Read A Sappho of Green Springs Page 19

of the startled, selfishanimal in his face, she did not dare to raise her eyes to his, butlooked at his mother. Mrs. Randolph was standing then, collected butimpatient.

  "It's all over now," said Emile, in his usual voice, "and except thechimneys and some fallen plaster there's really no damage done. ButI'm afraid they have caught it pretty badly at the mission, and at SanFrancisco in those tall, flashy, rattle-trap buildings they're puttingup. I've just sent off one of the men for news."

  Her father was in San Francisco by that time; and she had never thoughtof him! In her quick remorse she now forgot all else and rose to herfeet.

  "I must telegraph to my father at once," she said hurriedly; "he isthere."

  "You had better wait until the messenger returns and hear his news,"said Emile. "If the shock was only a slight one in San Francisco, yourfather might not understand you, and would be alarmed."

  She could see his face now--there was no record of the past expressionupon it, but he was watching her eagerly. Mrs. Randolph and Adele hadmoved away to speak to the servants. Emile drew nearer.

  "You surely will not desert us now?" he said in a low voice.

  "Please don't," she said vaguely. "I'm so worried," and, pushing quicklypast him, she hurriedly rejoined the two women.

  They were superintending the erection of a long tent or marquee in thegarden, hastily extemporized from the awnings of the veranda and othercloth. Mrs. Randolph explained that, although all danger was over, therewas the possibility of the recurrence of lighter shocks during the dayand night, and that they would all feel much more secure and comfortableto camp out for the next twenty-four hours in the open air.

  "Only imagine you're picnicking, and you'll enjoy it as most peopleusually enjoy those horrid al fresco entertainments. I don't believethere's the slightest real necessity for it, but," she added in a lowervoice, "the Irish and Chinese servants are so demoralized now, theywouldn't stay indoors with us. It's a common practice here, I believe,for a day or two after the shock, and it gives time to put things rightagain and clear up. The old, one-storied, Spanish houses with wallsthree feet thick, and built round a courtyard or patio, were much safer.It's only when the Americans try to improve upon the old order of thingswith their pinchbeck shams and stucco that Providence interferes likethis to punish them."

  It was the fact, however, that Rose was more impressed by what seemed toher the absolute indifference of Providence in the matter, and the coolresumption by Nature of her ordinary conditions. The sky above theirheads was as rigidly blue as ever, and as smilingly monotonous; thedistant prospect, with its clear, well-known silhouettes, had notchanged; the crows swung on lazy, deliberate wings over the grain asbefore; and the trade-wind was again blowing in its quiet persistency.And yet she knew that something had happened that would never again makeher enjoyment of the prospect the same--that nothing would ever be asit was yesterday. I think at first she referred only to the material andlarger phenomena, and did not confound this revelation of the insecurityof the universe with her experience of man. Yet the fact also remainedthat to the conservative, correct, and, as she believed, securecondition to which she had been approximating, all her relations wererudely shaken and upset. It really seemed to this simple-minded youngwoman that the revolutionary disturbance of settled conditions mighthave as Providential an origin as the "Divine Right" of which she hadheard so much.

  CHAPTER IV

  In her desire to be alone and to evade the now significant attentionsof Emile, she took advantage of the bustle that followed the hurriedtransfer of furniture and articles from the house to escape through thegarden to the outlying fields. Striking into one of the dusty lanes thatshe remembered, she wandered on for half an hour until her progress andmeditation were suddenly arrested. She had come upon a long chasm orcrack in the soil, full twenty feet wide and as many in depth, crossingher path at right angles. She did not remember having seen it before;the track of wheels went up to its precipitous edge; she could seethe track on the other side, but the hiatus remained, unbridged anduncovered. It was not there yesterday. She glanced right and left; thefissure seemed to extend, like a moat or ditch, from the distant road tothe upland between her and the great wheat valley below, from which shewas shut off. An odd sense of being in some way a prisoner confrontedher. She drew back with an impatient start, and perhaps her first realsense of indignation. A voice behind her, which she at once recognized,scarcely restored her calmness.

  "You can't get across there, miss."

  She turned. It was the young inventor from the wheat ranch, on horsebackand with a clean face. He had just ridden out of the grain on the sameside of the chasm as herself.

  "But you seem to have got over," she said bluntly.

  "Yes, but it was further up the field. I reckoned that the split mightbe deeper but not so broad in the rock outcrop over there than in theadobe here. I found it so and jumped it."

  He looked as if he might--alert, intelligent, and self-contained. Helingered a moment, and then continued:--

  "I'm afraid you must have been badly shaken and a little frightened upthere before the chimneys came down?"

  "No," she was glad to say briefly, and she believed truthfully, "I wasn'tfrightened. I didn't even know it was an earthquake."

  "Ah!" he reflected, "that was because you were a stranger. It'sodd--they're all like that. I suppose it's because nobody really expectsor believes in the unlooked-for thing, and yet that's the thing thatalways happens. And then, of course, that other affair, which really isserious, startled you the more."

  She felt herself ridiculously and angrily blushing. "I don't know whatyou mean," she said icily. "What other affair?"

  "Why, the well."

  "The well?" she repeated vacantly.

  "Yes; the artesian well has stopped. Didn't the major tell you?"

  "No," said the girl. "He was away; I haven't seen him yet."

  "Well, the flow of water has ceased completely. That's what I'm herefor. The major sent for me, and I've been to examine it."

  "And is that stoppage so very important?" she said dubiously.

  It was his turn to look at her wonderingly.

  "If it's LOST entirely, it means ruin for the ranch," he said sharply.He wheeled his horse, nodded gravely, and trotted off.

  Major Randolph's figure of the "life-blood of the ranch" flashed acrossher suddenly. She knew nothing of irrigation or the costly appliancesby which the Californian agriculturist opposed the long summer droughts.She only vaguely guessed that the dreadful earthquake had struck at theprosperity of those people whom only a few hours ago she had been proudto call her friends. The underlying goodness of her nature was touched.Should she let a momentary fault--if it were not really, after all,only a misunderstanding--rise between her and them at such a moment? Sheturned and hurried quickly towards the house.

  Hastening onward, she found time, however, to wonder also whythese common men--she now included even the young inventor in thatcategory--were all so rude and uncivil to HER! She had never beforebeen treated in this way; she had always been rather embarrassed by theadmiring attentions of young men (clerks and collegians) in her Atlantichome, and, of professional men (merchants and stockbrokers) in SanFrancisco. It was true that they were not as continually devoted to herand to the nice art and etiquette of pleasing as Emile,--they had otherthings to think about, being in business and not being GENTLEMEN,--butthen they were greatly superior to these clowns, who took no notice ofher, and rode off without lingering or formal leave-taking when theirselfish affairs were concluded. It must be the contact of the vulgarearth--this wretched, cracking, material, and yet ungovernable andlawless earth--that so depraved them. She felt she would like to saythis to some one--not her father, for he wouldn't listen to her, nor tothe major, who would laughingly argue with her, but to Mrs. Randolph,who would understand her, and perhaps say it some day in her ownsharp, sneering way to these very clowns. With those gentle sentimentsirradiating her blue eyes, and putting a pink flush upon her fairche
eks, Rose reached the garden with the intention of rushingsympathetically into Mrs. Randolph's arms. But it suddenly occurredto her that she would be obliged to state how she became aware of thismisfortune, and with it came an instinctive aversion to speak of hermeeting with the inventor. She would wait until Mrs. Randolph told her.But although that lady was engaged in a low-voiced discussion in Frenchwith Emile and Adele, which instantly ceased at her approach, there wasno allusion made to the new calamity. "You need not telegraph to yourfather," she said as Rose approached, "he has already telegraphed to youfor news; as you were out, and the messenger was waiting an answer, weopened the