IX
Isabel rose as usual at five, but, instead of dressing at once, stood ather window idly and looked out over the marsh. Thirteen hours before shehad made a decision on the instant, or so it seemed to her, and in thatinstant changed her life so completely that she was still a littledizzy, and the future as yet had taken on no coherent form. She had eventold Gwynne she was positive she could _stand_ him for ever, and this,with her varied if incomplete knowledge of his sex, she took to be evenmore significant and hopeful than the uncompromising sense of lovinghim. No doubt there would be many interesting battles before two suchdeveloped personalities became more or less one, but at least he hadnone of the petty and selfish and altogether detestable qualities of herfather, her uncle, and Lyster Stone; and he was entirely human. And hewas young and she was young. It all seemed very wonderful; wonderful tobe so happy, and yet to feel that she had relinquished nothing, or atleast not the tenth of what she would have lost if she had marriedPrestage--or any other man. If she had not met Gwynne she knew that shenever should have married at all, and, not having had the best withinher ken, been happy enough.
And yet she was a little sad, and it was by no means the gentlemelancholy of reaction. She had reason, and felt a disposition to boxher own ears. She knew that Gwynne, triumphant and happy as he was, hadridden away vaguely dissatisfied. He had turned and given her a keenquestioning glance as he mounted, and had not turned again. She hadlaughed, and waved her hand, and felt a new desire to tantalize him.
She had abandoned herself to sheer happiness the day before, to the merepagan delight in an ardent lover come in her own ardent youth, to thesense of an unbroken circle of companionship, and to so wild a triumphin having brought Gwynne to her feet, made him quite mad about her, thatshe had fairly danced about the room, and tormented him as far as shedared.
This was Wednesday. They were to be married on Saturday, that LadyVictoria, who was leaving for England in the evening, might nod them ablessing. Then, no doubt, Gwynne would have his way in most things, andshe already felt the stirrings of mere female ductility. But meanwhileshe should exercise and enjoy her own power to the full. And she hadgood reason to believe that no woman had ever been more charming,distracting, provocative. If Gwynne had been in love when he came, hehad kissed her very feet when he left, and had been as bewitched asanyone so clear-brained could be. Moreover, she had promised himeverything he wished, agreed without demur to the hasty marriage, andeven, when he asked her whether she would prefer to live in her house orhis, had sweetly left it to him to decide. They were to spend thehoneymoon in the house on Russian Hill. She was incapable of lookingbeyond that. There had been at least twenty bewildering hints that whenhis time came one rein, at least, should be his--in all matters of greatmoment, two--and although no doubt she would break away very often,what more delightful than to recapture and subdue? What more could a manwant than the most fascinating woman in the world, whom only his ownpassion could shock from mere existence into the fulness of life? ButGwynne, in the depths of his swimming brain, had wanted something more,and Isabel knew that if he had slept as ill as herself, the doubt hadmore than once assailed him if she were anything more than a charmingbeautiful and clever creature, save perverse and egotistical; who wouldkeep him distractedly in love with her, but leave the best part of himunsatisfied.
Her perversity had gone with him, and during a more or less wakefulnight she had repented, and even wept at the thought that somethingmight occur to exterminate him before ten o'clock on the followingmorning--when they were to meet again--and he would depart unconsoled bythe knowledge that it was the greater needs in his own nature that hadcalled to hers. At least she hoped this was so, and, in an excess ofhumility, wondered if she really had enough to give--the power to insuretheir complete happiness. She had lived in a sort of fool's paradise,and no doubt imagined herself a far more rounded being than she was.Well, she could grow, and finally she had curled down into her pillowand fallen asleep.
This morning she was rather tired, and although still repentant,suspicious that when he returned her femininity would fly up with herspirits, and she would be more than content to fascinate and bewilderhim. Like all women in love and fumbling blindly through the outermysteries, she was eagerly psychological, discovering once for all hersex and herself.
Her eyes had been fixed dreamily upon Tamalpais, but suddenly they weredrawn irresistibly upward by the pricking consciousness of somethingstrange. It was a moment before she realized that she had never seen asky just like that before. Her back was to the east, and although thesun was rising it was still low; at this stage of the dawn the sky wasgenerally gray. This morning it was a ghastly electric blue. And then,while her eyes were still staring, and something in her brain movingtowards expression, she heard a noise that sounded like the roar ofartillery charging across the world. She fancied it rushing through theGolden Gate and up the bays and marsh, before it hurled itself with avicious and personal violence against the wall beneath her window. Shebraced herself against the sash as the house shook in the strongestearthquake she had ever felt. It appeared to be brief, however, and shewas turning away to dress herself, when it commenced again with a furyand violence of which she had never dreamed the modern earth to becapable. She threw herself on her knees the better to grip thewindow-ledge, but her only sensations were surprise and an intenseexpectation. Electric flames, as blue and ghastly as the reeling sky,were playing all over the marsh, she saw the long bare line of Tamalpaischarge down and up like a colossal seesaw; and in that terrific plungingand dancing, that abrupt leaping from one point of the compass to theopposite, or towards all at once, that hysterical shaking and strugglingas if two planets had rushed from their orbits and were fighting forlife in midspace, Isabel expected the entire globe to stand on end, andwas convinced that the finish of California, at least, had come. She hadread of earthquakes that lasted for hours, and even days, and no doubtthis one was merely getting up steam, for it increased in violence andmomentum every second. The house rattled like a big dice-box. Sheexpected it to leap down the slope into the shivering marsh. Pieces ofrock fell down the face of the cliff opposite, but so great was the roarof the earthquake, so close the sound of creaking and straining timbers,of falling chimneys, and china, and even plaster, that she could nothear the impact as they struck the ground and bounded high in air.
Then, there was a bulge of the earth upward, a twist that seemed towrench the house from its foundations, and the earthquake ceased assuddenly as it had come. Isabel waited a few moments for it to return,incredulous that the mighty forces beneath could compose themselves soabruptly; then rose and began to dress herself.
Human blades of a fine temper meet a sudden and terrific onslaught ofNature in one of two spirits: utter cowardice, or an attitude ofimpersonal curiosity. It is not a matter of heroism but of nerves. Thebravest may become abject, if their will has been weakened by some drainon the nervous system; others, that would run from a mouse or proveunequal to the long-heralded danger, rise, in the intense concentratedexcitement and surprise of the moment, to a state of absolute and evencynical indifference. One of the unwritten laws that has descended fromfather to son in California is that an earthquake, no matter how severe,is a mere joke, and should incite prompt and facetious comment. Isabelbeing both heroic and hardy, paid the California tradition the tributeof a smile and a shrug, and regretted that she had not been in SanFrancisco; she "liked being in the midst of things." Sentiment,psychology, egoism, had literally been bounced out of her. She knew thatGwynne might easily have been killed, but although she intended to findout in the least possible time, to feel merely human in the face of sucha stupendous exhibition of what nature could do when she chose, was adescent of which she, at least, felt herself incapable.
She hurried on her riding-clothes, dropped her braid under her jacket,and ran down the stairs. Chuma, trim and spotless, was sweeping thehall, white with fallen plaster. He gave her his usual good-morning grinand went on with his work. Sh
e paused and regarded him curiously.
"What do you think of our earthquakes?" she demanded.
"Oh, very big shake," he said, cheerfully. "Very big shake."
Vaguely nettled she took her hat from the rack and went out by the backway. Mac had knocked on her door immediately after the earthquake, andwas now with Abe in the colony on the hills. He came running down whenhe saw her, and it was patent that his rheumatism, for once, wasforgotten. His old red face with its prominent bones set in thick sandygray hair was more animated than Isabel had ever seen it.
"Glory be!" he exclaimed, as he reached her. "That was about the worst!I was just tellin' Abe that I felt the great earthquake of '68 in thisvery house, in that very room, by gum, although I was up and dressed,for it was eight o'clock, and I'd gone back for my pipe. So, I know whatI'm talkin' about, Miss Isabel, when I say that this was about fourtimes as bad--"
"Please saddle my horse."
"Yes, marm. Wisht I could have got out of bed. I'd like to have seen ifthe earth rose and fell in a long wave like the shake of '68. Land'ssakes, but those chickens did squawk." And although he saddled Kaiserrapidly, he never paused in his reminiscence of the last NorthernCalifornia earthquake to pass into history. "But this one! By Jiminy!Well, I guess we take the cake in everything out here, earthquakesincluded."
Isabel patted the still shaking horse. "Get the launch ready," she said,as she mounted; and Mac nodded. It was characteristic that neitherthought of the danger of sudden shoals, of the always possible tidalwave, or of some new and diabolical trick of nature. The nerves werestill keyed too high for anything so shabby as prudence.
Kaiser, no doubt glad to put himself into motion, bounded forward as hismistress lifted the bridle, and although Isabel did give an occasionalglance ahead, to make sure the earth was not yawning, she never drewrein, and the horse galloped with all his might towards Rosewater. Asthe marsh narrowed she saw that the town was still there, and that therewere no fires. As she approached the great iron bridge that connectedRosewater with the continuation of the county road, a horseman enteredat its other end and galloped across, regardless of the law or a graverdanger still. The next moment Isabel and Gwynne had shaken handscasually, and were riding towards Old Inn.
His eyes were shining and almost black. "I saw the mountains rock!" heexclaimed. "Rock? Dance. Then I thought they would plunge down into theearth and disappear. And St. Peter is flat. All the business district,including the four hotels, are down, and everybody in them buried in theruins. A man dashed up as I was mounting, and I told all the men on theplace to go to the rescue. The news came just in time to prevent themurder of Imura by Carlos, for not admitting that we had had thegreatest earthquake in the history of the world. It was the firstsymptom of patriotic fire I ever saw in Imura, but he stoutly maintainedthat in the matter of earthquakes Japan could do as well as California."
"That is all very well, but I have read a lot about Japaneseearthquakes, and never of such an _extraordinary_ one as this. Hasanything terrible happened in Rosewater?"
"I saw a few chimneys down, but no buildings except the old brickschool-house. Mrs. Haight was sitting on the curb-stone in hernight-gown, wailing like a banshee, but although all the rest of thetown appeared to be in the streets, and similarly attired, they werequiet enough. As I passed the cemetery I gave it a hasty side glance,half-afraid of what I might see. All the monuments are down and pointingin every direction. What gyrations! Do you suppose they've had it in SanFrancisco?"
"Do I suppose--much you know about our earthquakes! San Francisco alwaysgets the worst of it, or seems to, there is so much more to shake. Yourmother is probably in hysterics, although up on the hills one is safeenough. It is the sandy valley and the made ground down by theferries--up to Montgomery Street, in fact--that get the worst of it. Ihave ordered the launch."
"Good. I wish my mother had gone east from El Paso, as she had half amind to do. But she wanted to see her doctor again. I am afraid shewon't look at this as we do. I never was so interested in my life. Wassure we were going to smash, but that it was worth while in anything sostupendous. I suppose it is too early to telephone."
Isabel pointed to the wires. They were sagging, and two of the telegraphpoles were down. "Doubtless the tracks are twisted, too. We arefortunate to have the launch."