin for himself and his men. He had taken the place over from a New Englander, who had made his pile by running the lumbering business up here and a saw-mill down in the valley at the same time. The place seemed dog-cheap at the time; but after a while it began to dawn upon Hewson that the Yankee had the better of the deal. Eucalyptus had not come up to early promise. In fact, it was slipping back and down the hill with a run. Already five out of its seven big saw-mills were idle and rotting. Its original architect had sunk to a blue-faced and lachrymose bar-loafer, and the roll of plans which he carried about with him--with their unrealised boulevards, churches, municipal buildings, and band-kiosks--had passed into a dismal standing joke. Hewson was even now deliberating whether to throw up the game or toss good money after bad by buying up a saw-mill and running it as his predecessor had done. "'It's like a curse,' he explained to me at breakfast next morning. 'The place is afflicted like one of those unfortunate South Sea potentates, who flourish up to the age of fourteen and then cypher out, and not a soul to know why. First of all, there's the lumbering. Well, here's the timber all right; only Bellefont, farther down the valley, has cut us out. Then we had the cinnabar mines--you may see them along the slope to northward, right over the west end of the town. They went well for about sixteen months; and then came the stampede. A joker in the _Bellefont Sentinel_ wrote that the miners up in Eucalyptus were complaining of the 'insufficiency of exits'; and he wasn't far out. Last there were the 'Temperate Airs and Reinvigorating Pine-odours of America's Peerless Sanatorium. _Come and behold: Come and be healed!_' The promoters billed that last cursed jingle up and down the States till as far south as Mexico it became the pet formula for an invitation to drink. Well, for three years we averaged something like a couple of hundred invalids, and doctors in fair proportion; and I never heard that either did badly. It was an error of judgment, perhaps, to start our municipal works with a costly Necropolis, or rather the gateway of one; two marble pillars, if you please--the only stonework in Eucalyptus to this day--with 'Campo' on one side and 'Santo' on the other. No healthy-minded person would be scared by this. But the invalids complained that we'd made the feature too salient; and the architect has gone ever since by the name of 'Huz-and-Buz,' bestowed on him by some wag who meant 'Jachin and Boaz,' but hadn't Scripture enough to know it. Anyhow the temperate airs and pine-odours are a frost. There's nobody, I fancy, living at Eucalyptus just now for the benefit of his health, and I believe that at this moment you're the only doctor within twenty miles of the place.' "'Well,' said I, 'I'll step down this morning anyway, and take a look.' "'You can saddle the brown horse whenever you like. You were too sleepy to take note of it last night, but you came up here by a track fit for a lady's pony-carriage. My predecessor engineered it to connect his two places of business. In its way, it's the most palatial thing in the Rockies--two long legs with a short tack between, gentle all the way--and it brings you out by the Necropolis gate. You can hitch the horse up there.'"
"By and by the track took a sharp and steep trend down hill, then a curve; the trees on my right seemed to drop away; and we found ourselves on the edge of a steep bluff overhanging the valley, the whole eastern slope of which broke full into sight in that instant, from the river tumbling below--by sticking out a leg I could see it shining through my stirrup--to the rocky _aretes_ and smoothed-out snowfields round the peaks. It made a big spectacle, and I suppose I must have stared at it till my eyes were dazzled, for, on turning again to follow the track, which at once dived among the pines and into the dusk again, I did not observe, until quite close upon her, a woman coming towards me. "And yet she was not rigged out to escape notice. She had on a scarlet Garibaldi, a striped red-and-white skirt, bunched up behind into an immense polonaise, and high-heeled shoes that tilted her far forward. She wore no hat, but carried a scarlet sunshade over her shoulder. Her hair, in a towsled chignon, was golden, or rather had been dyed to that colour; her face was painted; and she was glaringly drunk. "This sudden apparition shook me down with a jerk; and I suppose the sight of me had something of the same effect on the woman, who staggered to the side of the track, and, plumping down amid her flounces, beckoned me feebly with her sunshade. I pulled up, and asked what I could do for her. "'You're the doctor?' she said slowly, with a tight hold on her pronunciation. "'That's so.' "'From Cornice House?' "I nodded. "She nodded back. 'That's so. Oh, dear, dear! _you_ said that. I can't help it. I'm drunk, and it's no use pretending!' "She fell to wringing her hands, and the tears began to run from her bistred eyes. "'Now, see here, Mrs.--Miss--' "'Floncemorency.' "'Miss Florence Montmorency?' I hazarded as a translation. "'That's so. Formerly of the Haughty Coal.' "'I beg your pardon? Ah! . . . of the Haute Ecole?' "'That's so: '_questrienne_.' "'Well, you'll take my advice, and return home at once and put yourself to bed.' "'Don't you worry about me. It's the Bishop you've got to prescribe for. I allowed I'd reach Cornice House and fetch you down, if it took my last breath. Pete Stroebel at the drug store told me this morning that Mr. Hewson had a doctor come to stop with him, so I started right along.' "'And how far did you calculate to reach in those shoes?' "'I didn't calculate at all; I just started along. If the shoes had hurt, I'd have kicked them off and gone without, or maybe crawled.' "'Very good,' said I. 'Now, before we go any farther, will you kindly tell me who the Bishop is?' "'He's a young man, and he boards with me. See here, mister,' she went on, pulling herself together and speaking low and earnest, 'he's good; he's good right through: you've got to make up your mind to that. And he's powerful sick. But what you've got to lay hold of is that he's good. The house is No. 67, West fifteenth Street, which is pretty easy to find, seeing it's the only street in Eucalyptus. The rest haven't got beyond paper, and old Huz-and-Buz totes them round in his pocket, which isn't good for their growth.' "'Won't you take me there?' "'Not to-day. I guess I've got to sit here till I feel better. Another thing is, you'll be doing me a kindness if you don't let on to the Bishop that you found me in this--this state. He never saw me like this: he's good, I tell you. And he'd be sick and sorry if he knew. I'm just mad with myself, too; but I swear I never meant to be like this to-day. I just took a dose to fix me up for the journey; but ever since I've been holding off from the whisky the least drop gets into my walk. You didn't happen to notice a spring anywhere hereabouts, did you? There used to be one that ran right across the track.' "'I passed it about a hundred yards back.' "I dismounted and led her to the spring, where she knelt and bathed her face in the water, cold from the melting snowfields above. Then she pulled out a small handkerchief, edged with cheap lace, and fell to dabbing her eyes. "'Hullo!' she cried, breaking off sharply. "'Yes,' I answered, 'you had forgotten that. But another wash will take it all off, and, if you'll forgive my saying so, you won't look any the worse. After that you shall soak my handkerchief and bandage it round your forehead till you feel better. Here, let me help.' "'Thank you,' she said, as I tied the knot. 'And now hurry along, please. Sixty-seven, West Fifteenth Street. I'll be waiting here with your handkerchief.' "I mounted and rode on. At the end of half a mile the track began to dip more steeply, and finally emerged by a big clearing and the two marble pillars of which Hewson had spoken; and here I tethered the brown horse, and had a look around before walking down into Eucalyptus. Within the clearing a few groups of Norfolk pines had been left to stand, and between these were burial lots marked out and numbered, with here and there a painted wooden cross; but the inhabitants of this acre were few enough. Behind and above the 'Necropolis' the hill rose steeply; and there, high up, were traces of the disused cinnabar mines--patches of orange-coloured earth thrusting out among the pines. "The road below the cemetery ran abruptly down for a bit, then heaved itself over a green knoll and descended upon what I may call a very big and flat meadow beside the river. It was here that Eucalyptus stood; and from the knoll, which was really the beginning of the town, I had my first good view of it--one long street of low wooden houses running eastward to the river's brink, where a few decayed mills and wharves straggled to north and south--a T, or headless cross, will give you roughly the shape of the settlement. From the knoll you looked straight along the main street; with a field-gun you could have swept it clean from end to end, and, what's more, you wouldn't have hurt a soul. The place was dead empty--not so much as a cur to sit on the sidewalk--and the only hint of life was the laughing and banjo-playing indoors. You could hear that plain enough. Every second house in the place was a saloon, and every saloon seemed to have a billiard-table and a banjo player. I never heard anything like it. I should say, if you divided the population into four parts, that two of these were playing billiards, one tum-tumming 'Hey, Juliana' on the banjo, and the remaining fourth looking on and drinking whisky, and occasionally taking part in the chorus. All the way down the sidewalk I had these two sounds--the _click, click_ of the balls and the _thrum, thrum, tinkle, tinkle_ of 'Juliana'--ahead of me; and left silence in my wake, as the inhabitants dropped their occupations and sauntered out to stare at 'the Last Invalid,' which was the name promptly coined for me by the disheartened but still humorous promoters of America's Peerless Sanatorium. "You don't know 'Juliana'--neither tune nor words? Nor did I when I set foot in Eucalyptus; but I lived on pretty close terms with it for the next two months, and it ended by clearing me out of the neighbourhood. It was a sort of nigger camp-meeting song, and a hybrid at that. It went something like this:" The lost ell-and-yard is Orion's sword and belt, I may tell you-- 'Hey, Juliana, Juli-he-hi-holy! 'O, de children shibber by de Jordan's flow--
"I found the house, No. 67, easily; and knocked. It looked neat enough, with a fence in front and some pots of flowers in a little balcony over the porch, and clean muslin curtains to the windows. The fence and house-front were painted a bright blue, but not entirely; for here and there appeared patches of green daubed over the blue, much as if a child had been around experimenting with a paint-pot. "'Open the door and come upstairs, please,' said an English voice right overhead. And, looking up, I saw a slim young man in a minister's black suit standing among the flower-pots and smiling down at me. I saw, of course, that this must be my patient; and I knew his complaint too. Even at that distance anyone could see he was pretty far gone in consumption. "As I climbed the stairs he came in from the porch and met me on the landing, at the door of Miss Montmorency's best parlour-- a spick-and-span apartment containing a cottage piano, some gilded furniture of the Second Empire fashion, a gaudy lithograph or two, and a carpet that had to be seen to be believed. "'I had better explain,' said I, 'that this is a professional visit. I met Miss Montmorency just outside the town, and have her orders to call. I am a medical man.' "Still smiling pleasantly, he took my hand and shook it. "'Miss Montmorency is so very thoughtful,' he said; then, touching his chest lightly, 'It's true I have some trouble here-- constitutional, I'm afraid; but I have suffered from it, more or less, ever since I was fourteen, and it doesn't frighten me. There is really no call for your kind offices; nothing beyond a general weakness, which has detained me here in Eucalyptus longer than I intended. But Miss Montmorency, seeing my impatience, has jumped to the belief that I am seriously ill.' Here he smiled again. 'She is the soul of kindness,' he added. "I looked into his prominent and rather nervous eyes. They were as innocent as a child's. Of course there was nothing unusual in his hopefulness, which is common enough in cases of phthisis-- symptomatic, in fact; and, of course, I did not discourage him. "'You have work waiting for you? Some definite post?' I asked. "He answered with remarkable dignity; he looked a mere boy too. "'I am a minister of the gospel, as you guess by my coat: to be precise, a Congregational minister. At least, I passed through a Congregational training college in England. But nice distinctions of doctrine will be of little moment in the work before me. No, I have no definite post awaiting me--that is, I have not received a call from any particular congregation, nor do I expect one. The harvest is over there, across the mountains; and the labourers are never too many.' "It was singular in my experience; but this young man contrived to speak like a book without being at all offensive. "'I was sent out to America,' he went on, 'mainly for my health's sake; and the voyage did wonders for me. Of course I picked up a lot of information on the way and in New York. It was there I first heard of the awful wickedness of the Pacific Slope, the utter, abandoned godlessness of the mining camps throughout the golden and silver states. I had letters of introduction to one or two New England families--sober, religious people--and the stories they told of the Far West were simply appalling. It was then that my call came to me. It came one night--But all this has nothing to do with my health.' "'It interests me,' said I. "'It does one good to talk, if you're sure you mean that,' he went on, with a happy laugh. Then, with sudden gravity: 'It came one night--the clear voice of God calling me. I was asleep; but it woke me, and I sat up in bed with the voice still ringing in my ears like a bugle calling. I knew from that moment that my work lay out West. I saw that my very illness had been, in God's hands, a means to lead me nearer to it. As soon as ever I was strong enough, I started; and you may think me fanciful, sir, but I can tell you that, as sure as I sit here, every step of the way has been smoothed for me by the Divine hand. The people have been so kind all the way (for I am a poor man); and I have other signs--other assurances--' "He broke off, hesitated, and resumed his sentence at the beginning: "'The people have been so kind. I think the Americans must be the kindest people in the world; and good too. I cannot believe that all the wickedness they talk of out yonder can come from anything but ignorance of the Word. I am certain it cannot. And that encourages me mightily. Why, down in Bellefont they told me that Eucalyptus here was a little nest of iniquity; they spoke of it as of some City of the Plain. And what have I found? Well, the people are indeed as sheep without a shepherd; and who can wonder, seeing that there is not a single House of Prayer kept open in the municipality? There is a great deal of coarse levity, and even profanity of speech, and, I fear, much immoderate drinking; but these are the effects of blindness rather than of wickedness. From the heavier sins--from what I may call actual, conscious vice--Eucalyptus is singularly free. Miss Montmorency, indeed, tells me that in her experience (which, of course, is that of a single lady, and therefore restricted) the moral tone of the town is surprisingly healthy. You understand that I give her judgment no more than its due weight. Still, Miss Montmorency has lived here three years; and for a single lady (and, I may add, the only lady in the place) to pass three years in it entirely unmolested--' "This was too much; and I interrupted him almost at random-- "'You remind me of the purpose of my call. I hope, if only to satisfy Miss Montmorency, you won't mind my sounding your chest and putting a few questions to you.' "Seeing that I had already pulled out my stethoscope, he gave way, feebly protesting that it was not worth my trouble. The examination merely assured me of that which I knew already--that this young man's days were numbered, and the numbers growing small. I need not say I kept this to myself. "'You must let me call again to-morrow,' said I. 'I've a small medicine chest up at the Cornice House, and you want a tonic badly.' "Upon this he began, with a confused look and a slight stammer: 'Do you know--I'm afraid you will think it rude, but I didn't mean it for rudeness--really. Your visit has given me great pleasure--' "It flashed on me that he had called himself 'a poor man.' "'I wasn't proposing to doctor you,' I put in; and it was a shameless lie. 'You may take the tonic or not; it won't do much harm, anyway. But a gentle walk every day among the pines here--the very gentlest, nothing to overtax your strength--will do more for you than any drugs. But if you will let me call, pretty often, and have a talk-- I'm an Englishman, you know, and an English voice is good to hear--' "His face lit up at once. 'Ah, if you would!' said he; and we shook hands."
"'How's the Bishop?' asked this giant, jerking his head towards the little balcony of No. 67. "Before I could hit on a discreet answer, he followed the question up with another: "'What'll you take?' "I saw that he had something to say, and allowed him to lead the way to a saloon a little way down the road. 'Simpson's Pioneers' Symposium' was the legend above the door. A small, pimply-faced man in seedy black--whom I guessed at once, and correctly, to be 'Huz-and-Buz'--lounged by the bar inside; and across the counter the bar-keeper had his banjo slung, and was gently strumming the accompaniment of 'Hey, Juliana!' "'Put that down,' commanded my new acquaintance; and then, turning to Huz-and-Buz, 'Git!' "The architect raised the brim of his hat to me, bowed servilely, and left. "'Short or long?' "I said I would take a short drink. "'A brandy sour?' "'A 'brandy sour' will suit me.' "He kept his eye for a moment on the bar-tender, who began to bustle around with the bottles and glasses; then turned upon me. "'Now, then.' "'About the Bishop, as you call him?' "He nodded. "'Well, you're not to tell him so; but he's going to die.' "'Quick?' "'I think so.' "He nodded. 'I knew that,' he said, and was silent for a minute; then resumed, 'No; he won't be told. We take an interest in that young man.' "'Meaning by 'we'?' "'The citizens of Eucalyptus as a body. My name's William Anderson: Captain Bill they call me. I was one of the first settlers in Eucalyptus. I've seen it high, and I've seen it low. And I'm going to be the last man to quit; that's the captain's place. And when I say this or that is public opinion in Eucalyptus, it's got to be. I drink to your health, Doctor.' "'Thank you,' said I. 'Then I may count on your silence? The poor chap is so powerfully set on crossing the Rockies and getting to close quarters with some real wickedness, that to tell him the truth might shorten the few days he has left.' "Captain Bill smiled grimly. "'Wickedness? Lord love you! _He_ couldn't see any. He'd go through 'Frisco, and out at the far end, without so much as guessing the place had a seamy side to it. His innocence,' pursued the captain, 'is unusual. I guess that's why we're taking so much care of him. But I must say you've been spry.' "'Upon my word, I can't at this moment make head or tail of the business. I met Miss Montmorency on the road--' "'I guess she was looking like a Montmorency, too. Flyheel Flo is her name hereabouts; alluding to her former profession of circus-rider. Perhaps I'd better put the facts straight for you.' "'I wish you would.' "'Well, it'll be about two months back that the Bishop came to Eucalyptus. We were most of us here in Simpson's bar when the coach drove up at nine o'clock--same time as it dropped you last night--and we loafed out to have a look. There was only one passenger got down; and he seemed of no account--a weedy-looking youngster with a small valise--looked like he might have come to be bartender to one of the small saloons. It was dark out there, you understand: nothing to see by but the lamps of the coach and the light of the doorway; besides which the fellow was pretty well muffled up in a heavy coat and wraps. Anyway he didn't seem worth a second look; so when the coach moved on we just sauntered back here, and I don't reckon there was a man in the room knew he'd followed us till he lifted up that reedy voice of his. 'Gentlemen,' he piped out, 'would some one of you be kind enough to direct me to a nice, comfortable lodging?' Old Huz-and-Buz was drinking here with his back to the door. 'Great Caesar's ghost!' he called out, dropping his glass, 'what 'n thunder's that?' 'Gentlemen,' pipes up the young man again, 'I am a stranger, this moment arrived by the coach; and it would be a real kindness to direct me to a comfortable lodging." By this time he'd unwound the muffler about his neck and unbuttoned his outer wraps generally, and we saw he was rigged out in genuine sky-pilot's uniform. We hadn't seen one of that profession in Eucalyptus for more'n two years. 'I'm afraid, your reverence,' says one of the boys, mimicking the poor lad's talk, 'I'm afraid the accommodation of this camp will hardly reach up to your style. I guess what _you_ want is a cosy little nook with a brass knocker and a nice motherly woman to look after you. You oughter have sent the municipality word you was coming.' 'Thank you,' answers the poor boy, as serious as can be; 'of course I shall be glad of such comforts, but I assure you they are not indispensable. I'm an old campaigner,' he says, drawing himself up to his poor little height and smiling proud-like. I tell you, that knocked the wind out of our sails. It was too big to laugh at. We just stuck for half a minute and looked at him, till the mischief put it into old Huz-and-Buz's head to cackle out, 'Better send him right along to Flyheel Flo!' This put up a laugh, and I saw in half a minute that the proposition had caught on. It struck me as sort of funny, too, at the time. So I steps forward and says, 'I know a lady who'd likely take you in and fix you up comfortable. This kind of thing ain't exactly in her line; but no doubt she'll put herself out to oblige a minister, specially if you take her a letter of introduction from me. Miss Florence Montmorency's her name, and she lives at No. 67 along the street here. Here, pass along the ink-bottle and a pen,' I says (for, barring Huz-and-Buz, I was about the only sinner present that hadn't forgotten how to spell); and inside of five minutes I'd fixed up the letter to Flo, and a dandy document it was! He took it and thanked me like as if it was a school prize; and I guess 'twas then it began to break in on me that we'd been playing it pretty low on the innocent. However, Pete caught up his valise, and two or three of us saw him along to Flo's door, and waited out on the sidewalk while he knocked. At the second knock Flo came down and let him in. I saw him lift his hat, and heard him begin with 'I believe I am addressing Miss Montmorency'; and what Flo was making ready to say in answer I'd give a dollar at this moment to know. But she looked over his shoulder, and with the tail of her eye glimpsed us outside, and wasn't going to show her hand before the boys. So quick as thought she pulls the youngster in, with his valise, and shuts the door. "'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 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, too!' '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. _Un_fortunately, 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 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.' "'Wait a bit. You haven't heard what I'm coming to. That young man is poor.' "'So I gather.' "'And I'm speaking now in the name of the boys. There was a meeting held just now, while you were 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 upwards. "'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.' "He backed up this assurance by shaking my hand a second time, and with great fervour. And so we parted. "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 and 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.'"
"'We were just going out for a walk together,' he explained, as we shook hands. "'And now you'll just have to walk out with the Doctor instead; and serve you right for talking foolishness.' She moved towards 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 farthest. 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 Montmorency, whom I found just outside on the landing. "'What's the meaning of it?' she demanded, very low and fierce. "'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 parlour. "'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 grace are naught; and her carelessness on sacred matters is appalling. If, when I am gone'-- and it struck me sharply that not only the western mountains but the cemetery gate lay in the direction of his nod, and that the gate lay nearer--'if you could speak to her now and then--ah, you can hardly guess how it would rejoice me some day when I return, bearing'--and his voice sank here--'bearing, please God, my sheaves with me!' "'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 upwards to the snow-fields, 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 Montmorency, when I pointed it out, declared that in all the time she has lived here she never once noticed it. Yet the first night I came here I saw it. My window looks westward, and I pulled the curtain aside for a moment before getting into bed. It had been dark as pitch when the coach dropped me; but now the moon was up, over opposite; and the first thing my eyes lit on was this line of lights reaching up the mountain. When I woke, next morning, it was still there, flashing in the sun. I think it was at breakfast, when I asked Miss Montmorency about it, and found she'd never remarked it, that it first came into my head 'twas meant for me. Anyhow, the idea's fixed there now, and I can't get away 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'--"
"'I wish they wouldn't,' said the Bishop, taking the handkerchief from his lips and speaking (as I thought) rather peevishly. "'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 would be a hindrance to me in the ministry, so I worked hard to overcome it.' "'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!' "He said this with his eyes fixed on the flashing mountain; and, as he finished, he sighed."
"'Hewson,' I said one morning, as we were breakfasting at the Cornice House, 'what's the cause of those curious lights up by the cinnabar mines, over Eucalyptus?' "'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 towards 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 me three-quarters of an hour to reach the lowest of the works, and another twenty minutes to get into anything like clear country. At length, on the edge of a steep depression that widened and shallowed as it neared the valley, I got a fair look up the slope. So far I had met nothing to account for the lights--nothing at all, in fact, but the broken spade-handles, old boots, empty meat-cans, and other refuse of the miners' camps; but every now and then I would catch a glimpse of the hillside high overhead: and always those lights were flashing there, though in varying numbers. Now, having a clear view, I found to my dismay that they had shrunk to one. It was like a story in the _Arabian Nights_. I swore, though, that I would not be cheated of this last chance. The flashing object, whatever it was, lay some two hundred yards above me on the slope; and I approached cautiously, with my eyes fixed on it, much like a child hunting grasshoppers in a hay-field. I was less than ten paces from it when the light suddenly vanished, and five paces more knocked the bottom out of the mystery. The object was a battered and empty meat-can. "I had passed a hundred such, at least, on my way. The camps had lain pretty close to the track, and the rains descending upon their refuse heaps had washed the labels off these cans, that now, as sun and moon rose and passed over the mountain side, flashed moving signals down to Eucalyptus in the valley--signals of failure and desolation. And these had been the Bishop's pillar of fire in the wilderness!"
"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 blood-vessel in the night. Flo looked in early this morning, and found him sleeping, as she thought. An hour later she took him a cup of tea, and was putting it down on the table by the bed, when she saw blood on the pillow. She's powerful upset.' "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 colours, 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: first, as the most prominent inhabitant of Eucalyptus; and secondly, as having made himself in a way responsible for the Bishop from the first. "'As you like,' said he.' I told him, that first night, that I'd see him through; and I will.' "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 children in England embroider on their samplers:"
"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 boulder 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-click-clicking as usual, and the players' voices breaking in at intervals, and the banjoes tinkling away down the street from saloon to saloon. These and the distant chatter of the river were all the sounds; and the river's chatter seemed hardly so persistent and monotonous as the voices of the saloons and the unceasing question--"
"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 penned into the three or four saloons immediately beneath me; and then these, too, were silenced, and the mourners began to climb the hill. "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 look after the house--took up a banjo and began to pick out slowly and with one finger the tune of ''Way down upon the Suwanee River,' and as it went I fitted the words to it:"
"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 towards me. "'Let me stay beside you for a bit. I 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 spread along the main street of Eucalyptus City."
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