CHAPTER X.--_But Clarence Must Not be Encouraged._
The wharf was over-crowded. The steamer was about to leave. The lastcar-load of baggage had been quickly shipped, and Clarence had not beenable to say a word to Mercedes which might not have been heard by thepersons surrounding her. He was pale and desperate. He had gone on boardthe steamer just to ask her one question, but she had never been alonefor an instant. And thus they must part,--for the embodied "_Fuerza deldestino_" now came in the shape of a boy clanging in deafening clatter amost discordant bell, saying that those who were not going on thesteamer must go ashore. A hurried hand-shaking, and the troop of friendsmarched down the gang-plank to turn round and look many more tenderadieus from the wharf.
Don Mariano had observed Clarence's deathly pallor, and how faithfullyit was reflected on Mercedes' face; he saw the unhappy young manstanding aloof from the crowd on the extreme edge of the wharf. He wentto him, and laying his hand gently on his shoulder, said:
"That position is dangerous--you might lose your balance," and he pulledhim gently away. "You are very pale. I fear, my dear boy, that you aremore troubled than you have admitted to any one. What is it? Tell me."
Clarence shook his head, but suppressing his emotion, said:
"I cannot express my misery. She is sent away that I may not even havethe pleasure of seeing her. No one can love her as I do, impossible!"
"Why have you not spoken to me of this before?" asked Don Mariano,kindly.
"Because I did not dare. I thought of doing so a thousand times, but didnot dare. I did not fear unkindness or rejection from _you_, but fromDona Josefa and the young ladies I did, and I have never had anopportunity to speak alone to Miss Mercedes."
"That was an additional reason for speaking to me. Cheer up. '_Faintheart never won fair lady._'"
"Tell me that again. Say you do not reject me, and I'll jump aboard andfollow her."
"I do not reject you, and I repeat what I said, follow her if you wish,and try your luck. I want to see you both happy, and both of you arevery unhappy."
Clarence looked toward the boat. The gang-plank had been removed.
"What a happy girl you are, Mercedes, to visit New York. How I wish I,too, could go," he heard Corina Holman say.
"Come on, it is not too late yet," George replied.
Clarence looked up, and met Mercedes' eyes. It seemed as if George'swords were intended for him.
He clasped Don Mariano's hand, saying hurriedly:
"If I understand you, I have your permission to go. May I? Tell me'yes.'"
"'_Faint heart never won fair lady_,'" he repeated, smiling, andreturning the warm pressure of his hand, added: "Yes, go and try yourluck."
Clarence turned, and without another word quickly made his way throughthe crowd.
The steamer's wheels began to move; the captain was already on thebridge, over the starboard wheel, and had given the order to let go thehawsers. In another instant the steamer would leave the wharf.
Clarence felt himself pulled by the arm, he turned impatiently, and metEverett, who handed him two telegrams, saying:
"I have looked for you everywhere. These telegrams followed each otherquickly."
"Yes, I know," Clarence said, taking them; adding, without stopping hishurried walking, "Retty, I am going. Tell them at home I got threetelegrams calling me to San Francisco."
"But you haven't read them," urged Everett, trying to follow him.
"But I know what they are; I have another in my pocket."
Lifting his arm with the telegrams in his hand, he said to the captain:
"Captain, one moment. I must go north. Please take me."
The captain did not hear him, and at the same time called out:
"Let go that hawser! Do you want it to snap?"
The crowd ran off, giving a wide berth to the heavy rope, which now, byits own tension, made it impossible to be slipped off the pile, althoughmany pairs of hands were tugging at it manfully.
The stern expression of the captain's face softened as he saw Clarencestanding on the brink of the wharf.
"Step back, Mr. Darrell, quickly, the rope might part," said he; butnoticing that Clarence desired to speak to him, motioned to the firstofficer to take his place, and ran down to hear what Clarence said.
A minute after the steamer stood still for an instant, then the wheelsbegan to revolve in reversed motion.
"There she is, Mr. Darrell; she'll be alongside in a minute," thecaptain said, pleased with the opportunity to oblige Clarence.
And the steamer, propelled by one wheel, began to back as if with theside-long motion of a highly intelligent crab who understood thesituation.
"Read your telegrams," Everett repeated.
"All right--to please you," said Clarence, tearing them open. Adding,after reading a few words, "It is as I expected. I am wanted by Hubert.Send him a dispatch to-night saying I left, and to accept M.'s offer,and pay the money at once."
"Now, Mr. Darrell, come on," the captain said.
Hurriedly Clarence shook hands with Don Mariano, Gabriel, Everett andVictoriano.
"Take care, jump in on the downward swing, when about on a level withthe wharf," said Gabriel.
Clarence nodded, gave him his hand, and planting his foot firmly on thewharf, gave one spring, and wiry as a cat, alighted on the steamerbeside the captain, who hugged him, saying:
"Bravo, my boy, I could have done that twenty years ago."
Don Mariano and Gabriel lifted their hats in congratulatory salutation;Victoriano and Everett twirled theirs in the air hurrahing; the ladieswaved their handkerchiefs, and the steamer giving a dip and a plunge--byway of a very low courtesy--bounded up and started onwards, as ifsatisfied she had been good natured long enough, and now must attend tobusiness. In a few minutes she had made up for lost time, and washeading for Ballast Point, leaving San Diego's shore to be merged intothe blue hills of Mexico beyond, as if obeying the immutable law whichsays that all things must revert to their original source.
Elvira's beautiful eyes were so filled with tears that she could seenothing. Still, she kept her gaze riveted upon that fast receding wharf.George stood a few feet apart, prudently thinking that the two sisterswould perhaps prefer to be by themselves while taking their last look atthe dear ones standing on the wharf. He, too, felt much moved; he wouldhave preferred to remain with his family at Alamar. He would come nextyear--he thought--and perhaps remain in California permanently. Withthis thought in his mind, almost shaped into resolve, he came toElvira's side, and quietly slipping his arm round her waist, said:
"Don't cry, sweetest, I will bring you back next year, and we will makeour home near our parents. No matter if I make less money, we will havemore happiness."
Elvira looked unutterable thanks.
"Do you hear him, Mercedes?" she said, and Mercedes nodded, but moved alittle further off, not yet trusting her voice to make any reply.
"Look here, this won't do; this will spoil our blue eyes," said George,putting his other arm around Mercedes' pretty shoulders. "I insist uponyou turning your thoughts toward New York, Long Branch, Newport andWashington; think of all the fun we will have visiting all those places.Then we will come back gay and happy, and our dear ones will be so gladto see us again. Think of all that," and thus George exerted hiseloquence to administer consolation. "I am sure all at home will bethinking of our return by to-morrow morning," he added, by way of climaxto his consoling rhetoric.
But George was mistaken. The Alamar ladies found it very hard anddifficult to reconcile themselves to be separated from Elvira andMercedes.
The fact that Clarence had gone in the same steamer, added muchbitterness to Dona Josefa's sorrow at separating from both daughters.She did not even wish any one to mention Clarence's name in herpresence. Don Mariano's arguments in favor of the bold young man were atfirst ineffectual, but after a while she began to think that she oughtto trust more in Mercedes' pride and Elvira's vigilance.
In the meanti
me the travelers continued their voyage very happily.Clarence rightly conjectured that Mercedes would suppose he had followedher to declare his love, and this supposition would redouble hershyness. Her manner at first, fully confirmed this surmise, so, to puther at her ease, he was very kind and attentive, but never betrayed byword or look, his heart's devotion. His manner was exactly all that shecould wish, the behavior of a devoted brother, and in consequence shebegan to be less shy. He spoke of having received three telegrams,calling him north; this surely was a good reason for his unexpectedjourney.
They visited Los Angeles, went ashore at Port Harford and Santa Barbara,and as George was naturally devoted to his bride, there seemed noalternative for Mercedes but to accept Clarence's escort, and lean onhis arm whenever that operation became necessary.
The nights were lovely, with a full moon in the azure sky, and the seaair, neither cold nor warm, but of that California temperature, whichseems to invite people to be happy, giving to all an idea of the perfectwell-being we expect to find in the hereafter.
There was a great deal of freight to be landed at Santa Barbara. Thepassengers going to San Francisco were already on board. Still thesteamer tarried. Some lady friends of Elvira, who were going north hadcome aboard, and as they had much to say, took her away to theirstaterooms.
"Wait for me here, I'll return in half an hour," said she to George; buthe thought he knew how ladies measure time when engaged in talking, sohe slowly arose and said he would go to play cribbage with the captain.
The steamer now shivered and trembled, as if awakening from a nice nap.The wheels revolved lazily and then she was off, dragging a luminouswake of myriads of evanescent diamonds.
"If you wish to go, Mr. Darrell, please do so; do not remain on myaccount," said Mercedes, when George rose to go.
"Not at all. I remain entirely on my own, as I do not particularlydesire to play cut-throat cribbage, and as it is too early for you toretire, suppose you permit me to remain until your sister returns."
"Certainly, do so, else I'll stay," said George, going.
"Have I offended you in any way?" Clarence asked.
"No, of course not. What a question. What makes you ask that?"
"Because you must know it would be cruel punishment to send me off."
"I didn't think anything of the kind, only I didn't wish to be selfishand keep you from going if you wished it."
"How could I wish to go anywhere and leave you; I would not go toheaven, if to do so I would have to renounce you."
"Please do not talk like that, some one might hear you."
"There is not a soul within hearing. Our only witness is that lovelymoon, and she will not betray."
"No matter, please do not speak like that."
"Like what? That I love you? I have never yet said it in words, but youknow it."
"Oh! Mr. Darrell!"
"Yes, you know it, and to avoid me you are going away; going from me, nomatter if it killed me."
"It is not my choice, I only obey," said she, clasping her tremblinghands, now cold as ice.
"Is it so? Did you not wish to avoid me?"
"Please do not ask me, you'll make me very miserable."
"I would not cause you one single pang, if to avoid it I had to die.Believe me, all I wish to know is, whether I have been so blind as notto see your dislike; whether it was your own choice to go, or you werecompelled to do so by your mother?"
"Please don't blame mamma."
"I do not blame her in the least. She has a perfect right to object tome if she wishes, but I too, have at least, the sad privilege of askingwhether you also object to me?"
"I have nothing against you; I like you very much, as--as a friend," shesaid, trembling, painfully agitated.
Clarence laughed a hoarse, discordant laugh that made her feelmiserable.
"I have been told that young ladies say that always, when they mean tolet down easily a poor devil whom they pity and perhaps despise. Thanks,Miss Mercedes, for liking me 'as a friend,' thank you. Perhaps I am apresumptuous fool to love you, but love you I must, for I can not helpit."
He stood up and looked down at the dark ocean in silence. She looked upto his face and her beautiful features looked so pleadingly sad, that heforgot his own misery and thought only of the pain those superb eyesrevealed.
He seated himself very near her, and took both of her hands in his own.Surely there was something troubling her.
"How cold these dear little hands are. Have I caused you pain?" heasked. She nodded but did not speak.
"Yes, I have pained you, when I would give my heart's blood to make youhappy. Oh! Mercedes, I cannot give you up, it is impossible while Ilive. Do you command me to do so? Do you wish it? You know that I haveloved you from the first moment I saw you; when I lifted you in my arms.The exquisite pleasure I felt then, and the yearning I have felt eversince, to hold you in my arms again, as my own sweet wife, that longingtells me incessantly that I can never love any one else; that I must winyou or renounce love forever on earth. Tell me, will you cruelly repelme?"
She was silent, listening with averted face, as if afraid to meet hisgaze, but she did not withdraw her hands, which he still held in bothhis own, as if he would never willingly release them again.
"Mercedes, say that you reject me only to obey your mother, and I willnot despair, for I know that your father does not object to me; on thecontrary, he sanctions my love, he would accept me as his son-in-law."
She turned quickly, gazed at him with an eager, inquiring look.
"Yes, he gave me permission to follow you and ask you to be my wife."
"What? He? My papa did that?"
"Yes. When he saw me looking so wretched with the pain of parting fromyou, he said to me, 'Cheer up; faint heart never won fair lady.' I saidto him, if you tell me that in earnest, I'll jump aboard the steamer andfollow her. He repeated the quotation, adding: 'Go and try your luck.'Is not that sufficient?"
"Darling papa, he is so kind," she said, eluding Clarence's question,but her evident gratitude toward her father spoke volumes.
"Indeed he is. His heart is full of nobility. He does not permit unjustprejudices to influence him into dislikes."
"You must not blame my poor mamma. She thinks you did some wrong act,but she is not prejudiced against you, nor does she dislike you."
"I did some wrong act? What is it? When?"
"That I couldn't tell you, for I do not know, and perhaps I am wrong tohave said so much. But I spoke because it was painful to me to thinkthat you believe my own loving, lovely mamma prejudiced, for she is not.She might be mistaken, but she is kindness itself."
Clarence mentally demurred to this warm praise, but wisely held hispeace.
"Promise me you will not think mamma is prejudiced," said she, withoutthe least suspicion of the tyranny, the unreasonableness of such arequest.
"I promise it, of course, if you desire it, but I would at the sametime, like to know what is the _wrong_ act of which I am accused, thathas brought upon me her censure. I assure you I have not the slightestidea; I think my record as an honest man can well bear scrutiny. Can itbe that I have made money in mining stocks?"
"Oh, no. She does not know that, and if she did, she would not think itwrong, for she knows nothing about stocks."
"Then I vow I have not the remotest idea of what it is."
"Think no more about it now, and when you return, you ask papa. He willsoon find out the mistake and vindicate you."
"Yes, he will do so I am sure. I would blindly trust my life and honorin his hands," said he, warmly, and quick as a flash came his reward,for she pressed his hands most gratefully. "Ah! Mercedes why did you dothat?" The poor young man was trying to make up his mind not to presshis suit until he had been vindicated, and Dona Josefa had nothingagainst him. But that pressure made him ambitious, impatient; he wishedto have some promise that she would not accept any one else's suit. Shewas going from him, out of his sight. He was certain that dozens, yeshundreds, wo
uld fall in love with her as soon as they saw her. Would shenot love some one? It would be natural to prefer to him, some of thoseelegant New Yorkers, or some fascinating foreigner whom she might meetin Washington. This thought made him wretched.
"I'm so glad you appreciate papa," said she, withdrawing her hands,which she considered he had held long enough. Noticing that he lookedtroubled, and that his hand trembled, she added: "I fear I have beenindiscreet, and have caused you pain by what I said; if so, I am verysorry. Have I pained you?"
"I have never done anything dishonorable. I can prove that to DonaJosefa at any time. But"--he broke off, and after a paused, added: "Oh!Mercedes! how wretched I shall be, thinking that you might love some oneelse. Is not your refusal to give me any encouragement a proof that youfeel you never can care for me?"
"Please don't say that. I do care for you. That is, I mean, I ought notto tell you so, but--but"--she did not finish, for the rash young manhad again seized her little hands, and was covering them with kisses,forgetting that any passenger had the right to come and sit there on thesame bench to enjoy the silvery moonlight, sailing over the broad,sublime Pacific.
"Oh! Mr. Darrell! Don't do that. Please let us go now to call Elvira.She thinks George is with me," she said, rising.
"We don't want Elvira, we don't want George. Let them be. Why do yougrudge me this happiness of being alone with you for the first and,perhaps, for the last time in my life? Please sit down. I will behavemyself. I will not kiss your hands, I promise; but won't you reward myself-restraint by answering one question?"
"What is the question?" said she, sitting down again, only a littlefurther off; "tell me, and then we must go to find Elvira."
"I want you to tell me--I mean, I beg and entreat you to tell methis--if I can prove that I have never done anything dishonorable, andyour mother ceases to object to my marrying you, will you then consentto be my wife?"
The question gave Mercedes exquisite pleasure, for she loved him withall her heart. The word wife soundly so sweetly coming from his lips,but she had promised her mother "_not to encourage him_." So she mustnot. It would be dishonorable to break her word. What could she say, notto make him unhappy, and yet not commit the sin of disobedience to hermother's command?
She looked down, and her expressive features again showed that she wastroubled.
"Oh! I was mistaken. Your silence tells me I cannot hope."
"Do not be impatient, please. I was trying to think how I could explainto you my position."
"Your position?"
"Yes. How much what papa said to you might alter things. But I cannotsee how I can say anything to you, except to be patient. Yes, let usboth be patient."
"Patience and despair do not travel together."
"Discard despair, and trust to patience, and"--she was going to say,"trust me," but remembered her mother's commands, and that to say somuch even would be _to encourage him_. She was silent. She could haverejected an offer of marriage easily without taking away all hope, butas she "_must not encourage him_," that was the most difficult dilemmafor the poor girl. "Trust to papa, and--and do not be blaming me in yourheart. I cannot bear that."
"I shall not blame you. I shall do whatever you order me. But at alltimes I do not understand you," said he, sadly.
"It is because my position is so--so difficult, so unnatural. I wish youcould understand it without my explaining it. Can't you?"
"I'll try," said he, in most dejected tones, again thinking of theelegant New Yorkers, and fascinating Washingtonians, on their kneesbefore her. "But I do not understand why you refuse me one word ofencouragement."
"Oh! that is just _the word_ I cannot give," she sighed.
"This is all the work of Dona Josefa," thought he, and the form of thehandsome matron seemed to rise before him from the billows of thePacific, and stand with Juno's lofty majesty in severe impassibilitybefore his sad gaze.
Mercedes, too, was looking at the immense sea, as if trying to discoverin that vast expanse some consoling words that a good, obedient daughtermight speak on such an occasion.