A Daughter of the Snows Page 10

  CHAPTER X

  The next morning Corliss was knocked out of a late bed by Bash, one ofJacob Welse's Indians. He was the bearer of a brief little note fromFrona, which contained a request for the mining engineer to come andsee her at his first opportunity. That was all that was said, and hepondered over it deeply. What did she wish to say to him? She wasstill such an unknown quantity,--and never so much as now in the lightof the day before,--that he could not guess. Did she desire to givehim his dismissal on a definite, well-understood basis? To takeadvantage of her sex and further humiliate him? To tell him what shethought of him in coolly considered, cold-measured terms? Or was shepenitently striving to make amends for the unmerited harshness she haddealt him? There was neither contrition nor anger in the note, noclew, nothing save a formally worded desire to see him.

  So it was in a rather unsettled and curious frame of mind that hewalked in upon her as the last hour of the morning drew to a close. Hewas neither on his dignity nor off, his attitude being strictlynon-committal against the moment she should disclose hers. But withoutbeating about the bush, in that way of hers which he had come alreadyto admire, she at once showed her colors and came frankly forward tohim. The first glimpse of her face told him, the first feel of herhand, before she had said a word, told him that all was well.

  "I am glad you have come," she began. "I could not be at peace withmyself until I had seen you and told you how sorry I am for yesterday,and how deeply ashamed I--"

  "There, there. It's not so bad as all that." They were stillstanding, and he took a step nearer to her. "I assure you I canappreciate your side of it; and though, looking at it theoretically, itwas the highest conduct, demanding the fullest meed of praise, still,in all frankness, there is much to--to--"

  "Yes."

  "Much to deplore in it from the social stand-point. And unhappily, wecannot leave the social stand-point out of our reckoning. But so faras I may speak for myself, you have done nothing to feel sorry for orbe ashamed of."

  "It is kind of you," she cried, graciously. "Only it is not true, andyou know it is not true. You know that you acted for the best; youknow that I hurt you, insulted you; you know that I behaved like afish-wife, and you do know that I disgusted you--"

  "No, no!" He raised his hand as though to ward from her the blows shedealt herself.

  "But yes, yes. And I have all reason in the world to be ashamed. Ican only say this in defence: the woman had affected me deeply--sodeeply that I was close to weeping. Then you came on the scene,--youknow what you did,--and the sorrow for her bred an indignation againstyou, and--well, I worked myself into a nervous condition such as I hadnever experienced in my life. It was hysteria, I suppose. Anyway, Iwas not myself."

  "We were neither of us ourselves."

  "Now you are untrue. I did wrong, but you were yourself, as much sothen as now. But do be seated. Here we stand as though you were readyto run away at first sign of another outbreak."

  "Surely you are not so terrible!" he laughed, adroitly pulling hischair into position so that the light fell upon her face.

  "Rather, you are not such a coward. I must have been terribleyesterday. I--I almost struck you. And you were certainly brave whenthe whip hung over you. Why, you did not even attempt to raise a handand shield yourself."

  "I notice the dogs your whip falls among come nevertheless to lick yourhand and to be petted."

  "Ergo?" she queried, audaciously.

  "Ergo, it all depends," he equivocated.

  "And, notwithstanding, I am forgiven?"

  "As I hope to be forgiven."

  "Then I am glad--only, you have done nothing to be forgiven for. Youacted according to your light, and I to mine, though it must beacknowledged that mine casts the broader flare. Ah! I have it,"clapping her hands in delight, "I was not angry with you yesterday; nordid I behave rudely to you, or even threaten you. It was utterlyimpersonal, the whole of it. You simply stood for society, for thetype which aroused my indignation and anger; and, as itsrepresentative, you bore the brunt of it. Don't you see?"

  "I see, and cleverly put; only, while you escape the charge ofmaltreating me yesterday; you throw yourself open to it to-day. Youmake me out all that is narrow-minded and mean and despicable, which isvery unjust. Only a few minutes past I said that your way of lookingat it, theoretically considered, was irreproachable. But not so whenwe include society."

  "But you misunderstand me, Vance. Listen." Her hand went out to his,and he was content to listen. "I have always upheld that what is iswell. I grant the wisdom of the prevailing social judgment in thismatter. Though I deplore it, I grant it; for the human is so made.But I grant it socially only. I, as an individual, choose to regardsuch things differently. And as between individuals so minded, whyshould it not be so regarded? Don't you see? Now I find you guilty.As between you and me, yesterday, on the river, you did not so regardit. You behaved as narrow-mindedly as would have the society yourepresent."

  "Then you would preach two doctrines?" he retaliated. "One for theelect and one for the herd? You would be a democrat in theory and anaristocrat in practice? In fact, the whole stand you are making isnothing more or less than Jesuitical."

  "I suppose with the next breath you will be contending that all men areborn free and equal, with a bundle of natural rights thrown in? Youare going to have Del Bishop work for you; by what equal free-bornright will he work for you, or you suffer him to work?"

  "No," he denied. "I should have to modify somewhat the questions ofequality and rights."

  "And if you modify, you are lost!" she exulted. "For you can onlymodify in the direction of my position, which is neither so Jesuiticalnor so harsh as you have defined it. But don't let us get lost indialectics. I want to see what I can see, so tell me about this woman."

  "Not a very tasteful topic," Corliss objected.

  "But I seek knowledge."

  "Nor can it be wholesome knowledge."

  Frona tapped her foot impatiently, and studied him.

  "She is beautiful, very beautiful," she suggested. "Do you not thinkso?"

  "As beautiful as hell."

  "But still beautiful," she insisted.

  "Yes, if you will have it so. And she is as cruel, and hard, andhopeless as she is beautiful."

  "Yet I came upon her, alone, by the trail, her face softened, and tearsin her eyes. And I believe, with a woman's ken, that I saw a side ofher to which you are blind. And so strongly did I see it, that whenyou appeared my mind was blank to all save the solitary wail, _Oh, thepity of it_! _The pity of it_! And she is a woman, even as I, and Idoubt not that we are very much alike. Why, she even quotedBrowning--"

  "And last week," he cut her short, "in a single sitting, she gambledaway thirty thousand of Jack Dorsey's dust,--Dorsey, with two mortgagesalready on his dump! They found him in the snow next morning, with onechamber empty in his revolver."

  Frona made no reply, but, walking over to the candle, deliberatelythrust her finger into the flame. Then she held it up to Corliss thathe might see the outraged skin, red and angry.

  "And so I point the parable. The fire is very good, but I misuse it,and I am punished."

  "You forget," he objected. "The fire works in blind obedience tonatural law. Lucile is a free agent. That which she has chosen to do,that she has done."

  "Nay, it is you who forget, for just as surely Dorsey was a free agent.But you said Lucile. Is that her name? I wish I knew her better."

  Corliss winced. "Don't! You hurt me when you say such things."

  "And why, pray?"

  "Because--because--"

  "Yes?"

  "Because I honor woman highly. Frona, you have always made a stand forfrankness, and I can now advantage by it. It hurts me because of thehonor in which I hold you, because I cannot bear to see taint approachyou. Why, when I saw you and that woman together on the trail, I--youcannot understand what I suffered."

  "Taint?" There
was a tightening about her lips which he did notnotice, and a just perceptible lustre of victory lighted her eyes.

  "Yes, taint,--contamination," he reiterated. "There are some thingswhich it were not well for a good woman to understand. One cannotdabble with mud and remain spotless."

  "That opens the field wide." She clasped and unclasped her handsgleefully. "You have said that her name was Lucile; you display aknowledge of her; you have given me facts about her; you doubtlessretain many which you dare not give; in short, if one cannot dabble andremain spotless, how about you?"

  "But I am--"

  "A man, of course. Very good. Because you are a man, you may courtcontamination. Because I am a woman, I may not. Contaminationcontaminates, does it not? Then you, what do you here with me? Outupon you!"

  Corliss threw up his hands laughingly. "I give in. You are too muchfor me with your formal logic. I can only fall back on the higherlogic, which you will not recognize."

  "Which is--"

  "Strength. What man wills for woman, that will he have."

  "I take you, then, on your own ground," she rushed on. "What ofLucile? What man has willed that he has had. So you, and all men,have willed since the beginning of time. So poor Dorsey willed. Youcannot answer, so let me speak something that occurs to me concerningthat higher logic you call strength. I have met it before. Irecognized it in you, yesterday, on the sleds."

  "In me?"

  "In you, when you reached out and clutched at me. You could not downthe primitive passion, and, for that matter, you did not know it wasuppermost. But the expression on your face, I imagine, was very likethat of a woman-stealing cave-man. Another instant, and I am sure youwould have laid violent hands upon me."

  "Then I ask your pardon. I did not dream--"

  "There you go, spoiling it all! I--I quite liked you for it. Don'tyou remember, I, too, was a cave-woman, brandishing the whip over yourhead?

  "But I am not done with you yet, Sir Doubleface, even if you havedropped out of the battle." Her eyes were sparkling mischievously, andthe wee laughter-creases were forming on her cheek. "I purpose tounmask you."

  "As clay in the hands of the potter," he responded, meekly.

  "Then you must remember several things. At first, when I was veryhumble and apologetic, you made it easier for me by saying that youcould only condemn my conduct on the ground of being socially unwise.Remember?"

  Corliss nodded.

  "Then, just after you branded me as Jesuitical, I turned theconversation to Lucile, saying that I wished to see what I could see."

  Again he nodded.

  "And just as I expected, I saw. For in only a few minutes you began totalk about taint, and contamination, and dabbling in mud,--and all inrelation to me. There are your two propositions, sir. You may onlystand on one, and I feel sure that you stand on the last one. Yes, Iam right. You do. And you were insincere, confess, when you found myconduct unwise only from the social point of view. I like sincerity."

  "Yes," he began, "I was unwittingly insincere. But I did not know ituntil further analysis, with your help, put me straight. Say what youwill, Frona, my conception of woman is such that she should not courtdefilement."

  "But cannot we be as gods, knowing good and evil?"

  "But we are not gods," he shook his head, sadly.

  "Only the men are?"

  "That is new-womanish talk," he frowned. "Equal rights, the ballot,and all that."

  "Oh! Don't!" she protested. "You won't understand me; you can't. Iam no woman's rights' creature; and I stand, not for the new woman, butfor the new womanhood. Because I am sincere; because I desire to benatural, and honest, and true; and because I am consistent with myself,you choose to misunderstand it all and to lay wrong strictures upon me.I do try to be consistent, and I think I fairly succeed; but you cansee neither rhyme nor reason in my consistency. Perhaps it is becauseyou are unused to consistent, natural women; because, more likely, youare only familiar with the hot-house breeds,--pretty, helpless,well-rounded, stall-fatted little things, blissfully innocent andcriminally ignorant. They are not natural or strong; nor can theymother the natural and strong."

  She stopped abruptly. They heard somebody enter the hall, and a heavy,soft-moccasined tread approaching.

  "We are friends," she added hurriedly, and Corliss answered with hiseyes.

  "Ain't intrudin', am I?" Dave Harney grinned broad insinuation andlooked about ponderously before coming up to shake hands.

  "Not at all," Corliss answered. "We've bored each other till we werepining for some one to come along. If you hadn't, we would soon havebeen quarrelling, wouldn't we, Miss Welse?"

  "I don't think he states the situation fairly," she smiled back. "Infact, we had already begun to quarrel."

  "You do look a mite flustered," Harney criticised, dropping hisloose-jointed frame all over the pillows of the lounging couch.

  "How's the famine?" Corliss asked. "Any public relief started yet?"

  "Won't need any public relief. Miss Frona's old man was too forehandedfer 'em. Scairt the daylights out of the critters, I do b'lieve.Three thousand went out over the ice hittin' the high places, an' halfez many again went down to the caches, and the market's loosened someconsiderable. Jest what Welse figgered on, everybody speculated on arise and held all the grub they could lay hand to. That helped scarethe shorts, and away they stampeded fer Salt Water, the whole caboodle,a-takin' all the dogs with 'em. Say!" he sat up solemnly, "cornerdogs! They'll rise suthin' unheard on in the spring when freightin'gits brisk. I've corralled a hundred a'ready, an' I figger to clear ahundred dollars clean on every hide of 'em."

  "Think so?"

  "Think so! I guess yes. Between we three, confidential, I'm startin'a couple of lads down into the Lower Country next week to buy up fivehundred of the best huskies they kin spot. Think so! I've limbered myjints too long in the land to git caught nappin'."

  Frona burst out laughing. "But you got pinched on the sugar, Dave."

  "Oh, I dunno," he responded, complacently. "Which reminds me. I'vegot a noospaper, an' only four weeks' old, the _SeattlePost-Intelligencer_."

  "Has the United States and Spain--"

  "Not so fast, not so fast!" The long Yankee waved his arms forsilence, cutting off Frona's question which was following fast on thatof Corliss.

  "But have you read it?" they both demanded.

  "Unh huh, every line, advertisements an' all."

  "Then do tell me," Frona began. "Has--"

  "Now you keep quiet, Miss Frona, till I tell you about it reg'lar.That noospaper cost me fifty dollars--caught the man comin' in roundthe bend above Klondike City, an' bought it on the spot. The dummycould a-got a hundred fer it, easy, if he'd held on till he madetown--"

  "But what does it say? Has--"

  "Ez I was sayin', that noospaper cost me fifty dollars. It's the onlyone that come in. Everybody's jest dyin' to hear the noos. So Iinvited a select number of 'em to come here to yer parlors to-night,Miss Frona, ez the only likely place, an' they kin read it out loud, byshifts, ez long ez they want or till they're tired--that is, if you'lllet 'em have the use of the place."

  "Why, of course, they are welcome. And you are very kind to--"

  He waved her praise away. "Jest ez I kalkilated. Now it so happens,ez you said, that I was pinched on sugar. So every mother's son anddaughter that gits a squint at that paper to-night got to pony up fivecups of sugar. Savve? Five cups,--big cups, white, or brown, orcube,--an' I'll take their IOU's, an' send a boy round to their shacksthe day followin' to collect."

  Frona's face went blank at the telling, then the laughter came backinto it. "Won't it be jolly? I'll do it if it raises a scandal.To-night, Dave? Sure to-night?"

  "Sure. An' you git a complimentary, you know, fer the loan of yerparlor."

  "But papa must pay his five cups. You must insist upon it, Dave."

  Dave's eyes twinkled appreciatively. "I'll git
it back on him, youbet!"

  "And I'll make him come," she promised, "at the tail of Dave Harney'schariot."

  "Sugar cart," Dave suggested. "An' to-morrow night I'll take the paperdown to the Opery House. Won't be fresh, then, so they kin git incheap; a cup'll be about the right thing, I reckon." He sat up andcracked his huge knuckles boastfully. "I ain't ben a-burnin' daylightsence navigation closed; an' if they set up all night they won't be upearly enough in the mornin' to git ahead of Dave Harney--even on asugar proposition."