THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 SOUfHERiM BRANCH 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 LOS ANGELES. CALIF. 
 
 I
 
 *
 
 7ooe
 
 Stretching out her hands to me, and with a little moan, she said: 
 *'Take me to him." Page 83. 
 
 — Black Rock.
 
 Connor, Ralph 
 Black Rock, 
 
 1180-4 
 
 ^^587
 
 pp. 
 
 
 BLACK ROCK. 
 
 The story of the book is true, and chief of the 
 failures in the making of the book is this, that it is 
 not all the truth. The light is not bright enough, 
 the shadow is not black enough to give a true pict- 
 ure of that bit of Western life of which the writer 
 was some small part. The men of the book are still 
 there in the mines and lumber camps of the moun- 
 tains, fighting out that eternal fight for manhood, 
 strong, clean, God-conquered. And when the 
 west winds blow, to the open ear the sounds of 
 battle come, telling the fortunes of the fight. 
 
 Because a man's life is all he has, and because 
 the only hope of the brave young West lies in its 
 men, this story is told. It may be that the 
 tragic pity of a broken life may move some to 
 pray, and that that divine power there is in a 
 single brave heart to summon forth hope and cour- 
 age may move some to fight. If so, the tale is 
 not told in vain. 
 
 C. W. G. 
 
 iU
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 I THINK have met " Ralph Connor." Indeed, 
 I am sure I have — once in a canoe on the Red 
 River, once on the Assinaboine, and twice or 
 thrice on the prairies to the west. That was not 
 the name he gave me, but, if I am right, it covers 
 one of the most honest and genial of the strong 
 characters that are hghting the devil and doing- 
 good work for men all over the world. He has 
 seen with his own eyes the life which he describes 
 in this book, and has himself, for some years of 
 hard and lonely toil, assisted in the good influ- 
 ences which he traces among its wild and often 
 hopeless conditions. He writes with the fresh- 
 ness and accuracy of an eyewitness, with the 
 style (as 1 think his readers will allow) of a real 
 artist, and with the tenderness and hopefulness 
 of a man not only of faith, but of experience, 
 who has seen in fulfilment the ideal for which he 
 lives. 
 
 The life to which he takes us, though far off 
 and very strange to our tame minds, is the life of
 
 vi Introduction. 
 
 our brothers. Into the Northwest of Canada the 
 young men of Great Britain and Ireland have 
 been pouring (I was told), sometimes at the rate 
 of forty-eight thousand a year. Our brothers 
 who left home yesterday — our hearts cannot but 
 follow them. With these pages Ralph Connor 
 enables our eyes and our minds to follow, too ; 
 nor do I think there is any one who shall read 
 this book and not find also that his conscience is 
 quickened. There is a warfare appointed unto 
 man upon earth, and its struggles are nowhere 
 more intense, nor the victories of the strong nor 
 the succors brought to the fallen more heroic, than 
 on the fields described in this volume. 
 
 Geokge Adam Smith.
 
 CONTENl'S. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Christmas Eve in a Lumber Camp ... 9 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 The Black Rock Christmas 88 
 
 CHAPTER ni. 
 Waterioo. Our Fight— His Victory 88 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Mrs. Mavor's Story W 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Making of the League.. W 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 Black Rock Religion 104 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 The First Black Rock Commtmion 110 
 
 CHAPTER Vm. 
 The Breaking of the League 184 
 
 CHAPTER E. 
 
 The League's Revenge 188 
 
 9
 
 8 Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PAOS 
 
 What CSame to Slavin 170 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 The Two Calls 105 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 Love Is Not All S13 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 How Nelson Came Home 225 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Graeme's New Birth 237 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 Coming to Their Own. 256
 
 BLACK ROCK, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 CHRISTMAS EVE IN A I.ITMBER CAMP. 
 
 It was due to a mysterious dispensation ol 
 Providence and a good deal to Leslie Graeme 
 that I found myself in the heart of the Selkirks 
 for my Christmas eve as the year 1882 was dying. 
 It had been my plan to spend my Christmas far 
 away in Toronto, with such bohemian and boon 
 companions as could be found in that cosmopol- 
 itan and kindly city. But Leslie Graeme changed 
 all that, for, discovering me in the village of 
 Black Eock, with my traps all packed, waiting 
 for the stage to start for the Landing, thirty 
 miles away, he bore down upon me with resist- 
 less force, and I found myself recovering from my 
 surprise only after we had gone in his lumber 
 sleigh some six miles on our way to his camp up 
 in the mountains. I was surprised and much 
 
 9
 
 10 Black Rock. 
 
 delighted, though I would not allow hira to think 
 so, to find that his old-time power over me was 
 still there. He could always in the old 'varsity 
 days — dear, wild days — make me do what he 
 liked, lie was so handsome and so reckless, bril- 
 liant in his class work, and the prince of half- 
 backs on the liugby field, and with such power 
 of fascination as would " extract the heart out of 
 a wheelbarrow," as Barney Lundy used to say. 
 And thus it was that I found myself just three 
 weeks later — I was to have spent two or three 
 days — on the afternoon of December 24, stand- 
 ing in Graeme's Lumber Camp No. 2, wondering 
 at myself. But I did not regret my changed 
 plans, for in those three weeks 1 had raided a 
 cinnamon bear's den and had wakened up a griz- 
 zly But I shall let the grizzly finish the 
 
 tale ; he probably sees more humor in it than I. 
 The camp stood in a little clearing, and con- 
 sisted of a group of three long, low shanties with 
 smaller shacks near them, all built of heavy, un- 
 hewn logs, with door and window in each. The 
 grub camp, with cook-shed attached, stood in the 
 middle of the clearing ; at a little distance was 
 the sleeping camp with the office built against 
 it, and about a hundred yards away on the other 
 side of the clearing stood the stables, and near 
 them the smiddy. The mountains rose grandly on
 
 Black Rock. ii 
 
 every side, throwing up their great peaks into 
 the sky. The clearing in which the camp stood 
 was hewn out of a dense pine forest that filled 
 the valley and climbed half way up the mountain 
 sides and then frayed out in scattered and 
 stunted trees. 
 
 It was one of those wonderful Canadian winter 
 days, bright, and with a touch of sharpness in the 
 air that did not chill, but waj-med the blood like 
 draughts of wine. The men were up in the 
 woods, and the shrill scream of the blueja; flash- 
 ing across the open, the impudent chatter of the 
 red squirrel from the top of the grub camp, and 
 the pert chirp of the whisky-jack, hopping about 
 on the rubbish-heap, with the long, lone cry of 
 the wolf far down the valley, only made the 
 silence felt the more. 
 
 As I stood drinking in with all my soul the 
 glorious beauty and the silence of mountain and 
 forest, with the Christmas feeling stealing into 
 me, Graeme came out from his office, and, catch- 
 ing siirht of me, called out : " Glorious Christmas 
 weather, old chap ! " And then, coming nearer : 
 " Must you go to-morrow ? " 
 
 " I fear so," I replied, knowing well that the 
 Christmas feeling was on him too. 
 
 " I wish I were going with you," he said 
 quietly.
 
 12 Black Rock. 
 
 I turned eagerly to persuade him, but at the 
 look of suffering in his face the words died at my 
 lips, for we both were thinking of the awful night 
 of horror when all his bright, brilliant life crashed 
 down about him in black ruin and shame. I 
 could only throw my arm over his shoulder and 
 stand silent beside him. A sudden jingle of bells 
 roused him, and, giving himself a little shake, he 
 exclaimed : " There are the boys coming home." 
 
 Soon the camp was filled with men talking, 
 laughing, chaffing like light-hearted boys. 
 
 " They are a little wild to-night," said Graeme, 
 " and to-morrow they'll paint Black Rock red." 
 
 Before many minutes had gone the last team- 
 ster was " washed up," and all were standing about 
 waiting impatiently for the cook's signal — the 
 supper to-night was to be " something of a feed " 
 — when the sound of bells drew their attention 
 to a light sleigh drawn by a buckskin broncho 
 coming down the hillside at a great pace. 
 
 " The preacher, I'll bet, by his driving," said 
 one of the men. 
 
 " Bedad, and it's him has the foine nose for 
 turkey ! " said Blaney, a good-natured, jovial 
 Irishman. 
 
 " Yes, or for pay-day, more like," said Keefe, a 
 black-browed, villainous fellow-countrvman of 
 Blaney's and, strange to say, his great friend.
 
 Black Rock. 13 
 
 Big Sandy McNaughton, a Canadian High- 
 lander from Glengarry, rose up in wrath. 
 
 " Bill Keefe," said he with deliberate emphasis, 
 " you'll just keep your dirty tongue off the min- 
 ister ; and as for your pay, it's little he sees of it, 
 or any one else except Mike Slavin, when you's 
 too dry to wait for some one to treat you, or 
 perhaps Father Ryan, when the fear of hell-fire 
 is on you." 
 
 The men stood amazed at Sandy's sudden anger 
 and length of speech. 
 
 " Bon, Dat's good for you, my bully boy," 
 said Baptiste, a wiry little French-Canadian, 
 Sandy's sworn ally and devoted admirer ever 
 since the day when the big Scotsman, under great 
 provocation, had knocked him clean off the dump 
 into the river and then jumped in for him. 
 
 It was not till afterward I learned the cause of 
 Sandy's sudden wrath which urged him to such 
 unwonted length of speech. It was not simply 
 that the Presbyterian blood carried with it re- 
 verence for the minister and contempt for Papists 
 and Fenians, but that he had a vivid remem- 
 brance of how, only a month ago, the minister 
 had got him out of Mike Slavin's saloon and out 
 of the clutches of Keefe and Slavin and their gang 
 of blood-suckers. 
 
 Keefe started up with a curse. Baptiste sprang
 
 14 Black Rock. 
 
 to Sandy's side, slapped him on the back, and 
 called out: 
 
 " You keel hira, I'll hit [eat] him up, me." 
 
 It looked as if there might be a fight, when a 
 harsh voice said in a lovr, savage tone : 
 
 " Stop your row, you blank fools ; settle it, if 
 you want to, somewhere else." 
 
 I turned, and was amazed to see old man Nel- 
 son, who was very seldom moved to speech. 
 
 There was a look of scorn on his hard, iron- 
 gray face, and of such settled fierceness as made 
 me quite believe the tales I had heard of his 
 deadly fights in the mines at the coast. Before 
 any reply could be made the minister drove up 
 and called out in a cheery voice : 
 
 " Merry Christmas, boys ! Hello, Sandy ! 
 Comment ga va, Baptiste ? How do you do, Mr. 
 Graeme ? " 
 
 " First rate. Let me introduce my friend, Mr. 
 Connor, sometime medical student, now artist, 
 hunter, and tramp at large, but not a bad sort." 
 
 " A man to be envied," said the minister, smil- 
 ing. " I am glad to know any friend of Mr. 
 Graeme's." 
 
 I liked Mr. Craig from the first. He had good 
 eyes that looked straight out at you, a clean-cut, 
 strong face well set on his shoulders, and alto- 
 gether an upstanding, manly bearing. He insisted
 
 Black Rock. 15 
 
 on going with Sandy to tlie stables to see Dandy, 
 his broncho, put up. 
 
 " Decent fellow," said Graeme ; " but though 
 he is good enough to his broncho, it is Sandy 
 that's in his mind now." 
 
 " Does he come out often ? I mean, are you 
 part of his parish, so to speak ? " 
 
 '* I have no doubt he thinks so ; and I'm blowed 
 if he doesn't make the Presbyterians of us think 
 so too." And he added after a pause : " A dandy 
 lot of parishioners we are for any man. There's 
 Sandy, now, he would knock Keefe's head oif as 
 a kind off religious exercise ; but to-morrow 
 Keefe will be sober and Sandy will be drunk as a 
 lord, and the drunker he is the better Presbyte- 
 rian he'll be, to the preacher's disgust." Then 
 after another pause he added bitterly : " But it is 
 not for me to throw rocks at Sandy. I am not 
 the same kind of fool, but I am a fool of several 
 other sorts." 
 
 Then the cook came out and beat a tattoo on 
 the bottom of a dish-pan. Baptiste answered with 
 a yell. But though keenly hungry, no man 
 would demean himself to do other than walk with 
 apparent reluctance to his place at the table. At 
 the further end of the camp was a big fireplace, 
 and from the door to the fireplace extended the 
 long board tables, covered with platters of turkey
 
 i6 Black Rock. 
 
 not too scientifically carved, dishes of potatoes^ 
 bowls of apple sauce, plates of butter, pies, and 
 smaller dishes distributed at regular intervals. 
 Two lanterns hanging from the roof and a row of 
 candles stuck into the wall on either side by 
 means of slit sticks cast a dim, weird light over 
 the scene. 
 
 There was a moment's silence, and at a nod 
 from Graeme Mr. Craig rose and said : 
 
 " I don't know how you feel about it, men, but 
 to me this looks good enough to be thankful for." 
 
 '' Fire ahead, sir," called out a voice quite res- 
 pectfully, and the minister bent his head and said : 
 
 " For Christ the Lord who came to save us, for 
 all the love and goodness we have known, and 
 for these Thy gifts to us this Christmas night, 
 our Father, make us thankful. Amen." 
 
 " Bon. Dat's fuss rate," said Baptiste. " Seems 
 lak dat's make me hit [eat] more better for sure.'* 
 And then no word was spoken for a quarter of 
 an hour. The occasion was far too solemn and 
 moments too precious for anything so empty as 
 words. But when the white piles of bread and 
 the brown piles of turkey had for a second time 
 vanished, and after the last pie had disappeared, 
 there came a pause and a hush of expectancy, 
 whereupon the cook and cookee, each bearing 
 aloft a huge, blazing pudding, came forth.
 
 Black Rock. 17 
 
 " Hooray ! " yelled Blaney ; *' up wid yez ! " 
 and grabbing the cook by the shoulders from be- 
 hind, he faced him about. 
 
 Mr. Craig was the first to respond, and seizing 
 the cookee in the same way called out : " Squad, 
 fall in ! quick march ! " In a moment every man 
 was in the procession. 
 
 " Strike up, Batchees, ye little angel ! " shouted 
 Blaney, the appellation a concession to the min- 
 ister's presence ; and away went Baptiste in a 
 rollicking French song with the English chorus — 
 
 " Then blow, ye winds, in the morning. 
 Blow, ye winds, ay oh ! 
 Blow, ye winds, in the morning, 
 Blow, blow, blow." 
 
 And at each " blow " every boot came down 
 with a thump on the plank floor that shook the 
 solid roof. After the second round Mr. Craig 
 jumped upon the bench and called out : 
 
 " Three cheers for Billy the cook ! " 
 
 In the silence following the cheers Baptiste 
 was heard to say : 
 
 " Bon ! Dat's mak me feel lak hit dat pud- 
 din' all hup raeself, me." 
 
 " Hear till the little baste ! " said Blaney in 
 disgust. 
 
 " Batchees," remonstrated Sandy gravely, 
 "ye've more stomach than manners."
 
 1 8 Black Rock. 
 
 '•Fu sure! but de more stomach, dat's more 
 better for dis puddin'," replied the little French- 
 man cheerfully. 
 
 After a time the tables were cleared and 
 pushed back to the wall and pipes were produced. 
 In all attitudes suggestive of comfort the men 
 disposed themselves in a wide circle about the 
 fire, which now roared and crackled up the great 
 wooden chimney hanging from the roof. The 
 lumberman's hour of bliss had arrived. Even old 
 man Nelson looked a shade less melancholv than 
 usual as he sat alone, well away from the fire, 
 smoking steadily and silently. "When the second 
 pipes were well a-going one of the men took 
 down a violin from the wall and handed it to 
 Lachlan Campbell. There were two brothers 
 Campbell just out from Argyll, t^^pical High- 
 landers : Lachlan, dark, silent, melancholy, with 
 the face of a mystic, and Angus, red-haired, quick, 
 impulsive, and devoted to his brother, a devotion 
 he thought proper to cover under biting, sarcastic 
 speech. 
 
 Lachlan, after much protestation, interposed 
 with gibes from his brother, took the violin, and 
 in response to the call from all sides struck up 
 " Lord Macdonajd's Reel." In a moment the 
 floor was filled with dancers, whooping and 
 cracking their fingers in the wildest manner.
 
 Black Rock. 19 
 
 Then Baptiste did the " Red River Ji^''," a most 
 intricate and difficult series of steps, the men 
 keeping time to the music with hands and feet. 
 
 "When the jig was finished Sandy called for 
 " Lochaber No More," but Campbell said : 
 
 " No ! no ! I cannot play that to-night. "Mr. 
 Craig will play." 
 
 Craig took the violin, and at the first note I 
 knew he was no ordinary player. I did not rec- 
 ognize the music, but it was soft and thrilling, 
 and got in by the heart till every one was think- 
 ing his tenderest and saddest thoughts. 
 
 After he had played two or three exquisite bits 
 he gave Campbell his violin, saying, " Now, 
 ' Lochaber,' Lachlan." 
 
 "Without a word Lachlan began, not " Loch- 
 aber " — he w^as not ready for that yet — but " The 
 Flowers o' the Forest," and from that wandered 
 through " Auld Robin Gray " and " The Land o' 
 the Leal," and so got at last to that most soul- 
 subduing of Scottish laments, "Lochaber No 
 More." At the first strain his brother, who had 
 thrown himself on some blankets behind the fire, 
 turned over on his face feigning sleep. Sand}'- 
 M'Naughton took his pipe out of his mouth and 
 sat up straight and stiff, staring into vacancy, and 
 G.^'aeme, beyond the fire, drew a short, sharp ( 
 breath. We had often sat, Graeme and I, in our \
 
 20 Black Rock, 
 
 student days, in the drawing-room at home, listen- 
 ing to his father wailing out " Lochaber " upon 
 the pipes, and I well knew that the awful minor 
 strains were now eating their way into his soul. 
 
 Over and over again the Highlander played his 
 lament. He had long since forgotten us, and was 
 seeing visions of the hills and lochs and glens of 
 his far-away native land, and making us, too, see 
 strange things out of the dim past. I glanced at 
 old man IS'elson, and was startled at the eager, 
 almost piteous look in his eyes, and I wished 
 Campbell would stop, Mr. Craig caught my eye, 
 and stepping over to Campbell held out his hand 
 for the violin, Lingeringly and lovingly the 
 Highlander drew out the last strain and silently 
 gave the minister his instrument. 
 
 Without a moment's pause, and while the spell 
 of " Lochaber " was still upon us, the ministerj 
 with exquisite skill, fell into the refrain of that 
 simple and beautiful camp-meeting hymn, " The 
 Sweet By-and-By." After playing the verse 
 through once he sang softly the refrain. After 
 the first verse the men joined in the chorus ; at 
 first timidly, but by the time the third verse was 
 reached they were shouting with throats full open, 
 " "VVe shall meet on that beautiful shore." When 
 I looked at Kelson the eager light had gone out 
 of his eyes, and in its place was a kind of deter 
 
 f
 
 Black Rock. ^I 
 
 mined hopelessness, as if in this new music he had 
 no part. 
 
 After the voices had ceased Mr. Craig played 
 again the refrain, more and more softly and 
 slowly; then laying the violin on Campbell's knees, 
 he drew from his pocket his little Bible and said: 
 
 " Men, with Mr. Graeme's permission I want 
 to read you something this Christmas eve. You 
 will all have heard it before, but you will like it 
 none the less for that." 
 
 His voice was soft, but clear and penetrating, 
 as he read the eternal story of the angels and the 
 shepherds and the Babe. And as he read, a slight 
 motion of the hand or a glance of an eye made us 
 see, as he was seeing, that whole radiant drama. 
 The wonder, the timid joy, the tenderness, the 
 mystery of it all, were borne in upon us w^ith 
 overpowering effect. He closed the book, and in 
 the same low, clear voide went on to tell us how, 
 in his home years ago, he used to stand on Christ- 
 mas eve listening in thrilling delight to his mother 
 telling him the story, and how she used to make 
 him see the shepherds and hear the sheep bleat- 
 ing near by, and how the sudden burst of glory 
 used to make his heart jump. 
 
 "I used to be a little afraid of the angels, be- 
 cause a boy told me they were ghosts ; but ray 
 mother told me better, and I didn't fear them any
 
 22 Black Rock. 
 
 more. And the Baby, the clear little Baby — we 
 all love a baby," There was a quick, dry sob ; 
 it was from Nelson. " I used to peek through 
 under to see the little one in the straw, and wonder 
 what things swaddling clothes were. Oh, it was 
 so real and so beautiful ! " He paused, and I 
 could hear the men breathing. 
 
 " But one Christmas eve," he went on in a 
 lower, sweeter tone, " there was no one to tell me 
 the story, and I grew to forget it and went away 
 to college, and learned to think that it was only 
 a child's tale and was not for men. Then bad 
 days came to me and worse, and I began to lose 
 my grip of myself, of life, of hope, of goodness, 
 till one black Christmas, in the slums of a far- 
 away city, when I had given up all and the devil's 
 arms were about me, I heard the story again. 
 And as I listened, with a bitter ache in my heart 
 — for I had put it all behind me — I suddenly 
 found myself peeking under the shepherds' arms 
 with a child's wonder at the Baby in the straw. 
 Then it came over me like great waves that His 
 name was Jesus, because it was He that should 
 save men from their sins. Save ! Save ! The 
 waves kept beating upon my ears, and before I 
 knew I had called out, ' Oh ! can He save me ? ' 
 It was in a little mission meeting on one of the 
 side streets, and they seemed to be used to that
 
 Black Rock. 23 
 
 sort of thing there, for no one was surprised ; and 
 a young fellow leaned across the aisle to me and 
 said : ' Why, you just bet He can ! ' His surprise 
 that I should doubt, his bright face and confident 
 tone, gave me hope that perhaps it might be so. 
 I held to that hope with all my soul, and " — 
 stretching up his arms, and Avith a quick glow in 
 his face and a little break in his voice — " He 
 hasn't failed me yet ; not once, not once ! " 
 
 He stopped quite short, and I felt a good deal 
 like making a fool of myself, for in those days I 
 had not made up my mind about these things. 
 Graeme, poor old chap, was gazing at him with a 
 sad yearning in his dark eyes ; big Sandy was sit- 
 ting very stiff and staring harder than ever into 
 the fire ; Baptiste was trembling with excitement ; 
 Blaney was openly wiping the tears away. But 
 the face that held my eyes was that of old man 
 Nelson. It was white, fierce, hungry -looking, 
 his sunken eyes burning, his lips parted as if to 
 cry. The minister went on. 
 
 " I didn't mean to tell you this, men ; it all 
 came over me with a rush ; but it is true, every 
 word, and not a word will 1 take back. And, 
 what's more, I can tell you this : what He did for 
 me He can do for any man, and it doesn't make 
 any difference what's behind him, and " — leaning 
 slightly forward, and with a little thrill of pathos
 
 54 Black Rock. 
 
 vibrating in his voice — " oh, boys, why don't you 
 give Him a chance at you ? "Without Him you'll 
 never be the men you want to be, and you'll 
 never get the better of that that's keeping some 
 of you now from going back home. You know 
 you'll never go back till you're the men you want 
 to be." Then, lifting up his face and throwing 
 back his head, he said, as if to himself, " Jesus ! 
 He shall save His people from their sins," and 
 then, " Let us pray." 
 
 Graeme leaned forward with his face in his 
 hands ; Baptiste and Blaney dropped on their 
 knees ; Sandy, the Campbells, and some others 
 stood up. Old man Nelson held his eye steadily 
 on the minister. 
 
 Only once before had I seen that look on a 
 human face. A young fellow had broken through 
 the ice on the river at home, and as the black 
 water was dragging his fingers one by one from 
 the slippery edges, there came over his face that 
 same look. I used to wake up for many a night 
 after in a sweat of horror, seeing the white face 
 with its parting lips and its piteous, dumb appeal, 
 and the black water slowly sucking it down. 
 
 Nelson's face brought it all back ; but during 
 the prayer the face changed and seemed to settle 
 into resolve of some sort, stern, almost gloomy, 
 as of a man with his last chance before him.
 
 Black Rock. 25 
 
 After the prayer Mr. Craig invited the men to 
 a Christmas dinner next day in Black Rock. 
 " And because 3^ou are an independent lot, 
 we'll charge you half a dollar for dinner and 
 the evening show," Then leaving a bundle of 
 magazines and illustrated papers on the table — 
 a godsend to the men — he said good-by and 
 ■went out. 
 
 I was to go with the minister, so I jumped into 
 the sleigh first and waited while he said good-by 
 to Graeme, who had been hard hit by the whole 
 service and seemed to want to say something. I 
 heard Mr. Craig say cheerfully and confidentially : 
 " It's a true bill : try Him." 
 
 Sandy, who had been steadying Dandy while 
 that interesting broncho was attempting with 
 great success to balance himself on his hind legs, 
 came to say good-by. 
 
 " Come and see me first thing, Sandy." 
 
 " Aye ! I know ; I'll see ye, Mr. Craig," said 
 Sandy earnestly as Dandy dashed off at a full 
 gallop across the clearing and over the bridge, 
 steadying down when he reached the hill. 
 
 « Steady, you idiot ! " 
 
 This was to Dandy, who had taken a sudden 
 side spring into the deep snow, almost upsetting 
 lis. A man stepped out from the shadow. It 
 was old man Nelson. He came straight to tlic
 
 26 Black Rock. 
 
 sleigh and, ignoring my presence completely, 
 said : 
 
 " Mr. Craig, are you dead sure of this ? Will it 
 work ? " 
 
 " Do you mean," said Craig, taking him up 
 promptly, " can Jesus Christ save you from your 
 sins and make a man of you ? " 
 
 The old man nodded, keeping his hungry eyes 
 on the other's face. 
 
 " Well, here's His message to you : ' The Son 
 of Man is come to seek and to save that which 
 was lost.' " 
 
 " To me ? To me ? " said the old man eagerly. 
 
 " Listen ; this, too, is His word : ' Him that 
 Cometh unto Me I will in no wise cast out.' 
 That's for you, for here you are, coming." 
 
 " You don't know me, Mr. Craig. I left my 
 baby fifteen years ago because " 
 
 " Stop ! " said the minister. " Don't tell me, 
 at least not to-night ; perhaps never. Tell Him 
 who knows it all now and who never betrays a 
 secret. Have it out with Him. Don't be afraid 
 to trust Him," 
 
 Nelson looked at him, with his face quivering, 
 and said in a husky voice : 
 
 " If this is no good, it's hell for me." 
 
 " If it is no good," replied Craig almost sternly, 
 ** it's hell for all of us."
 
 " » 
 
 % 
 
 •t'-jm^^- 
 
 *<^;^j;: 
 
 I looked back and saw what brought a lump in my throat; it was old man 
 Nelson on his knees in the snow, with his hands spread upward to the stars.— 
 I'^Se '37. giack /jopfc.
 
 Black Rock. 27 
 
 The old man straightened himself up, looked 
 up at the stars, then back at Mr. Craig, then at 
 me, and drawing a deep breath said : 
 
 " I'll try Him." As he was turning away the 
 minister touched him on the arm and said quietly : 
 
 " Keep an eye on Sandy to-morrow." 
 
 Nelson nodded and we went on ; but before we 
 took the next turn I looked back and saw what 
 brought a lump into my throat. It was old man 
 Nelson on his knees in the snow, with his hands 
 spread upward to the stars, and I wondered ii 
 there was any One above the stars and nearer 
 than the stars who could see. And then the trees 
 hid him from my sight.
 
 28 Black Rock. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 THE BLACK KOCK CHKISTMAS. 
 
 Many strange Christmas Days have I seen, 
 but that wild Black Kock Christmas stands out 
 strangest of all. While I was reveling in my de- 
 licious second morning sleep, just awake enough 
 to enjoy it, Mr. Craig came abruptl}^, announcing 
 breakfast and adding : 
 
 " Hope you are in good shape, for we have our 
 work before us this day." 
 
 " Hello ! " I replied, still half asleep and anxious 
 to hide from the minister that I was trying to 
 gain a few more moments of snoozing delight, 
 " what's abroad ? " 
 
 " The devil," he answered shortly, and with 
 such emphasis that I sat bolt upright, looking 
 anxiously about. 
 
 *' Oh ! no need for alarm. He's not after you 
 particularly- — at least not to-day," said Craig, 
 with a shadow of a smile. "But he is going 
 about in good style, I can tell you." 
 
 By this time I was quite awake. ^
 
 Black Rock. 29 
 
 *' "Well, what particular style does his majesty 
 affect this morning ? " 
 
 He pulled out a show-bill, 
 
 " Peculiarly gaudy and effective, is it not ? '* 
 
 The items announced were sufficiently at- 
 tractive. The 'Frisco Opera Company were to 
 produce the " screaming farce," " The Gay and 
 Giddy Dude ; " after which there was to be a 
 " Grand Ball," during which the " Kalifornia 
 Female Kickers " were to do some fancy figures ; 
 the whole to be followed by a " big supper " with 
 " two free drinks to every man and one to the 
 lady," and all for the insignificant sum of two 
 dollars, 
 
 " Can't you go one better ? " I said. 
 
 He looked inquiringly and a little disgustedly 
 at me. 
 
 " What can you do against free drinks and a 
 dance, not to speak of the ' High Kickers '? " he 
 groaned. " No ! " he continued ; " it's a clean 
 beat for us to-day. The miners and lumbermen 
 will have in their pockets ten thousand dollars, 
 and everj'^ dollar burning a hole ; and Slavin and 
 his gang will get most of it. But," he added, 
 " you must have breakfast. You'll find a tub in 
 the kitchen ; don't be afraid to splash. It is the 
 best I have to offer you." 
 
 The tub sounded inviting, and before many
 
 30 Black Rock. 
 
 minutes had passed I was in a delightful glow, 
 the effect of cold water and a rough towel, and 
 that consciousness of virtue that comes to a man 
 who has had courage to face his cold bath on a 
 winter morning. 
 
 The breakfast was laid with fine taste. A 
 diminutive pine tree, in a pot hung round with 
 wintergreen, stood in the center of the table. 
 
 " Well, now, this looks good ; porridge, beef- 
 steak, potatoes, toast, and marmalade." 
 
 " I hope you will enjoy it all." 
 
 There was not much talk over our meal. Mr. 
 Craig was evidently preoccupied and as blue as 
 his politeness would allow him. Slavin's victory 
 weighed upon his spirits. Finally he burst out : 
 
 " Look here ! I can't, I won't stand it ; some- 
 thing must be done. Last Christmas this town 
 was for two weeks, as one of the miners said, ' a 
 little suburb of hell.' It was something too aw- 
 ful. And at the end of it all one young fellow 
 was found dead in his shack, and twenty or more 
 crawled back to the camps, leaving their three 
 months' pay with Slavin and his suckers. I won't 
 stand it, I say." He turned fiercely on me. 
 " What's to be done ? " 
 
 This rather took me aback, for I had troubled 
 myself with nothing of this sort in my life before, 
 being fully occupied in keeping myself out of
 
 Black Rock. 31 
 
 dlfTiculty and allowing others the same privilege. 
 So 1 ventured the consolation that he had done 
 his part, and that a spree more or less would not 
 make much difference to these men. But the 
 next moment I wished I had been slower in 
 speech, for he swiftly faced me, and his words 
 came like a torrent. 
 
 " God forgive you that heartless word ! Do 
 
 you know But no ; you don't know what 
 
 you are saying. You don't know that these men 
 have been clambering for dear life out of a fear- 
 ful pit for three mouths past, and doing good 
 climbing, too, poor chaps. You don't think that 
 some of them have wives, most of them mothers 
 and sisters, in the East or across the sea, for 
 whose sake they are slaving here; the miners 
 hoping to save enough to bring their families to 
 this homeless place, the rest to make enough to 
 go back with credit. Why, there's Nixon, miner, 
 splendid chap ; has been here for two years and 
 drawing the highest pay. Twice he has been in 
 sight of his heaven, for he can't speak of his wife 
 and babies without breaking up, and twice that 
 slick son of the devil — that's Scripture, mind you 
 — Slavin, got him and 'rolled' him, as the boys 
 say. He went back to the mines broken in bodv 
 and in heart. He says this is his third and last 
 chance. If Slavin gets him, his wife and babies
 
 3 2 Black Rock. 
 
 will never see him on earth or in heaven. There 
 is Sandy, too, and the rest. And," he added in 
 a lower tone, and with a curious little thrill of 
 pathos in his voice, " this is the day the Saviour 
 came to the world." He paused, and then with a 
 little sad smile : " But I don't want to abuse you." 
 
 " Do. I enjoy it. Pm a beast, a selfish beast," 
 for somehow his intense, blazing earnestness made 
 me feel uncomfortably small. " What have we 
 to offer ? " I demanded, 
 
 " Wait till I have got these things cleared away 
 and my housekeeping done." 
 
 I pressed my services upon him, somewhat 
 feebly, I own, for I can't bear dish-water ; but he 
 rejected my offer. 
 
 " I don't like trusting my china to the hands of 
 a tenderfoot." 
 
 " Quite right, though your china would prove 
 an excellent means of defense at long range." 
 
 It was delf, a quarter of an inch thick. So I 
 smoked while he washed up, swept, dusted, and 
 arranged the room. 
 
 After the room was ordered to his taste we 
 proceeded to hold council. He could offer din- 
 ner, magic lantern, music. " We can fill in time 
 for two hours, but," he added gloomily, " we can't 
 beat the dance and the ' High Kickers.' " 
 
 " Have you nothing new or startling ? "
 
 Black Rock. 33 
 
 He shook his head. 
 
 " No kind of show ? Dog show ? Snake 
 charmer ? " 
 
 " Slavin has a monopoly of the snakes." Then 
 he added hesitatingly : " There was an old Punch- 
 and-Judy chap here last year, but he died. 
 "Whisky again." 
 
 " What happened to his show ? " 
 
 " The Black Rock Hotel man took it for board 
 and whisky bill. He has it still, I suppose." 
 
 I did not much relish the business, but I hated 
 to see him beaten, so I ventured : 
 
 " I have run a Punch-and-Judy in an amateur 
 way at the 'varsity." 
 
 He sprang to his feet with a yell. 
 
 " You have ! You mean to say it ? We've got 
 them! We've beaten them!" He had an ex- 
 traordinary way of taking your help for granted. 
 " The miner chaps, mostly English and Welsh, 
 went mad over the poor old showman, and made 
 liim so wealthy that in sheer gratitude he drank 
 himself to death." 
 
 He walked up and down in high excitement 
 and in such evident delight that I felt pledged to 
 my best effort. 
 
 "Well," I said, "first the poster. We must 
 beat them in that." 
 
 He brought me large sheets of brown paper, 
 3
 
 54 Black Rock. 
 
 and after two hours' hard work I had half a 
 dozen pictorial show-bills done in gorgeous colors 
 and striking designs. They were good, if I do 
 say it myself. 
 
 The turkey, the magic lantern, the Punch-and- 
 Judy show were all there, the last with the crowd 
 before it in gaping delight. A few explanatory 
 words were thrown in, emphasizing the highly 
 artistic nature of the Punch-and-Judy entertain- 
 ment. 
 
 Craig was delighted, and proceeded to perfect 
 his plans. He had some half a dozen young men, 
 four young ladies, and eight or ten matrons upon 
 whom he could depend for help. These he or- 
 ganized into a vigilance committee charged with 
 the duty of preventing miners and lumbermen 
 from getting away to Slavin's. 
 
 " The critical moments will be immediately be- 
 fore and after dinner, and then again after the 
 show is over," he explained. " The first two 
 crises must be left to the care of Punch and Judy, 
 and as for the last, I am not yet sure what shall 
 be done ; " but I saw he had something in his 
 head, for he added, " I shall see Mrs. Mavor." 
 
 " Who is Mrs. Mavor? " I asked. 
 
 But he made no reply. He was a born fighter, 
 and he put the fighting spirit into us all. "We 
 were bound to win.
 
 Black Rock. 35 
 
 The sports were to begin at two o'clock. By 
 lunch-tirae everything was in readiness. After 
 lunch I was having a quiet smoke in Craig's shack 
 when in he rushed, saying : 
 
 "The battle will be lost before it is fought. 
 If we lose Quatre Bras we shall never get to 
 Waterloo." 
 
 " What's up ? " 
 
 " Slavin, just now. The miners are coming in, 
 and he will have them in tow in half an hour." 
 
 He looked at me appealingly. I knew what he 
 wanted. 
 
 " All right. I suppose I must, but it is an 
 awful bore that a man can't have a quiet smoke." 
 
 "You're not half a bad fellow," he replied, 
 smiling. " I shall get the ladies to furnish coffee 
 inside the booth. You furnish them intellectual 
 nourishment in front with dear old Punch and 
 Judy." 
 
 He sent a boy with a bell round the village an- 
 nouncing, " Punch and Judy in front of the Christ- 
 mas booth beside the church ; " and for three- 
 quarters of an hour I shrieked and sweated in 
 that awful little pen. But it was almost worth it 
 to hear the shouts of approval and laughter that 
 greeted ray performance. It was cold work 
 standing about, so that the crowd was quite ready 
 to respond when Punch, after being dul}' hanged,
 
 36 ' Black Rock. 
 
 came forward and invited all into the booth for 
 the hot coffee which Judy had ordered. 
 
 In they trooped, and Quatre Bras was won. 
 
 Ko sooner were the miners safely engaged with 
 their coffee than I heard a great noise of bells 
 and of men shouting, and on reaching the street 
 I saw that the men from the lumber camp were 
 coming in. Two immense sleighs, decorated with 
 ribbons and spruce boughs, each drawn by a four- 
 horse team gaily adorned, filled Avith some fifty 
 men, singing and shouting with all their might, 
 were coming down the hill road at full gallop. 
 Bound the corner they swung, dashed at full speed 
 across the bridge and down the street, and pulled 
 up after they had made the circuit of a block, to 
 the great admiration of the on-lookers. Among 
 others Slavin sauntered up good-naturedly, mak- 
 ing himself agreeable to Sandy and those who 
 were helping to unhitch his team. 
 
 " Oh, you need not take trouble with me or my 
 team, Mike Slavin. Batchees and me and the 
 boys can look after them fine," said Sandy 
 coolly. 
 
 This rejecting of hospitality was perfectly un- 
 derstood by Slavin and by all. 
 
 " Dat's too bad, heh ? " said Baptiste wickedly ; 
 " and Sandy, he's got good money on. his pocket 
 for sure, too."
 
 Black Rock. 37 
 
 The boys laughed, and Slavin, joining in, turned 
 away with Keefe and Blaney ; but by the look 
 in his eye I knew he was playing " Br'er Kabbit '' 
 and lying low. 
 
 Mr. Craig just then came up, 
 
 " Hello, boys ! Too late for Punch and Judy, 
 but just in time for hot coffee and doughnuts." 
 
 " Bon. Dat's fuss rate," said Baptiste heartily. 
 " Where you keep him ? " 
 
 " Up in the tent next the church there. The 
 miners are all in." 
 
 " Ah, dat so ? Dat's bad news for the shanty- 
 men, heh, Sandy ? " said the little Frenchman 
 dolefully. 
 
 " There was a clothes-basket full of doughnuts 
 and a boiler of coffee left as I passed just now," 
 said Craig encouragingly. 
 
 " Allans, tnes gargons. Yite ! Never say keel ! " 
 cried Baptiste excitedly, stripping off the har- 
 ness. 
 
 But Sandy would not leave the horses till they 
 were carefully rubbed down, blanketed, and fed, 
 for he was entered for the four-horse race and it 
 behooved him to do his best to win. Besides, he 
 scorned to hurry himself for anything so unim- 
 portant as eating; that he considered hardly 
 worthy even of Baptiste. Mr. Craig managed to 
 get a word with him before he went off, and I
 
 38 Black Rock. 
 
 sa-w Sandy solemnly and emphatically shake his 
 head, saying, " Ah! we'll beat him this day," and 
 I gathered that he was added to the vigilance 
 committee. 
 
 Old man Kelson was busy with his own team. 
 He turned slowly at Mr. Craig's greeting, " How 
 is it, Nelson ? " and it was with a very grave voice 
 he answered : " I hardly know, sir ; but I am not 
 gone yet, though it seems little to hold to." 
 
 " All you want for a grip is what your hand 
 can cover. "What would you have ? And besides, 
 do you know why you are not gone yet ? " 
 
 The old man waited, looking at the minister 
 gravely. 
 
 " Because He hasn't let go His grip of you." 
 
 " How do you know He's gripped me ? " 
 
 "Now, look here, Nelson, do you want to quit 
 this thing and give it all up ? " 
 
 " No ! no ! For Heaven's sake, no ! Why, do 
 you think I have lost it ? " said Nelson, almost 
 piteously. 
 
 " Well, He's keener about it than you ; and 
 I'll bet you haven't thought it worth while to 
 thank Him." 
 
 " To thank Him," he repeated, almost stupidly, 
 "for " 
 
 " For keeping you where you are overnight," 
 said Mr. Craig, almost sternly.
 
 Black Rock. 39 
 
 The old man gazed at the minister, a light 
 growing in his eyes. 
 
 " You're right. Thank God, you're right." 
 
 And then he turned quickly away and went 
 into the stable behind his team. It was a minute 
 before he came out. Over his face was a trem- 
 bling joy. 
 
 " Can I do anything for you to-day ? " he 
 asked humbly. 
 
 " Indeed you just can," said the minister, 
 taking his hand and shaking it very warmly ; 
 and then he told him Slavin's program and ours. 
 
 " Sandy is all right till after his race. After 
 that is his time of danger," said the minister. 
 
 " I'll stay with him, sir," said old Nelson, in 
 the tone of a man taking a covenant, and imme- 
 diately set off for the coffee tent. 
 
 " Here comes another recruit for your corps," 
 I said, pointing to Leslie Graeme, who was com- 
 ing down the street at that moment in his light 
 sleigh. 
 
 " I am not so sure. Do you think you could 
 get him ? " 
 
 I laughed. 
 
 " You are a good one." 
 
 " Well," he replied half defiantly, " is not this 
 your fight too ? " 
 
 "You make me think so^ though I am bouno.
 
 40 Black Rock. 
 
 say I hardly recognize myself to-day. But here 
 goes," and before I kne^y it I was describing our 
 plans to Graeme, growing more and more en- 
 thusiastic as he sat in his sleigh, listening with a 
 quizzical smile I didn't quite like. 
 
 " He's got you too," he said. " I feared so." 
 
 " "Well," I laughed, " perhaps so. But I warn 
 to lick that man Slavin. I've just seen him, and 
 he's just what Craig calls him, ' a slick son of the 
 devil.' Don't be shocked; he says it is Scrip- 
 ture." 
 
 " Revised version," said Graeme gravely, while 
 Craig looked a little abashed. 
 
 " What is assigned me, Mr. Craig 1 for I know 
 that this man is simply your agent." 
 
 1 repudiated the idea, while Mr. Craig said 
 nothing. 
 
 " What's my part ? " demanded Graeme. 
 
 " Well," said Mr. Craig hesitatingly, " of course 
 I would do nothing till I had consulted you ; but 
 I want a man to take my place at the sports. I 
 am referee." 
 
 " That's all right," said Graeme, with an air of 
 relief. " I expected something hard." 
 
 " And then I thought you would not mind pre- 
 siding at dinner — I want it to go off well." 
 
 " Did you notice that ? " said Graeme to me. 
 "Not a bad touch, eh?"
 
 Black Rock. 41 
 
 " That's nothing to the way he touched me. 
 Wait and learn," I answered, while Craig looked 
 quite distressed. " He'll do it, Mr. Craig, never 
 fear," I said, " and any other little duty that may 
 occur to vou." 
 
 "N"ow, that's too bad of you. That is all 1 
 want, honor bright," he replied ; adding as he 
 turned away : " You are just in time for a cup of 
 coffee, Mr. Graeme. Now I must see Mrs. 
 Mavor." 
 
 " Who is Mrs. Mavor ? " I demanded of 
 Graeme. 
 
 " Mrs. Mavor ? The miners' guardian angel." 
 
 We put up the horses and set off for coffee. 
 As we approached the booth Graeme caught sight 
 of the Punch-and- Judy show, stood still in amaze- 
 ment, and exclaimed : " Can the dead live ? " 
 
 "Punch and Judy never die," I replied sol- 
 emnly. 
 
 " But the old manipulator is dead enough, poor 
 old beggar ! " 
 
 " But he left his mantle, as you see." 
 
 He looked at me a moment. 
 
 " What ! Do you mean you " 
 
 " Yes, that is exactly what I do mean." 
 
 " He is a great man, that Craig fellow — a truly 
 great man." And then he leaned up against a 
 tree and laughed till the tears came. " I say
 
 42 Black Rock. 
 
 old boy, don't mind me," he gasped, " but do you 
 remember the old 'varsity show ? " 
 
 " Yes, you villain ; and I remember your part 
 in it. I wonder how you can, even at this re- 
 mote date, laugh at it." 
 
 For I had a vivid recollection of how, after a 
 "chaste and high artistic performance of this 
 medieval play " had been given before a distin- 
 guished Toronto audience, the trap-door by which 
 I had entered my box was fastened, and I was 
 left to swelter in my cage and forced to listen to 
 the suffocated laughter from the wings and the 
 stage whispers of " Hello, Mr. Punch, where's the 
 baby ? " And for many a day after I was sub- 
 jected to anxious inquiries as to the locality and 
 health of " the baby," and whether it was able 
 to be out. 
 
 "Oh, the dear old days ! " he kept saying, over 
 and over, in a tone so full of sadness that my 
 heart grew sore for him and I forgave him, as 
 many a time before. 
 
 The sports passed off in typical "Western style. 
 In addition to the usual running and leaping 
 contests, there was rifle and pistol shooting, in 
 both of which old Nelson stood first, with Shaw, 
 foreman of the mines, second. 
 
 The great event of the day, however, was to 
 be the four-horse race, for which three teams we;'
 
 Black Rock. 43 
 
 entered — one from the mines driven by Nixon, 
 Craig's friend, a citizens' team, and Sandy's. The 
 race was really between the miners' team and 
 that from the woods, for the citizens' team, though 
 made up of speedy horses, had not been driven 
 much together and knew neither their driver nor 
 each other. In the miners' team were four bays, 
 very powerful, a trifle heavy perhaps, but well 
 matched, perfectly trained, and perfectly handled 
 by their driver. Sandy had his long, rangy roans, 
 and for leaders a pair of half-broken pinto bron- 
 chos. The pintos, caught the summer before 
 upon the Alberta prairies, were fleet as deer, but 
 wicked and uncertain. They w^ere Baptiste's 
 special care and pride. If they would only run 
 straight there was little doubt that thev would 
 carry the roans and themselves to glory ; but one 
 could not tell the moment they might bolt or 
 kick things to pieces. 
 
 Being the only non-partisan in the crowd, I was 
 asked to referee. The race was about half a mile 
 and return, the first and last quarters being upon 
 the ice. The course, after leaving the ice, led up 
 from the river by a long, easy slope to the level 
 above, and at the further end curved somewhat 
 sharply round the old fort. The only condition 
 attaching to the race was that the teams should 
 start from the scratch, make the turn of the fort,
 
 44 Black Rock. 
 
 and finish at the scratch. There were no vexing 
 regulations as to fouls. The man making the 
 foul would find it necessary to reckon with the 
 crowd, which was considered sufficient guarantee 
 for a fair and square race. Owing to the hazards 
 of the course, the result would depend upon the 
 skill of drivers quite as much as upon the speed 
 of the teams. The points of hazard were at the 
 turn round the old fort and at a little ravine 
 which led down to the river, over which the road 
 passed by means of a long log bridge or cause- 
 way. 
 
 From a point upon the high bank of the river 
 the whole course lay in open view. It was a scene 
 full of life and vividly picturesque. There were 
 miners in dark clothes and peak caps ; citizens in 
 ordinary garb ; ranchmen in wide cowboy hats 
 and buckskin shirts and leggings, some with car- 
 tridge-belts and pistols ; a few half-breeds and In- 
 dians in half-native, half-civilized dress ; and scat- 
 tering through the crowd the lumbermen with 
 gay scarlet and blue blanket coats, and some with 
 knitted toques of the same colors. A very good, 
 natured but extremely uncertain crowd it was. 
 At the head of each horse stood a man, but at 
 the pintos' heads Baptiste stood alone, trying to 
 hold down the off leader, thrown into a frenzy of 
 fear by the yelling of the crowd.
 
 Black Rock. 45 
 
 Gradually all became quiet, till, in the midst of 
 absolute stillness, came the words, "Are you 
 ready ? " then the pistol-shot, and the great race 
 had begun. Above the roar of the crowd came 
 the shrill cry of Baptiste as he struck his broncho 
 with the palm of his hand and swung himself 
 into the sleigh beside Sandy as it shot past. 
 
 Like a flash the bronchos sprang to the front, 
 two lengths before the other teams ; but, terrified 
 by the yelling of the crowd, instead of bending 
 to the left bank, up which the road wound, they 
 wheeled to the right and were almost across the 
 river before Sandy could swing them back into 
 the course. 
 
 Baptiste's cries, a curious mixture of French 
 and English, continued to strike through all other 
 sounds till they gained the top of the slope, to 
 find the others almost a hundred yards in front, 
 the citizens' team leading, with the miners' fol- 
 lowing close. The moment the pintos caught 
 sight of the teams before them they set oflf at a 
 terrific pace and steadily devoured the intervening 
 space. Nearer and nearer the turn came, the 
 eight horses in front, running straight and well 
 within their speed. After them flew the pintos, 
 running savagely with ears set back, leading well 
 the big roans, thundering along and gaining r/ 
 every bound. And now the citizens' team iii*
 
 46 Black Rock, 
 
 almost reached the fort, running hard and draw- 
 ing away from the bays. But Kixon knew what 
 he was about, and was simply steadying his team 
 for the turn. The event proved his wisdom, for 
 in the turn the leading team left the track, lost 
 for a moment or two in the deep snow, and before 
 they could regain the road the bays had swept 
 superbly past, leaving their rivals to follow in the 
 rear. On came the pintos, swiftly nearing the 
 fort. Surely at that pace they cannot make the 
 turn. But Sandy knows his leaders. They have 
 their eyes upon the teams in front and need no 
 touch of rein. Without the slightest change in 
 speed the nimble-footed bronchos round the turn, 
 hauling the big roans after them, and fall in behind 
 the citizens' team, which is regaining steadily the 
 ground lost in the turn. 
 
 And now the struggle is for the bridge over the 
 ravine. The bays in front, running with mouths 
 wide open, are evidently doing their best ; behind 
 them, and every moment nearing them, but at 
 the limit of their speed, too, came the lighter and 
 fleeter citizens' team ; while opposite their driver 
 are the pintos, pulling hard, eager and fresh. 
 Their temper is too uncertain to send them to 
 the front ; they run well following, but when 
 leading cannot be trusted, and besides, a broncho 
 hates a bridge j so Sandy holds them where they
 
 Black Rock. 47 
 
 are, waiting and hoping for bis chance after the 
 bridge is crossed. Foot by foot tlie citizens' team 
 creep up upon the flank of the bays, with the 
 pintos in turn hugging them closely, till it seems 
 as if the three, if none slackens, must strike the 
 bridge together ; and this 'U'ill mean destruction 
 to one at least. This danger Sandy perceives, 
 but he dare not check his leaders. Suddenly, 
 within a few yards of the bridge, Baptiste throws 
 himself upon the lines, wrenches them out of 
 Sandy's hands, and with a quick swing faces the 
 pintos down the steep side of the ravine, which 
 is almost sheer ice with a thin coat of snow. It 
 is a daring course to take, for the ravine, though 
 not deep, is full of undergrowth and is partially 
 closed up by a brush-heap at the further end. 
 But with a yell Baptiste hurls his four horses down 
 the slope and into the undergrowth. ^^ Allonfi, 
 m£8 enfants ! Courage ! Yite ! vite ! " cries the 
 driver, and nobly do the pintos respond. Regard- 
 less of bushes and brush-heaps, they tear their 
 way tlirough ; but as they emerge the hind bob- 
 sleigh catches a root, and with a crash the sleigh 
 is hurled high in the air. Baptiste's cries ring 
 out high and shrill as ever, encouraging his team, 
 and never cease till, with a plunge and a scramble, 
 they clear the brush-heap lying at the mouth of 
 the ravine and are out ou the ice 011 the river,
 
 48 Black Rock. 
 
 with Baptiste standing on the front bob, the 
 box trailing behind, and Sandy nowhere to be 
 seen. 
 
 Three hundred yards of the course remain. 
 The bays, perfectly handled, have gained at the 
 bridge and in the descent to the ice, and are leading 
 the citizens' team by half a dozen sleigh-lengths. 
 Behind both comes Baptiste. It is now or never 
 for the pintos. The rattle of the trailing box, to- 
 gether with the wild yelling of the crowd rushing 
 down the bank, excites the bronchos to madness, 
 and taking the bits in their teeth they do their 
 first free running that day. Past the citizens' 
 team like a Avhirlwind they dash, clear the in- 
 tervening space, and gain the flanks of the bays. 
 Can the bays hold them ? Over them leans their 
 driver, plying for the first time the hissing lash. 
 Only fifty yards more. The miners begin to yell. 
 But Baptiste, waving his lines high in one hand, 
 seizes his toque with the other, whirls it about his 
 head, and flings it with a fiercer yell than ever at 
 the bronchos. Like the bursting of a hurricane 
 the pintos leap forward, and with a splendid rush 
 cross the scratch, winners by their own lengths. 
 
 There was a wild quarter of an hour. The 
 shantymen had torn off their coats and were 
 waving them wildly and tossing them high, wliile 
 tho ranchers added to the uproar by emptying
 
 Black Rock. , 40 
 
 their revolvers into the air in a way that made 
 one nervous. 
 
 When the crowd was somewhat quieted Sandy's 
 stiff figure appeared, slowly making toward them. 
 A dozen lumbermen ran to him, eagerly inquiring 
 if he were hurt. But Sandy could only curse the 
 little Frenchman for losing the race. 
 
 " Lost ! Why, man, we've won it ! " shouted a 
 voice, at which Sandy's rage vanished, and he 
 allowed himself to be carried in upon the shoul- 
 ders of his admirers. 
 
 " Where's the lad ? " was his first question. 
 
 " The bronchos are off with him. He's down 
 at the rapids like enough." 
 
 " Let me go ! " shouted Sandy, setting off at a 
 run in the track of the sleigh. He had not gone 
 far before he met Baptiste coming back with his 
 team foaming, the roans going quietly, but the 
 bronchos dancing and eager to be at it again. 
 
 " Voild / Bully boy ! Tank the hon Dieu, 
 Sand3\ You not keel, heh ? Ah ! you are one 
 grand chevalier," exclaimed Baptiste, hauling 
 Sandy in and thrusting the lines into his hands. 
 And so tlKv came back, the sleio:h box still dras"- 
 ging behind, the pintos executing fantastic figures 
 on their hind-legs, and Sandy holding them down. 
 The little Frenchman struck a dramatic attitude 
 and called out : 
 4
 
 So Black Rock. 
 
 " Yoild! What's the matter wiz Sandy, 
 heh?" 
 
 The roar that answered set the bronchos off 
 again plunging and kicking, and only when Bap- 
 tiste got them by the heads could they be induced 
 to stand long enough to allow Sandy to be pro- 
 claimed winner of the race. Several of the lum- 
 bermen sprang into the sleigh box with Sandy 
 and Baptiste, among them Keefe, followed by 
 Nelson, and the first part of the great day was 
 over. Slavin could not understand the new order 
 of things. That a great ev^ent like the four-horse 
 race should not be followed bv " drinks all around " 
 was to him at once disgusting and incomprehen- 
 sible ; and realizing his defeat for the moment, he 
 fell into the crowd and disappeared. But he left 
 behind him his " runners." He had not yet 
 thrown up the game. 
 
 Mr. Craig meantime came to me, and looking 
 anxiously after Sandy in his sleigh, with his fran- 
 tic crowd of 3'elling admirers, said in a gloomy 
 voice : 
 
 " Poor Sandy ! He is easily caught, and Keefe 
 has the devil's cunning." 
 
 "He won't touch Slavin's whisky to-day," I 
 answered confidently. 
 
 " There'll be twenty bottles waiting him in the 
 stable," he replied bitterly, " and I can't go f ol-
 
 Black Rock. 51 
 
 lowing him up. He won't stand tbat — no man 
 would. God help us all." 
 
 I could hardly recognize myself, for I found in 
 my heart an earnest echo to that prayer as I 
 watched hira go toward the crowd again, his face 
 set in strong determination. He looked like the 
 captain of a forlorn hope, and I was proud to be 
 following him.
 
 52 Black Rock. 
 
 CHAPTER III? 
 
 WATEELOO. OUR FIGHT HIS VICTOKY. 
 
 The s^wrts were over, and there remained still 
 an hour to be filled in before dinner. It was an 
 hour full of danger to Craig's hopes of victory, 
 for the men were wild with excitement and ready 
 for the most reckless means of "slinging their 
 dust." I could not but admire the skill with 
 which Mr. Craig caught their attention. 
 
 " Gentlemen," he called out, " we've forgotten 
 the judge of the great race. Three cheers for 
 Mr. Connor ! " 
 
 Two of the shantymen picked me up and hoist-, 
 ed me on their shoulders while the cheers were 
 given. 
 
 " Announce the Punch and Judy," he en- 
 treated me in a low voice. I did so in a little 
 speech, and was forthwith borne aloft, through 
 the street to the booth, followed by the whole 
 crowd, cheering like mad. 
 
 The excitement of the crowd caught me, and 
 for an hour I squeaked and worked the wires of
 
 Black Rock. 53 
 
 the immortal and unhappy family in a manner 
 hitherto unapproached — by me at least. I was 
 glad enough when Graeme came to me to send 
 the men in to dinner. This Mr. Punch did in the 
 most gracious manner, and again with cheers for 
 Punch's master they trooped tumultuously into 
 the tent. 
 
 We had only well begun when Baptiste came 
 in quietly but hurriedly and whispered to me : 
 
 *' M'sieu Craig, he's gone toSlavin's, and would 
 lak you and M'sieu Graeme would follow queek. 
 Sandy he's take one leel drink up at the stable, 
 and he's go mad lak one diableP 
 
 I sent him for Graeme, who was presiding at 
 dinner, and set off for Slavin's at a run. There I 
 found Mr. Craig and Nelson holding Sandy, more 
 than half drunk, back from Slavin, who, stripped 
 to the shirt, was coolly w:aiting with a taunting 
 smile. 
 
 "Let me go, Mr. Craig," Sandy was saying. 
 " I am a good Presbyterian. He is a Papist thief 
 and he has my money, and I will have it out of 
 the soul of him." 
 
 " Let hira go, preacher," sneered Slavin. " I'll 
 cool him off for yez. But ye'd better hold him if 
 yez wants his mug left on to him." 
 
 " Let him go ! " Keefe was shouting. 
 
 " Hands off 1 " Blaney was echoing.
 
 54 Black Rock. 
 
 I pushed my way in. 
 
 " TTliat's up ? " I cried. 
 
 " Mr. Connor," said Sandy solemnly, " it is a 
 gentleman you are, though your name is against 
 you, and I am a good Presbyterian, and I can 
 give you the Commandments and Reasons an- 
 nexed to them ; but Jon's a thief, a Papist thief, 
 and I am justified in getting my money out of 
 his soul." 
 
 "But," I remonstrated, '' you won't get it in 
 this way." 
 
 " lie has my money," reiterated Sandy. 
 
 "He is a blank liar, and he's afraid to take 
 it up," said Slavin in a low, cool tone. 
 
 "With d, roar Sandy broke away and rushed at 
 him ; but, without moving from his track, Slavin 
 met him with a straight left-hander and laid him 
 flat. 
 
 " Hooray ! " yelled Blaney. " Ireland forever ! " 
 and, seizing the iron poker, swung it around his 
 head, crying : " Back, or by the holy Moses I'll 
 kill the first man that interferes wid the game." 
 
 " Give it to him ! " Keefe said savagely. 
 
 Sandy rose slowly, gazing round stupidly. 
 
 " He don't know what hit him," laughed Keefe. 
 
 This roused the Highlander, and saying, " I'll 
 settle you afterward, I^Ir. Keefe," he rushed in 
 again at Slavin. Again Slavin met him with his
 
 Black Rock. 55 
 
 left, staggered him, and before he fell took a step 
 forward and delivered a terrific right-hand blow 
 on his jaw. Poor Sandy went down in a heap 
 amid the yells of Blaney, Keefe, and some others 
 of the gang. I was in despair when in came Bap- 
 tiste and Graeme. 
 
 One look at Sandy, and Baptiste tore off his 
 coat and cap, slammed them on the floor, danced 
 on them, and with a long-drawn " Sap-r^-r-rie ! " 
 rushed at Slavin. But Graeme caught him by 
 the back of the neck, saying, "Ilold on, little 
 man," and turning to Slavin pointed to Sandy, 
 who was reviving under isTelson's care, and said : 
 " What's this for ? " 
 
 " Ask him," said Slavin insolently. " He knows." 
 
 " What is it, Kelson ? " 
 
 ISTelson explained that Sandy, after drinking 
 some at the stable and a glass at the Black Eock 
 Hotel, had come down here with Keefe and the 
 others, had lost his money, and was accusing 
 Slavin of robbing him. 
 
 " Did you furnish him with liquor ? " said 
 Graeme sternly. 
 
 " It is none of your business," replied Slavin 
 with an oath. 
 
 " I shall make it my business. It is not the 
 first time my men have lost money in thi8 
 saloon."
 
 56 Black Rock. 
 
 " You lie ! " said Slavin with deliberate em- 
 phasis. 
 
 " Slavin," said Graeme quietly, " it is a pity 
 you said that, because unless you apologize in one 
 minute I shall make you sorry." 
 
 " Apologize ? " roared Slavin. " Apologize to 
 you ? " calling him a vile name. 
 
 Graeme grew white and said even more slowly : 
 
 " !Now you'll have to take it ; no apology will 
 do." 
 
 He slowly stripped off coat and vest. Mr. Craig 
 interposed, begging Graeme to let the matter 
 pass. 
 
 " Surely he is not worth it." 
 
 " Mr. Craig," said Graeme with an easy smile, 
 " you don't understand. ISTo man can call me that 
 name and walk around afterward feeling well." 
 
 Then, turning to Slavin, he said : 
 
 " Now, if you want a minute's rest, I can wait." 
 
 Slavin, with a curse, bade him come. 
 
 " Blaney," said Graeme sharply, " you get 
 back.'' Blaney promptly stepped back to Keefe's 
 side. " Nelson, you and Baptiste can see that 
 they stay there." The old man nodded and 
 looked at Craig, who simply said : " Do the best 
 you can." 
 
 It was a good fight. Slavin had plenty of pluck 
 and for a time forced the fighting, Graeme guard 
 ing easily and tapping him aggravatingly about
 
 Black Rock. 57 
 
 the nose and eyes, drawing blood, but not disabling 
 him. Gradually there came a look of fear into 
 Slavin's eyes and the beads stood upon his face. 
 He had met his master. 
 
 " Now, Slavin, you're beginning to be sorry, 
 and now I am going to show you what you are 
 
 made of." 
 
 Graeme made one or two lightning passes, 
 struck Slavin one, two, three terrific blows, and 
 laid him quite flat and senseless. Keefe and 
 Blaney both sprang forward, but there was a 
 savage kind of growl. 
 
 " Hold, there ! " It was old man Kelson looking 
 along a pistol barrel. " You know me, Keefe," 
 he said. " You won't do any murder this time." 
 
 Keefe turned green and yellow and staggered 
 back, while Slavin slowly rose to his feet. 
 
 " Will you take some more ? " said Graeme. 
 « You haven't got mudh ; but mind, I have stopped 
 playing with you. Put up your gun, Kelson. 
 Ko one will interfere now." 
 
 Slavin hesitated, then rushed, but Graeme 
 stepped to meet him, and we saw Slavin's heels in 
 the air as he fell back upon his neck and shoulders 
 and lay still, with his toes quivering. 
 
 " Bon 1 " yelled Baptiste. " Bully boy t Dat's 
 deJoTi stuff. Dat's larn him one good lesson." But 
 immediately he shrieked, " Gar-r-'r-r-e d voua I "
 
 58 Black Rock. 
 
 He was too late, for there was a crash of break- 
 inof crlass, and Graeme fell to the floor with a 
 long deep cut on the side of his head. Keefe had 
 hurled a bottle with all too sure an aim and had 
 fled. I thought he was dead ; but we carried him 
 out, and in a few minutes he groaned, opened his 
 ejes, and sunk again into insensibility. 
 
 " Where can we take him ? " I cried. 
 
 " To my shack," said Mr. Craig. 
 
 " Is there no place nearer ? " 
 
 " Yes, Mrs. Mayor's. I shall run on to tell 
 her." 
 
 She met us at the door. I had in mind to say 
 some words of apology, but when I looked upon 
 her face I forgot my words, forgot my business 
 at her door, and stood simply looking. 
 
 " Come in ! Bring him in ! Please do not 
 wait," she said, and her voice was sweet and soft 
 and firm. 
 
 "We laid him in a large room at the back of the 
 shop over which Mrs. Mavor lived. Together 
 we dressed the wound, her firm white fingers skil- 
 ful as if with long training. Before the dressing 
 was finished I sent Craig ofi*, for the time had 
 come for the magic lantern in the church, and I 
 knew how critical the moment was in our fight. 
 
 " Go," I said. " He is coming to and we do not 
 need you."
 
 Black Rock. 59 
 
 In a few moments more Graeme revived, and 
 gazing about asked : " What's all this about ? " 
 and then, recollecting, " Ah ! that brute Keefe ; " 
 then seeing my anxious face he said carelessly : 
 *' Awful bore, ain't it ? Sorry to trouble you, 
 old fellow." 
 
 " You be hanged I " I said shortly ; for his old 
 sweet smile was playing about his lips, and was 
 almost too much for me. " Mrs. Mavor and I are 
 in command, and you must keep perfectly still." 
 
 " Mrs. Mavor ? " he said in surprise. 
 
 She came forward, with a slight flush on her 
 face. 
 
 " I think you know me, Mr. Graeme." 
 
 " I have often seen you and wished to know 
 you. I am sorry to bring you this trouble." 
 
 " You must not say so," she replied, " but let 
 me do all for you that I can. And now the 
 doctor says you are to lie still." 
 
 " The doctor ? Oh ! you mean Connor. He is 
 hardly there yet. You don't know each other. 
 Permit me to present Mr. Connor, Mrs. Mavor." 
 
 As she bowed slightly her eyes looked into 
 mine with serious gaze, not inquiring, yet search- 
 ing my soul. As I looked into her eyes I forgot 
 everything about me, and when I recalled myself 
 it seemed as if I had been away in some far place. 
 It was not their color or their brightness j I do
 
 6o Black Rock. 
 
 not jet know their color, and I have often looked 
 into them ; and they were not bright ; but they 
 ■were clear, and one could look far down into them, 
 and in their depths see a glowing, steady light. As 
 I went to get some drugs from the Black Rock 
 doctor I found myself wondering about that far- 
 down light ; and about her voice, how it could 
 get that sound from far away. 
 
 I found the doctor quite drunk, as indeed !Mr. 
 Craig had warned ; but his drugs were good, and 
 1 got what I wanted and quickly returned. 
 
 While Graeme slept Mrs. Mavor made me tea. 
 As the evening wore on I told her the events 
 of the day, dwelling admiringly upon Craig's 
 generalship. She smiled at this. 
 
 " He got me, too," she said. " Xixon was sent 
 tome just before the sports, and I don't think he 
 will break down to-dav, and I am so thankful." 
 
 And her eves glowed. 
 
 " I am quite sure he won't," I thought to 
 mvself, but I said no word. 
 
 After a long pause she went on, "I have 
 promised Mr. Craig to sing to-night if I am 
 needed ! " and then, after a moment's hesitation, 
 " it is two years since I have been able to sing 
 — two years," she repeated, " since " — and --hen 
 her brave voice trembled — "my husband was 
 killed."
 
 Black Rock. 6i 
 
 ** I quite understand," I said, having no other 
 word on my tongue. 
 
 " And," she Avent on quietly, " I fear I have 
 been selfish. It is hard to sing the same songs. 
 "We were very happy. But the miners like to 
 hear me sing, and I think perhaps it helps them 
 to feel less lonely and keeps them from evil. I 
 shall try to-night if I am needed. Mr. Craig will 
 not ask me unless he must." 
 
 I would have seen every miner and lumberman 
 in the place hideously drunk before I would have 
 asked her to sing one song while her heart ached. 
 I wondered at Craig, and said rather angrily : 
 
 " He thinks only of those wretched miners and 
 shantymen of his." 
 
 She looked at me with wonder in her eyes and 
 said gently : 
 
 " And are they not Christ's too ? " 
 
 And I found no word to reply. 
 
 It was nearing ten o'clock, and I was wonder- 
 ing how the fight was going and hoping that Mrs. 
 Mavor would not be needed, when the door 
 opened and old man Nelson and Sandy, the latter 
 much battered and ashamed, came in with the 
 word for Mrs. Mavor. 
 
 " I will come," she said simply. She saw me 
 preparing to accompany her and asked : " D'. 
 you think you can leave him 2 "
 
 62 Black Kock. 
 
 w 
 
 " He will do quite well in Kelson's care.' 
 
 " Then I am glad ; for I must take my little 
 one with me. I did not put her to bed in case I 
 should need to go, and I may not leave her." 
 
 "We entered the church by the back door, and 
 saw at once that even yet the battle might easily 
 be lost. r 
 
 Some mine! s had just come from Slavin's evi- 
 dently bent on breaking up the meeting in re- 
 venge for the collapse of the dance, which Slavin 
 was unable to enjoy, much less direct. Craig 
 was gallantly holding his ground, finding it hard 
 work to keep his men in good humor, and so 
 prevent a fight, for there were cries of " Put him 
 out ! Put the beast out ! " at a miner half drunk 
 and wholly outrageous. 
 
 The look of relief that came over his face when 
 Craig caught sight of us told how anxious he had 
 been, and reconciled me to Mrs. Mavor's singing. 
 
 " Thank the good God," he said, with what 
 came near being a sob. " I v/as about to des- 
 pair." 
 
 He immediately walked to the front and called 
 out : 
 
 " Gentlemen, if you wish it Mrs. Mavor will 
 
 • 5> 
 
 Sing. 
 
 There was a dead silence. Some one began to 
 ap'ilaud, but a miner said savagely :
 
 Black Rock. 63 
 
 •* Stop that, you fool ! " 
 
 There was a few moments' delay, when from the 
 crowd a voice called out, " Does Mrs. Mavor wish 
 to sing ? " followed by cries of " Aye, that's it." 
 Then Shaw, the foreman at the mines, stood up 
 in the audience and said : 
 
 "Mr. Craig and gentlemen, you know that 
 three years ago I was known as ' Old Ricketts,' 
 and that I owe all I am to-night, under God, to 
 Mrs. Mavor and " — with a little quiver in his 
 voice — " her baby. And we all know that for 
 two years she has not sung, and we all know 
 why. And what I say is that if she does not feel 
 like singing to-night she is not going to sing to 
 keep any drunken brute of Slavin's crowd quiet." 
 
 There were deep growls of approval all over 
 the church. I could have hus^ged Shaw^ then and 
 there. Mr. Craig went to Mrs. Mavor, and after 
 a word with her came back and said : 
 
 "Mrs. Mavor wishes me to thank her dear 
 friend Mr. Shaw, but says she would like to sing." 
 
 The response was perfect stillness. Mr. Craig 
 sat down to the organ and played the opening 
 bars of the touching melody, "Oft in the Stilly 
 Night." Mrs. Mavor came to the front, and with 
 a smile of exquisite sweetness upon her sad face, 
 and looking straight at us with her glorious eyes, 
 began to sing.
 
 64 Black Rock. 
 
 Her voice, a rich soprano, even and true, rose and 
 fell, now soft, now strong, but always filling the 
 building, pouring around us floods of music. I 
 had heard Patti's " Home, Sweet Home," and of 
 all singing that alone affected me as did this. 
 
 At the end of the first verse the few Tvomen in 
 the church and some men were weeping quietly^ 
 but when she began the words — ■ 
 
 " When I remember all 
 The friends once linked together," 
 
 sobs came on every side from these tender-hearted 
 fellows, and Shaw quite lost his grip. But she 
 sang steadily on, the tone clearer and sweeter and 
 fuller at every note, and when the sound of her 
 voice died away, she stood looking at the men as 
 if in wonder that they should weep. No one 
 moved. Mr. Craig played softly on, and, wan- 
 dering through many variations, arrived at last at 
 
 " Jesus, lover of my soul." 
 
 As she sang the appealing words her face was 
 lifted up and she saw none of us ; but she must 
 have seen some one, for the cry in her voice could 
 only come from one who could see and feel lielp 
 close at hand. On and on went the glorious 
 voice, searching my soul's depths ; but when she 
 came to the words — 
 
 " Thou, O Christ, art all I want,"
 
 Black Rock. 65 
 
 she stretched up her arms — she had quite forgot- 
 ten us, her voice had borne her to other worlds — 
 and sang with such a passion of abandon that ray 
 soul was ready to surrender anything, every- 
 thing. 
 
 Again Mr. Craig wandered on through his 
 changing chords till again he came to familiar 
 ground, and the voice began, in low, thrilling 
 tones, Bernard's great song of home — 
 
 " Jerusalem the golden." 
 
 Every word, with all its weight of meaning, 
 came winging to our souls, till we found ourselves 
 gazing afar into those stately halls of Zion, with 
 their daylight serene and their jubilant throngs. 
 When the singer came to the last verse there 
 was a pause. Again Mr. Craig softly played the 
 interlude ; but still there was no voice. I 
 looked up. She was very white and her eyes were 
 glowing with their deep light. Mr. Craig looked 
 quickly about, saw her, stopped and half rose, as 
 if to go to her, when, in a voice that seemed to 
 come from a far-off land, she went on — 
 
 "0 sweet and blessed country I" 
 
 The longing, the yearning in the second " O " 
 were indescribable. Again and again, as she held 
 that word and then dropped down with the 
 5
 
 66 Black Rock- 
 
 cadence in the music, my heart ached for I knew 
 not what. 
 
 The audience were sitting as in a trance. The 
 grimy faces of the miners — for they never get 
 quite white — were furrowed with the tear-courses. 
 Shaw by this time had his face too lifted high, 
 his eyes gazing far above the singer's head, and 
 I knew by the rapture in his face that he was 
 seeing, as she saw, the thronging stately halls and 
 the white-robed conquerors. He had felt and was 
 still feeling all the stress of the fight, and to him 
 the vision of the conquerors in their glory was 
 soul-drawing and soul-stirring. And Nixon, too — 
 he had his vision ; but what he saw was the face 
 of the singer with the shining eyes, and by the 
 look of him that was vision enough. 
 
 Immediately after her last note Mrs. Mavor 
 stretched out her hands to her littlegirl, who was 
 sitting on her knee, caught her up, and, holding 
 her close to her breast, walked quickly behind 
 the curtain. Not a sound followed the singing; 
 no one moved till she had disappeared ; and then 
 Mr. Craig came to the front, and, motioning to 
 me to follow Mrs. Mavor, began in a low, dis- 
 tinct voice : 
 
 " Gentlemen, it was not easy for Mrs. Mavor 
 to sing for us, and you know she sang because 
 she is a miner's wife, and her heart is with the
 
 Black Rock. t^ 
 
 miners. But she sang, too, because her heart is 
 Ilis who came to earth this day so many years 
 ago to save us all ; and she would make you love 
 Him, too. For in loving Him you are saved from 
 all base loves, and you know what I mean. 
 
 " And before we say good night, men, I want 
 to know if the time is not come when all of you 
 who mean to be better than you are should 
 join in putting from us this thing that has brought 
 sorrow and shame to us and to those we love. You 
 know what I mean. Some of you are strong. 
 Will you stand by and see weaker men robbed of 
 the money they save for those far away, and 
 robbed of the manhood that no money can buy or 
 restore ? 
 
 " Will the strong men help ? Shall we all join 
 hands in this ? What do you say ? In this town 
 we have often seen hell, and just a moment ago 
 we were all looking into heaven, 'the sweet and 
 blessed country.' O men ! " — and his voice rang in 
 an agony through the building — "Omenl which 
 shall be ours? For Heaven's dear sake, let us 
 help one another ! Who will ? " 
 
 I was looking out through a slit in the curtain. 
 The men, already wrought to intense feeling by 
 the music, were listening with set faces and gleam- 
 ing eyes, and as at the appeal " Who will ? " 
 Craig raised high his hand, Shaw, NixoUj, and a
 
 68 Black Rock. 
 
 hundred men sprang to their feet and held high 
 their hands. 
 
 I have witnessed some thrilling scenes in my 
 life, but never anything to equal that : the one 
 man on the platform standing at full height, with 
 his hand thrown up to heaven, and the hundred 
 men below standing straight, with arms up at 
 full length, silent and almost motionles. 
 
 For a moment Craig held them so, and again 
 his voice rang out, louder, sterner than before : 
 
 " All who mean it, say, ' By God's help, I will.' " 
 
 And back from a hundred throats came deep 
 and strong the words, " By God's help, I will." 
 
 At this point Mrs. Mavor, whom I had quite 
 forgotten, put her hand on my arm. " Go and 
 tell him," she panted, " I want them to come on 
 Thursday night, as they used to in the other days — 
 go — quick," and she almost pushed me out. I 
 gave Craig her message. lie held up his hand 
 for silence. 
 
 " Mrs. Mavor wishes me to say that she will be 
 glad to see you all, as in the old days, on Thursday 
 evening ; and I can think of no better place to 
 give formal expression to our pledge of this night." 
 
 There was a shout of acceptance, and then, at 
 some one's call, the long-pent-up feelings of the 
 crowd found vent in three mighty cheers for Mrs 
 Kavor,
 
 Black Rock. 69 
 
 " TTow for our old hymn," called out Mr. Craigj 
 *'and Mrs. Mavor will lead us." 
 
 He sat down at the organ, plaj'^ed a few bars 
 of " The Sweet By and By," and then Mrs. Mavor 
 began. But not a soul joined till the refrain was 
 reached, and then they sang as only men wif.h 
 their hearts on fire can sing. But after the last 
 refrain Mr. Craig made a sign to Mrs. Mayor, and 
 she sang alone, slowly and softly, and with eyes 
 looking far away — 
 
 " In the sweet by and by. 
 We shall meet or that beautiful shore.'' 
 
 There was no benediction — there seemed no 
 need ; and the men went quietly out. But over 
 and over again the voice kept singing in my ears 
 and in my heart, " We shall meet on that beau- 
 tiful shore." And after the sleigh-loads of men 
 had gone and left the street empty, as I stood 
 with Craig in the radiant moonlight that made the 
 great mountains about come near us, from Sandy's 
 sleigh we heard in the distance Baptiste's French- 
 English song ; but the song that floated down 
 with the sound of the bells from the miners' 
 sleigh was — 
 
 " We shall meet on that beautiful shore.'* 
 ** Poor old Shaw I " said Craig softly.
 
 70 Black Rock. 
 
 When the last sound had died away I turnea 
 
 to him and said : 
 
 " You have won your fight." 
 
 " We have won our fight. I was beaten," he re- 
 plied quickly, oS'ering me his hand. Then, taking 
 off^ his cap and looking up beyond the mountain, 
 tops and the silent stars, he added softly ; " Our 
 fight, but His victory." 
 
 And thinking it all over, I could not say but 
 perhaps he was right. 
 
 I
 
 Black Rock. 71 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 MKS. MAVOK's STOET. 
 
 The days that followed the Black Rock 
 Christmas were anxious days and weary, but not 
 for the brightest of my life would I change them 
 now; for as after the burning heat or rocking 
 storms the dying da}' lies beautiful in the tender 
 glow of the evening, so these days have lost their 
 weariness and lie bathed in a misty glory. The 
 years that bring us many ills and that pass so 
 stormfully over us bear away with them the ugli- 
 ness, the weariness, the pain that are theirs, 
 but the beauty, the sweetness, the rest they 
 leave untouched, for these are eternal. As 
 the mountains, that near at hand stand jagged 
 and scarred, in the far distance repose in their 
 soft robes of purple haze, so the rough present 
 fades into the past, soft and sweet and beau- 
 tiful. 
 
 I have set myself to recall the pain and anxiety 
 of those days and nights when we waited in fear 
 for the turn of the fever, but I can only think oj
 
 72 Black Rock. 
 
 the patience and gentleness and courage of her 
 who stood beside me, bearing more than half my 
 burden. And while I can see the face of Leslie 
 Graeme, ghastly or flushed, and hear his low 
 moaning or the broken words of his delirium, I 
 think chiefly of the bright face bending over him, 
 and of the cool, firm, swift-moving hands tliat 
 soothed and smoothed and rested, and the voice, 
 like the soft song of a bird in the twilight, that 
 never failed to bring peace. 
 
 Mrs. Mavor and I were much together during 
 those days. I made my home in Mr. Craig's 
 shack, but most of my time was spent beside my 
 friend. TVe did not see much, of Craig, for he 
 was heart-deep with the miners, laying plans for 
 the making of the league the following Thursday ; 
 and though he shared our anxiety and was ever 
 ready to relieve us, his thought and his talk had 
 mostly to do with the league. 
 
 Mrs. Mavor's evenings were given to the miners, 
 but her afternoons mostly to Graeme and to me, 
 and then it was I saw another side of her char- 
 acter. We would sit in her little dining-room, 
 where the pictures on the walls, the quaint old 
 silver, and bits of curiously cut glass all spoke of 
 other and different days, and thence we would 
 roam the world of literature and art. Keenly 
 sensitive to all the good and beautiful in these..
 
 Black Rock. 73 
 
 sho had her favorites among the masters, for 
 whom she was ready to do battle ; and when her 
 argument, instinct with fancy and vivid imagina- 
 tion, failed, she swept away all opposing opinion 
 with the swift rush of her enthusiasm ; so that 
 though I felt she was beaten, I was left without 
 words to reply. Shakespeare and Tennyson and 
 Durns she loved, but not Shelley nor Byron nor 
 even Wordsworth. Browning she knew not, and 
 therefore could not rank him with her noblest 
 three ; but when I read to her " A Death in the 
 Desert " and came to the noble words at the end 
 of the tale — 
 
 " For all was as I say, and now the man 
 Lies as he once lay, breast to breast with God," 
 
 the light shone in her eyes and she said : " Oh, that 
 is good and great. I shall get much out of him. 
 I had always feared he was impossible." And 
 " Paracelsus," too, stirred her ; but when I recited 
 the thrilling fragment, " Prospice," on to that 
 closing rapturous cry — 
 
 " Then a light, then thy breast, 
 O thou soul of my soul ! I shall clasp thee again,' 
 And with God be the rest ! " 
 
 the red color faded from her cheek, her breath 
 came in a sob, and she rose quickly and passed 
 out without a word. Ever after Browning was
 
 74 Black Rock. 
 
 among her gods. But when we talked of music, 
 she, adoring' "Wagner, soared upon wings of the 
 mighty Tannhauser, far above, into regions un- 
 known, leaving me to walk soberly with Bee- 
 thoven and Mendelssohn. Yet with all our free, 
 frank talk, there was all the while that in her 
 gentle courtesy which kept me from venturing 
 into any chamber of her life whose door she did 
 not set freely open to me. So I vexed myself 
 about her, and when Mr. Craig returned the next 
 week from the Landing, where he had been for 
 some days, my first question was : 
 
 " Who is Mrs. Mavor ? And how in the name 
 of all that is wonderful and unlikely does she 
 come to be here ? And why does she stay ? " 
 
 He would not answer then. Whether it was 
 that his mind was full of the coming struggle or 
 whether he shrank from the tale, I know not; 
 but that night, when we sat together beside his 
 fire, he told me the story while I smoked. He 
 was w^orn with his long, hard drive and with the 
 burden of his work, but as he went on with his 
 tale, looking into the fire as he told it, he forgot 
 all his present weariness and lived again the 
 scenes he painted for me. This was his story: 
 
 " I remember well my first sight of her as she 
 sprang from the front seat of the stage to the 
 ground, hardly touching her husband's hand. She
 
 Black Rock. 75 
 
 looked a mere girl. Let's see — five years ago— 
 she couldn't Lave been a day over twenty-three. 
 She looked barely twenty. Her swift glance 
 swept over the group of miners at the hotel door, 
 and then rested on the mountains standing in all 
 their autumn glory. 
 
 " I was proud of our mountains that evening. 
 Turning to her husband, she exclaimed : ' Oh, 
 Lewis, are they not grand? and lovely, too?' 
 Every miner lost his heart then and there, but all 
 waited for Abe, the driver, to give his verdict 
 before venturing an opinion. Abe said nothing 
 until he had taken a preliminary drink, and then, 
 calling all liand3 to fdl up, he lifted his glass high 
 and said solemnly : 
 
 " ' Boys, here's to her.' 
 
 " Like a flash ever}'- glass was emptied, and Abe 
 called out : ' Fill her up again, boys ! My 
 
 treat ! ' 
 
 " He was evidently quite worked up. Then he 
 began with solemn emphasis: 
 
 "'Boys, you hear me! She's a No. 1, triple 
 
 X, the pure quill with a bead on it: she's a ' 
 
 and for the first time in his Black Rock history 
 Abe was stuck for a word. Some one suggested 
 * angel.' 
 
 " ' Angel ! ' repeated Abe with infinite con- 
 tempt. * Angel be blowed ' (I paraphrase here) ;
 
 76 Black Rock. 
 
 * angels ain't in the same month with her. I'd 
 like to see any blanked angel swing my team 
 around them curves without a shiver.' 
 
 " ' Held the lines herself, Abe ? ' asked the 
 miner. 
 
 " ' That's what,' said Abe ; and then he went 
 off into a fusilade of scientific profanity, expres- 
 sive of his esteem for the girl who had swung his 
 team round the curves ; and the miners nodded to 
 each other and winked their entire approval of 
 Abe's performance, for this was his specialty. 
 
 " Yery decent fellow, Abe, but his talk wouldn't 
 print." 
 
 Here Craig paused, as if balancing Abe's virtues 
 and vices. 
 
 " Well," I urged, " who is she ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes," he said, recalling himself. " She is 
 an Edinburgh young lady — met Lewis Mavor, a 
 young Scotch-Englishman, in London — wealthy, 
 good famil}^, and all that, but fast and going to 
 pieces at home. His people, who own large 
 shares in these mines here, as a last resort sent 
 him out here to reform. Curiously innocent 
 ideas those old-country people have of the re- 
 forming properties of this atmosphere ! They 
 send their young bloods here to reform. Here ! 
 in this devil's camp-ground, where a man's lust is 
 his only law, and where, from sheer monotony, a
 
 Black Kock. 77 
 
 man must oetake himself to the only excitement 
 of the place — that offered by the saloon. Good 
 people in the East hold up holy hands of horror 
 at these godless miners ; but I tell you it's asking 
 these boys a good deal to keep straight and clean 
 in a place like this. I take my excitement in 
 fighting the devil and doing my work generally, 
 and that gives me enough ; but these poor chaps 
 • — hard-worked, homeless, with no break or change 
 — God help them and me ! " and his voice sank 
 low. 
 
 " Well," I persisted, " did Mavor reform ?" 
 
 Again he roused himself. 
 
 " Reform ? Not exactly. In six months he 
 had broken through all restraint ; and, mind you, 
 not the miners' fault — not a miner helped him 
 down. It was a sight to make angels weep when 
 Mrs. Mavor would come to the saloon door for 
 her husband. Every miner would vanish. They 
 could not look upon her shame, and they would 
 send Mavor forth in the charge of Billy Breen, a 
 queer little chap who had belonged to the Mavors 
 in some wav in the old countrv, and between 
 them they would get him home. How she stood 
 it puzzles me to this day ; but she never made any 
 sign and her courage never failed. It was always 
 a bright, brave, proud face she held u]) to the 
 world — except in church \ there it was dirlerent.
 
 78 Black Rock. 
 
 I used to preach my sermons, I believe, mostly 
 for her — but never so that she could suspect — as 
 bravely and as cheerily as I could. And as she 
 listened, and especially as she sang — how she used 
 to sinsr in those days ! — there was no touch of 
 pride in her face, though the courage never died 
 out, but appeal ! appeal ! I could have cursed 
 aloud the cause of her misery or wept for the pity 
 of it. Before her baby was born he seemed to pull 
 himself together, for he was quite mad about her, 
 and from the day the baby came — talk about 
 miracles ! — from that day he never drank a drop. 
 She gave the baby over to him, and the baby 
 simply absorbed him. 
 
 " He was a new man. He could not drink 
 whisky and kiss his baby. And the miners — it 
 was really absurd if it were not so pathetic. It 
 was the first baby in Black Rock, and they used 
 to crowd Mavor's shop and peep into the room at 
 the back of it — I forgot to tell you that when he 
 lost his position as manager he opened a hard- 
 ware shop, for his people chucked him and he was 
 too proud to write home for money — just for a 
 chance to be asked in to see the baby. 1 came 
 upon Kixon standing at the back of the shop after 
 he had seen the baby for the first time, sobbing 
 hard, and to my question he replied : ' It's just 
 like my own.' You can't understand this. But
 
 Black Rock. 79 
 
 to men who have lived so long in the mountains 
 that they have forgotten what a baby looks like, 
 who have had experience of humanity only in its 
 roughest, foulest form, this little mite, sweet and 
 clean, was like an angel fresh from heaven, the 
 one link in all that black camp that bound tHem 
 to what was purest and best in their past. 
 
 " And to see the mother and her baby handle 
 the miners ! 
 
 " Oh, it was all beautiful bej'^ond words I I 
 shall never forget the shock I got one night when 
 I found ' Old Ricketts ' nursing the baby. A 
 drunken old beast he was ; but there he was sit- 
 ting, sober enough, making extraordinary faces 
 at the baby, who was grabbing at his nose and 
 whiskers and cooing in blissful delight. Poor 
 ' Old Eicketts ' looked as if he had been caught 
 stealing, and muttered something about having 
 to go, gazed wildly round for some place in which 
 to lay the baby, when in came the mother, saying 
 in her own sweet, frank way : ' Oh, Mr. Ricketts ' 
 (she didn't find out till afterward his name was 
 Shaw), ' would you miiid keeping her just a little 
 longer ? I shall be back in a few minutes.' 
 And ' Old Ricketts ' guessed he could wait. 
 
 ** But in six months mother and baby, between 
 them, transformed ' Old Ricketts ' into Mr. Shaw, 
 fire boss of the mines. And then in the evenings
 
 8o Black Rock. 
 
 when she would be singing her baby to sleep, the 
 little shop would be full of miners, listening in 
 dead silence to the baby-songs, and the English 
 songs, and the Scotch songs she poured forth 
 without stint, for she sang more for them than 
 for her baby. N^o wonder they adored her. She 
 was so bright, so gay, she brought light with her 
 when she went into the camp, into the pits — for 
 she went do\yn to see the men work — or into a 
 sick miner's shack ; and many a man, lonely and 
 sick for home or wife, or baby or mother, found 
 in that back room cheer and comfort and courage, 
 and to many a poor broken wretch that room . 
 became, as one miner put it, ' the anteroom to 
 heaven.' " 
 
 Mr. Craig paused and I waited. Then he went 
 on slowly : 
 
 " For a year and a half that was the happiest 
 home in all the world till one day " 
 
 He put his face in his hands and shuddered. 
 
 " I don't think I can ever forget the awful hor- 
 ror of that bright fall afternoon when ' Old Rick- 
 etts ' came breathless to me and gasped, ' Come! 
 for the dear Lord's sake,' and I rushed after him. 
 At the mouth of the shaft lay three men dead. 
 One was Lewis Mavor. He had gone down to 
 superintend the running of a new drift ; the two 
 men, half drunk with Slavin's whisky, set olf a
 
 Black Rock. 8i 
 
 shot prematurely, to their own and Mavor's de- 
 struction. They M^ero badly burned, but his face 
 was untouched. A miner was sponging off the 
 bloody froth oozing from his lips. The others were 
 standing about waiting for me to speak. But I 
 could find no word, for my heart was sick, think- 
 ing, as they were, of the 3^oung mother and her 
 baby waiting at home. So I stood, looking 
 stupidly from one to the other, trying to find 
 some reason — coward that I was — why another 
 should bear the news rather than I. And while 
 we stood there, looking at one another in fear, 
 there broke upon us the sound of a voice mount- 
 ing high above the birch tops, singing — 
 
 " ' Will ye no' come back again ? 
 Will ye no' come back again ? 
 Better lo'ed ye canna be, 
 Will ye no' come back again ? ' 
 
 " A strange terror seized us. Instinctively the 
 men closed up in front of the body and stood in 
 silence. Kearer and nearer came the clear, sweet 
 voice, ringing like a silver bell up the steep — 
 
 " ' Sweet the lav'rock's note and lang, 
 Liltin' wildly up the glen, 
 But aye tae me he sings ae sang, 
 Will ye no' come back again ? ' 
 
 " Before the verse was finished * Old Ricketts * 
 6
 
 82 
 
 Black Rock. 
 
 had dropped on his knees, sobbing out brokenly, 
 * O God ! O God ! have pity, have pity, have 
 pity ! ' — and every man took off his hat. And 
 still the voice came nearer, singing so brightly 
 the refrain, 
 
 " * Will ye no' come back again ? ' 
 
 " It became unbearable. ' Old Ricketts ' sprang 
 suddenly to his feet and, gripping me b}"" the arm, 
 said piteously, * Ola, goto her ! for Heaven's sake, 
 go to her ! ' 1 next remember standing in her 
 path and seeing her holding out her hands full 
 of red lilies, crying out, ' Are they not lovely ? 
 Lewis is so fond of them ! ' "With the promise of 
 much finer ones I turned her down a path toward 
 the river, talking I know not what folly till her 
 great eyes grew grave, then anxious, and my 
 tongue stammered and became silent. Then, 
 laying her hand upon my arm, she said with 
 gentle s\veetness, ' Tell me your troul)le, Mr. 
 Craig,' and I knew my agony had come, and I 
 burst out : ' Oh, if it were only mine ! ' She 
 turned .quite white, and with her deep eyes — 
 you've noticed her e^^es — drawing the truth out 
 of mine, she said : ' Is it mine, Mr. Craig, and 
 my baby's?' I waited, thinking with what words 
 to begin. She put one hand to her heart, and 
 with the other caught a little poplar tree that
 
 Black Rock. 83 
 
 shivered under her grasp, and said with white lips, 
 but even more gently, ' Tell me.' I wondered at 
 ray voice being so steady as I said : ' Mrs. Mavor, 
 God will help you over.' 
 
 "She was a miner's wife and there was no 
 need for more. I could see the pattern of the 
 sunlight falling through the trees upon the grass. 
 I could hear the murmur of the river and the cry 
 of the catbird in the bushes, but we seemed to be 
 in a strange and unreal world. Suddenly she 
 stretched out her hands to me and with a little 
 moan said : ' Take me to him.' 
 
 " * Sit down for a moment or two,' 1 entreated. 
 
 " ' No ! no ! I am quite ready. See,' she added 
 quietly, ' I am quite strong.' 
 
 " I set off by a short cut leading to her home, 
 hoping the men would be there before us ; but, 
 passing me, she walked swiftly through the trees, 
 and I followed in fear. As we came near the 
 main path I heard the sound of feet, and I tried 
 to stop her, but she, too, had heard and knew. 
 ' Oh, let me go ! ' she said piteously ; ' you need 
 not fear.' And I had not the heart to stop her. 
 In a little opening among the pines we met the 
 bearers. When the men saw her they laid their 
 burden gently down upon the carpet of yellow 
 pine-needles, and then — for they had the hearts 
 of true men in them — they went away into the
 
 84 
 
 Black Rock. 
 
 bushes and left her alone with her dead. She 
 went swiftly to his side, making no cry, but kneel- 
 ins: beside him she stroked his face and hands, 
 and touched his curls with her fingers, murmur- 
 ing all the time soft words of love. ' Oh, my 
 darling, my bonnie, bonnie darling, speak to me ! 
 Will 3^e not speak to me just one little word? 
 Oh, my love, my love, my heart's love ! Listen, 
 my darling ! ' And she put her lips to his ear, 
 whispering, and then the awful stillness. Sud- 
 denly she lifted her head and scanned his face, 
 and then, glancing round with a wild surprise in 
 her eyes, she cried : 'He will not speak to me! 
 Oh, he will not speak to me ! ' I signed to the 
 men, and as they came forward I went to her and 
 took her hands. 
 
 " ' Oh,' she said, with a wail in her voice, ' he 
 will not speak to me.' The men were sobbing 
 aloud. She looked at them with wide-open eyes 
 of wonder. 'Why are they weeping? Will he 
 never speak to me again ? Tell me,' she insisted 
 gently. The words were running through my 
 head— 
 
 " ' There's a land that is fairer than day,' 
 
 and I said them over to her, holding her hands 
 firmly in mine. She gazed at me as if in a dream 
 and the light slowly faded from her eyes as she
 
 Black Rock. 85 
 
 said, tearing her hands from mine and waving 
 them toward the mountains and the woods : 
 
 " ' But nevermore here ? Nevermore here ?' 
 
 " I believe in heaven and the other life, but I 
 confess that for a moment it all seemed shadowy 
 beside the reality of this warm, bright world, full 
 of life and love. She was very ill for two nights, 
 and when the coffin was closed a new baby lay 
 in the father's arms. 
 
 " She slowly came back to life, but there were 
 no more songs. The miners still come about her 
 step and talk to her baby and bring her theit 
 sorrows and troubles ; but though she is always 
 gentle, almost tender with them, no man ever 
 says ' Sing.' And that is why I am glad she 
 sang last week. It will be good for her and good 
 for them." 
 
 " Why does she stay ? " I asked. 
 
 " Mavor's people wanted her to go to them," ho 
 replied. " They have money — she told me about 
 it — but her heart is in the grave up there under the 
 pines ; and besides, she hopes to do something 
 for the miners, and she will not leave them." 
 
 I am afraid I snorted a little impatiently as I 
 said : 
 
 " Nonsense ! Why, with her face, and manner, 
 and voice she could be anything she liked in 
 Edinburgh or in London."
 
 86 
 
 Black Rock. 
 
 " And why Edinburgh or London ? " he asked 
 coollj. 
 
 "Why?" I repeated a little hotly. "You 
 think this is better ? " 
 
 " Nazareth was good enough for the Lord of 
 glory," he answered, with a smile none too bright ; 
 but it drew ray heart to him and my heat was 
 gone. 
 
 " How long will she stay ? " I asked. 
 
 " Till her work is done," he replied. 
 
 "And when will that be?" I asked impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " When God chooses," he answered gravely ; 
 " and don't you ever think but that it is worth 
 while. One value of work is not that crowds 
 stare at it. Read history, man ! " 
 
 He rose abruptly and began to walk about. 
 
 " And don't miss the whole meaning of the 
 Life that lies at the foundation of your religion. 
 Yes," he added to himself, " the work is worth 
 doinff — worth even her doino'." 
 
 I could not think so then, but the light of the 
 after years proved him wiser than I. A man, to 
 see far, must climb to some height, and I was too 
 much upon the plain in those days to catch even 
 a glimpse of distant sunlit uplands of triumphant 
 achievement that lie beyond the valley of self- 
 sacrifice.
 
 Black Rock. 87 
 
 CHAPTER y. 
 
 THE MAKING OF THE LEAGUE. 
 
 Thursday morning found Craig anxious, even 
 gloomy, but with light in every line of his face. 
 I tried to cheer him in my clumsy way by chaf- 
 fing him about the league. But he did not blaze 
 up as he often did. It was a thing too near his 
 heart for that. He only shrank a little from my 
 stupid chaff and said : 
 
 " Don't, old chap. This is a good deal to me. 
 I've tried for two years to get this, and if it falls 
 through now I shall find it hard to bear." 
 
 Then I repented my light words and said : 
 
 " Why, the thing will go sure enough. After 
 that scene in the church they won't go back." 
 
 " Poor fellows ! " he said as if to himself. 
 " "Whisky is about the only excitement they have, 
 and they find it pretty tough to give it up ; and 
 a lot of the men are against the total abstinence 
 idea. It seems rot to them." 
 
 " It is pretty steep," I said. '' Can't you do 
 without it ? " 
 
 " No, I fear not. There is nothing else for it.
 
 88 Black Rock. 
 
 Some of them talk of compromise. They want to 
 (juit the siiloon and drink quietly in their shacks. 
 The moderate drinker may have his place in 
 other countries, though I can't see it. I haven't 
 thought that out, but here the only safe man is the 
 man who quits it dead and fights it straight ; any- 
 thing else is sheerest humbug and nonsense." 
 
 I had not gone in much for total abstinence up 
 to this time, chiefly because its advocates seemed 
 for the most part to be somewhat ill-balanced ; 
 but as I listened to Craig I began to feel that per- 
 haps there was a total abstinence side to the 
 temperance question ; and as to Black Rock, I 
 could see how it must be one thing or the other. 
 
 We found Mrs. Mavor brave and bright. She 
 shared Mr. Craig's anxiety, but not his gloom. 
 Her courage was of that serene kind that refuses 
 to believe defeat possible and lifts the spirit into 
 the triumph of final victory. Through the past 
 week she had been carefully disposing her forces 
 and winning recruits. And yet she never seemed 
 to urge or persuade the men ; but as evening after 
 evening the miners dropped into the cozy room 
 down-stairs, with her talk and her songs she 
 charmed them till they were wholly hers. She 
 took for granted their loyalty, trusted them 
 ut terly, and so made it difficult for them to be 
 ot "ver than true men.
 
 Black Rock. 89 
 
 That night Mrs. Mavor's large storeroom, which 
 had been fitted up with scats, was crowded with 
 miners when Mr. Craig and I entered. 
 
 After a glance over the crowd Craig said : 
 " There's the manager ; that means war." And 
 I saw a tall man, very fair, whose chin fell away 
 to the vanishing point and whose hair was parted 
 in tiie middle, talking to Mrs. Mavor. She was 
 dressed in some rich soft stuif that became her 
 well. She was looking beautiful as ever, but 
 there was something quite new in her manner. 
 Iler air of good-fellowship was gone, and she Avas 
 the high-bred lady, whose gentle dignity and 
 sweet grace, while very winning, made famili- 
 arity impossible. 
 
 The manager was doing his best and appeared 
 to be well pleased with himself. 
 
 " She'll get him if any one can. I failed," 
 said Craig. 
 
 I stood looking at the men, and a fine lot of 
 fellows they were. Free, easy, bold in their bear- 
 ing, they gave no sign of rudeness ; and from 
 their frequent glances toward Mrs. Mavor, I could 
 see they were always conscious of her presence. 
 No men are so truly gentle as are the Westerners 
 in the presence of a good woman. They were 
 evidently of all classes and ranks originally, but 
 now, and in this country of real measurements.
 
 90 Black Rock. 
 
 they ranked simply according to the " man " in 
 them. 
 
 " See that handsome young chap of dissipated 
 appearance ? " said Craig. " That's Vernon Win- 
 ton, an Oxford graduate, blue blood, awfully 
 plucky, but quite gone. When he gets repentant, 
 instead of shooting himself he comes to Mrs. 
 Mavor. Fact." 
 
 " From Oxford University to Black Eock min- 
 ing camp is something of a step," I replied. 
 
 " That queer-looking little chap in the corner 
 is Billy Breen. How in the world has he got 
 here ? " went on Mr. Craig. 
 
 Queer-looking he w^as. A little man, with a 
 small head set on heavy square shoulders, long 
 arms, and huge hands that sprawled all over his 
 body ; altogether a most ungainly specimen of 
 humanity. 
 
 By this time Mrs. Mavor had finished with the 
 manager and was in the center of a group of 
 miners. Her grand air was all gone and she was 
 their comrade, their friend, one of themselves. 
 Kor did she assume the role of entertainer, but 
 rather did she, with half-shy air, cast herself 
 upon their chivalry, and they were too truly 
 gentlemen to fail her. It is hard to make West- 
 ern men, and especially old-timers, talk. But 
 this gift was hers, and it stirred my admiration
 
 Black Rock. 91 
 
 to see her draw on a grizzled veteran to tell how, 
 twenty years ago, he had crossed the Great 
 Divide, and had seen and done what no longer 
 fell to men to see or do in these new days. And 
 so she won the old-timer. But it was beautiful to 
 see the innocent ouile with which she caught 
 Billy Breen and drew him to her corner near the 
 organ. What she was saying I knew not, but 
 poor Billy was protesting, waving his big hands. 
 
 The meeting came to order, with Shaw in the 
 chair and the handsome vounof Oxford man 
 secretary. Shaw stated the object of the meet- 
 ing in a few halting words ; but when he came 
 to speak of the pleasure he and all felt in being to- 
 gether in that room, his words flowed in a stream, 
 warm and full. Then there was a pause and Mr. 
 Craig was called. But he knew better than to 
 speak at that point. Finally Kixon rose hesi- 
 tatingly, but as he caught a bright smile from 
 Mrs. Mavor he straightened himself as for a fight. 
 
 " I ain't no good at making speeches," he be- 
 gan ; " but it ain't speeches we want. "We've got 
 somethin' to do, an' what we Avant to know is 
 how to do it. An' to be right plain, we want to 
 know how to drive this cursed whisky out o' 
 Black Hock. You all know what it's doin' fer 
 us — at least fer some of us. An it's time to stop 
 it now, or fer some of us it'll mighty soon be too
 
 92 Black Rock. 
 
 late. An' the only way to stop its work is to quit 
 drinkin' it an' help others to quit. 1 hear some 
 talk of a league, an' what I say is, if it's a league 
 outan' outag'inst whisky, a total abstinence right 
 to the ground, then I'm with it. That's my talk. 
 I move we make that kind o' league." 
 
 Nixon sat down amid cheers and a chorus of re- 
 marks. "Good man!" "That's the talk!" 
 " Stay with it ! " but he waited for the smile and 
 the glance that came to him from the beautiful 
 face in the corner, and with that he seemed con- 
 tent. 
 
 Again there was silence. Then the secretary 
 rose with a slight flush upon his handsome, deli- 
 cate face and seconded the motion. If they 
 would pardon a personal reference he would give 
 them his reasons. He had come to this countrv 
 to make his fortune ; now he was anxious to make 
 enough to enable him to go home with some de- 
 gree of honor. His home held everything that 
 was dear to him. Between him and that home, 
 between him and all that was good and beautiful 
 and honorable, stood whisky. " I am ashamed to 
 confess," and the flush deepened on his cheek and 
 his lips grew thinner, " that I feel the need of 
 some such league." His handsome face, his per- 
 fect style of address, learned possibly in the 
 " Union," but, more than all, his show of nerve—
 
 Black Rock. 93 
 
 for these men knew how to value that — made a 
 strong impression on his audience ; but there were 
 no following cheers. 
 
 Mr. Craig appeared hopeful ; but on Mrs. Mavor's 
 face there was a look of wistful, tender pity, for 
 she knew how much the words had cost the lad. 
 
 Then up rose a sturdy, hard-featured man, with 
 a burr in his voice that proclaimed his birth. 
 His name was George Crawford, I afterward 
 learned, but every one called him Geordie. He 
 was a character in his wa}'^, fond of his glass; 
 but though he was never known to refuse a drink, 
 he was never known to be drunk. He took his 
 drink, for the most part, with bread and cheese 
 in his own shack, or with a friend or two in a 
 sober, respectable way, but never could be induced 
 to join the wild carousals in Slavin's saloon. He 
 made the highest wages, but was far too true a 
 Scot to spend his money recklessly. Every one 
 waited eagerly to hear Geordie's mind. He spoke 
 solemnly, as befitted a Scotsman expressing a de- 
 liberate opinion, and carefully, as if choosing his 
 best English, for when Geordie became excited 
 no one in Black Rock could understand him. 
 
 " Maister Chairman," said Geordie, " I'm aye 
 for temperance in a' things." There was a shout 
 of laughter, at which Geordie gazed around in 
 pained surprise. " I'll no' deny," he went on in
 
 94 Black Rock. 
 
 an explanatory tone, " that I tak ma mornm', 
 an' maybe a nip at noon, an' a Avee drap aifter wark 
 in the evenin', an' whiles a sip o' toddy wi' a freen 
 thae cauld nichts. But I'm no' a guzzler, an' I 
 dinna gang in A\i' thae loons flingin' aboot guid 
 money." 
 
 " An' that's thrue for you, me bye," interrupted 
 a rich Irish brogue, to the delight of the crowd 
 and the amazement of Geordie, who went calmlv 
 on : 
 
 " An' I canna bide yon saloon whanr they sell 
 sic awfu'-like stuff — it's mair like lye nor good 
 whusky — and whaur ye're never sure o' yer richt 
 change. It's an awfu'-like place. Mon ! " — and 
 Geordie began to warm up — " ye can juist smell 
 the sulphur when ye gang in. But I dinna care 
 about thae temperance soceeities, wi' their pledges 
 an' havers ; an' I canna see what hairm can come 
 till a mon by takin' a bottle o' guid Glenlivet hame 
 wi' him. I canna bide thae teetotal buddies." 
 
 Geordie's speech was followed by loud applause, 
 partly appreciative of Geordie himself, but large- 
 ly sympathetic with his position. 
 
 Two or three men followed in the same strain, 
 advocating a league for mutual improvement and 
 social purposes, but without the teetotal pledge ; 
 they were against the saloon, but didn't see why 
 they should not take a drink now and then.
 
 Black Rock. 95 
 
 Finally the manager rose to support bis " friend 
 Mistah — ah — Cwafoad," ridiculing the idea of a 
 total abstinence pledge as fanatical and indeed 
 "absuad." lie was opposed to the saloon, and 
 would like to see a club formed, with a comfort- 
 able club-room, books, magazines, pictures, games 
 — anything, " dontcheknow, to make the time pass 
 pleasantly ; " but it was " absuad to ask men to 
 abstain fwora a pwopah use of — aw — nouwishing 
 dwinks" — because some men made beasts of 
 themselves. He concluded by offering fifty dol- 
 lars toward the support of such a club. 
 
 The current of feeling was setting strongly 
 against the total abstinence idea, and Craig's face 
 was hard and his eyes gleamed like coals. Then 
 he did a bit of generalship. He proposed that 
 since they had the two plans clearly before them 
 they should take a few minutes' intermission in 
 which to make up their minds, and he was sure they 
 would be glad to have Mrs. Mavor sing. In the 
 interval the men talked in groups, eagerly, even 
 fiercely, hampered seriously in the forceful ex- 
 pression of their opinion by the presence of Mrs. 
 Mavor, who glided from group to group, drop- 
 ping a word here and a smile there. She re- 
 minded me of a general riding along the ranks, 
 bracing his men for the coming battle. She 
 paused beside Geordie, spoke earnestly for a few
 
 96 Black Rock. 
 
 moments, while Geordie gazed solemnly at her, 
 and then she came back to Billy in the corner 
 near me. What she was saying I could not hear, 
 but poor Billy was protesting, spreading his hands 
 out aimlessly before him, but gazing at her the 
 while in dumb admiration. Then she came to 
 me. 
 
 " Poor Billy, he was good to my husband," she 
 said softly, " and he has a good heart. " 
 
 " He's not much to look at, " I could not help 
 saying. 
 
 " The oyster hides its pearl," she answered, a 
 little reproachfully. 
 
 " The shell is apparent enough," I replied, for 
 the mischief was in me. 
 
 " Ah, yes, " she replied softly, " but it is the 
 pearl we love." 
 
 I moved over beside Billy, whose eyes were fol- 
 lowing Mrs. Mavor as she went to speak to Mr. 
 Craig. 
 
 " Well," I said, " you all seem to have a high 
 opinion of her." 
 
 " A 'igh h opinion ? " he replied in deep scorn. 
 "A 'igh hopinion, you calls it ? " 
 
 " What would you call it ? " I asked, wishing 
 to draw him out. 
 
 " Oi don't call it nothink," he replied, spread, 
 ing out his rough hands.
 
 Black Rock. 97 
 
 •* She seems very nice," I said, indifferently^ 
 
 He drew his ej'^es away from Mrs. Mavor and 
 gave attention to me for the first time. 
 
 "Nice ! " he repeated with fine contempt ; and 
 then he added impressively : " Them as don't 
 know shouldn't say nothink." 
 
 " You are right," I answered earnestly, " and I 
 am quite of your opinion." 
 
 He gave me a quick glance out of his little, 
 deep-set, dark-blue eyes, and opened his heart to 
 me. He told me, in his quaint speech, how again 
 and again she had taken him in and nursed him 
 and encouraged him, and sent him out with a new 
 heart for his battle, until, for very shame's sake 
 at his own miserable weakness, he had kept out of 
 her way for many months, going steadily down. 
 
 " Now, Oi hain't got no grip ; but when she 
 says to me to-night, says she, ' Oh, Billy ' — she 
 calls me Billy to myself " (this with a touch of 
 pride) — " ' oh, Billy,' says she, ' we must 'ave a 
 total habstinence league to-night, an' Oi want 
 you to 'elp ! ' an' she keeps a-lookin' at me with 
 those heyes o' her'n till, if you believe me, sir," 
 lowering his voice to an emphatic whisper, 
 "though Oi knowed Oi couldn't 'elp none, afore 
 Oi knowed Oi promised 'er Oi would. It's 'er 
 heyes. When them heyes says 'do,' hup you 
 steps* an' 'does.'" 
 7
 
 98 Black Rock. 
 
 I remembered my first look into her eyes, and 
 I could quite understand Billy's submission. Ju-st 
 as she began to sing I went over to Geordie aud 
 took my seat beside him. She began with an 
 English slumber song, " Sleep, Baby, Sleep " — one 
 of Barry Cornwall's, I think — and then sang a 
 love song with the refrain, " Love once again ; '* 
 but no thrills came to me, and I began to wonder 
 if her spell over me was broken. Geordie, who 
 had been listening somewhat indifferently, en- 
 couraged me, however, by saying : " She's just 
 pittin' aff time, with thae feckless sangs ; mon, 
 there's nae grup till them." But when, after a 
 few minutes' pause, she began " My Ain Fireside," 
 Geordie gave a sigh of satisfaction. "Aye, that's 
 somethin' like," and when she finished the first 
 verse he gave me a dig in the ribs with his elbow 
 that took my breath away, saying in a whisper : 
 " Mon, hear till 3' on, wull ye ? " And again I found 
 the spell upon me. It was not the voice, after 
 all, but the great soul behind that thrilled and 
 compelled. She was seeing, feeling, living what 
 she sang, aud her voice showed us her heart. 
 The cozy fireside, with its bonnie, blithe blink, 
 where no care could abide, but only peace and 
 love, was vividly present to her, and as she sang 
 we saw it toa When she came to the last 
 verse —
 
 Black Rock. 99 
 
 ** When I draw in my stool 
 On my cozy hearthstane, 
 My heart loups sae licht 
 I scarce ken't for my ain, " 
 
 there was a feeling of tears in the flowing song, 
 and we knew the words had brought her a 
 picture of the fireside that would always seem 
 empty. I felt the tears in my eyes, and, wonder- 
 ing at myself, I cast a stealthy glance at the men 
 about me ; and I saw that they, too, were looking 
 through their hearts' windows upon firesides and 
 ingle-nooks that gleamed from far. 
 
 And then she sang " The Auld Hoose," and 
 Geordie, giving me another poke, said, " That's 
 ma ain sang," and when I asked him what he 
 meant he whispered fiercely, " Wheesht, mon ! " 
 and I did, for his face looked dangerous. 
 
 In a pause between the verses I heard Geordie 
 saying to himself: "Aye, I maun gie it up, I 
 doot." 
 
 « What ? " I ventured. 
 
 "ISTaething ava." And then he added impa- 
 tiently, " Mon, but ye're an inqueesitive buddie, " 
 after which I subsided into silence. 
 
 Immediately upon the meeting being called to 
 order Mr. Craig made his speech, and it was a 
 fine bit of work. Beginning with a clear state- 
 ment of the object in view, he set in contrast the
 
 100 Black Rock. 
 
 two kinds of leagues proposed. One, a league of 
 men who would take whisky in moderation ; the 
 other, a league of men who were pledged to drink 
 none themselves and to prevent in every honor- 
 able way others from drinking. There was no 
 long argument, but he spoke at white heat ; and 
 as he appealed to the men to think, each not of 
 hinself alone, but of the others as well, the yearn- 
 ing, born of his long months of desire and of toil, 
 vibrated in his voice and reached to the heart. 
 Many men looked uncomfortable and uncertain, 
 and even the manager looked none too cheerful. 
 
 At this critical moment the crowd got a shock. 
 Eilly Breen shuffled out to the front, and in a 
 voice shaking with nervousness and emotion began 
 to speak, his large, coarse hands wandering trem- 
 ulouslv about. 
 
 " Oi hain't no bloomin' temp'rance horator, an' 
 mayhap Oi hain't no right to speak 'ere, but Oi 
 got somethin' to saigii [sa}'^] an' Oi'm a-goin' to 
 saigh it. 
 
 " Parson, 'e says is it wisky or no wisky in this 
 'ere club ? If ye hask me, wich [which] ye don't, 
 then no wisky, says Oi ; an' if ye hask why ? — 
 look at me ! Once Oi could mine more coal than 
 hany man in the camp ; now Oi hain't fit to be a 
 sorter. Once Oi 'ad some pride an' harabltion : 
 now Oi 'angs round a-waitin' for some one t'
 
 Black Rock. loi 
 
 saigh, * 'Ere, Billy, 'ave summat.' Once Oi made 
 good ])aigh [pay], an' sent it 'ome reg'lar to my 
 pore old mother (she's in the wukus now, she is) ; 
 Oi hain't sent 'er han v for a vear an' a 'alf. Once 
 Billy was a good fellow an' 'ad plenty o' friends ; 
 now Slavin 'isself kicks un hout, 'e does. Why ? 
 why?" His voice rose to a shriek. "Because 
 when Billy 'ad money in 'is pocket, hevery man 
 in this bloomin' camp as meets un at hevery corner 
 says, ' 'EUo, Billy, wat'll ye 'ave ? ' An' there's 
 wisky at Slavin's, an' there's wisky in the shacks, 
 an' hevery 'oliday an' hevery Sunday there's 
 wisky, an' w'en ye feel bad it's wisky, an' w'en ye 
 feel good it's wisky, an' hevery where an'halways 
 it's wisky, wisky, wisky ! An' now ye're goin' to 
 stop it, an' 'ow ? T' manager, 'e says pictei's an' 
 magazines. 'E takes 'is wine an' 'is beer like a 
 gen'lman, 'e does, an' 'e don't 'ave no use for Billy 
 Breen. Bil^v, 'e's a beast, an' t' manager, 'e 
 kicks un hout. But supposin' Billy wants to stop 
 bein' a beast an' starts a-tryin' to be a man Sb^^m, 
 an' w'en 'e gits good an' dry, along comes some 
 un an' says, ' 'Ello, Billy, 'ave a smile,' it hain't 
 picters nor magazines 'ud stop un then. Picters 
 an' magazines ! Gawd 'elp the man as hain't 
 nothin' but picters an' magazines to 'elp un w'en 
 'e's got a devil hinside an' a devil houtside 
 a-shovin' an' a-drawin' of un down to 'elL An'
 
 102 Black Rock. 
 
 that's w'ere Oi'm a-goin' straight, an' yer bloomin' 
 league, wisky or no wisky, can't 'elp me. But," 
 and he lifted his trembling hands above his head, 
 " if ye stop the wisky a-fiowin' round this camp, 
 ye'll stop some o' these lads that's a-follerin' me 
 'ard. Yes, you ! an' you ! an' you ! " and his 
 voice rose to a wild scream as he shook a trem- 
 bling finger at one and another. 
 
 " Mon, it's fair grewsome tae hear him," said 
 Geordie ; " he's no' canny ; " and reaching out 
 for Billy as he went stumbling past, he pulled 
 Lira down to a seat beside him, saying : " Sit 
 doon, lad, sit doon. We'll mak a mon o' ye yet." 
 Then he rose and, using many r's, said : " Mais- 
 ter Chairman, I doot we'll juist hae to gie it up." 
 
 " Give it up ? " called out Nixon. " Give up 
 the league ? " 
 
 " Na ! na ! lad, but juist the wee drap whusky. 
 It's nae that guid, onyway, an' it's a terrible 
 price. Mon, gin ye gang tae Henderson's in 
 Buchanan Street, in Gleska, ye ken, ye'll get 
 mair for three an' saxpence than ye wull at 
 Slavin's for five dollars. An' it'll no' pit ye mad 
 like yon stuff, but it gangs doon smooth an' saft- 
 like. But " (regretfully) " ye no' can get it here ; 
 an' I'm thinkin' I'll juist sign yon teetotal thing." 
 And up he strode to the table and put his name 
 down in the book Craig had ready. Then to Billy
 
 Black Rock. 103 
 
 he said : " Come awa, lad ! pit yer name doon, an' 
 we'll Stan' by ye." 
 
 Poor Billy looked around helplessly, his nerve 
 all ffone, and sat still. There was a swift rustle 
 of garments, and Mrs. Mavor was beside him, 
 and in a voice that only Billy and I could hear 
 said : 
 
 " You'll sign with me, Billy ? " 
 
 Billy gazed at her wath a hopeless look in his 
 eyes and shook his little head. She leaned 
 slightly toward him, smiling brightly, and 
 touching his arm gently said : 
 
 "Come, Billy, there's no fear," and in a lower 
 voice, " God will help you." 
 
 As Billy went up, following Mrs. Mavor close, 
 a hush fell on the men until he had put his name 
 to the pledge ; then they came up, man by man, 
 and signed. But Craig sat with his head down 
 till I touched his shoulder. He took my hand 
 and held it fast, saying over and over, under his 
 breath, « Thank God ! thank God ! " 
 
 And so tiie league was made.
 
 I04 Black Rock. 
 
 CHAPTER yi. 
 
 BLACK KOCK EELIGION. . 
 
 "When I grow weary with the conventions of 
 religion and sick in my soul from feeding upon 
 husks that the churches too often offer me in the 
 shape of elaborate services and eloquent discourses, 
 so that in my sickness I doubt and doubt, then I 
 go back to the communion in Black Eock and the 
 days preceding it, and the fever and the weari- 
 ness leave me and I grow humble and strong. 
 The simplicity and rugged grandeur of the faith, 
 the humble gratitude of the rough men I see 
 about the table, and the calm radiance of one 
 saintly face rest and recall me. 
 
 Not its most enthusiastic apologist would caE 
 Black Rock a religious community, but it pos- 
 sessed in a marked degree that eminent Christian 
 virtue of tolerance. All creeds, all shades of re- 
 ligious opinions were allowed, and it was gener- 
 ally conceded that one was as good as another. 
 It is fair to say, however, that Black Rock's cath- 
 olicity was negative rather than positive. The 
 only religion objectionable was that insisted upon
 
 Black Rock. 105 
 
 as a necessity. It never occurred to any one to 
 consider religion other than as a respectable, if 
 not ornamental, addition to life in older lands. 
 
 During the weeks following the making of the 
 league, however, this negative attitude toward 
 things religious gave place to one of keen investi- 
 gation and criticism. The indifference passed 
 away, and with it, in a large measure, the toler- 
 ance. Mr. Craig was responsible for the former 
 of these changes, but hardly, in fairness, could he 
 be held responsible for the latter. If any one 
 more than another was to be blamed for the rise 
 of intolerance in the village, that man was Geordie 
 Crawford. He had his " lines " from the Estab- 
 lished Kirk of Scotland, and when Mr. Craig an- 
 nounced his intention of having the sacrament of 
 the Lord's Supper observed, Geordie produced his 
 " lines " and promptly handed them in. As no 
 other man in the village was equipped with like 
 spiritual credentials, Geordie constituted himself 
 a kind of kirk session, charged with the double 
 duty of guarding the entrance to the Lord's Table 
 and of keeping an eye upon the theological opin- 
 ions of the community, and more particularly 
 upon such members of it as gave evidence of pos- 
 sessing any opinions definite enough for state- 
 ment. 
 
 It came to be Mr. Craig's habit to drop into the
 
 io6 Black Rock. 
 
 league room, and toward the close of the evening 
 to have a short Scripture lesson from the gospels. 
 Geordie's opportunity came after the meeting 
 was over and Mr. Craig had gone awaj. The 
 men would hang about and talk the lesson over, 
 expressing opinions favorable or unfavorable as 
 appeared to them good. Then it was that all 
 sorts of views, religious and otherwise, were aired 
 and examined. The orginality of the ideas, the 
 absolute disregard of the authority of church or 
 creed, the frankness with which opinions were 
 stated, and the forcefulness of the language in 
 which they were expressed, combined to make the 
 discussions altogether marvelous. The passage 
 between Abe Baker, the stage driver, and Geordie 
 was jiarticularly rich. It followed upon a very 
 telling lesson on the parable of the Pharisee and 
 the publican. 
 
 The chief actors in that wonderful story were 
 transferred to the Black Rock stage and were 
 presented in miner's costume. Abe was particu- 
 larly well pleased with the scoring of the" blanked 
 old rooster who crowed so blanked high," and 
 somewhat incensed at the quiet remark interjected 
 by Geordie, that " it was nae credit till a mon tae 
 be a sinner ; " and when Geordie went on to urge 
 the importance of right conduct and respectabilitv, 
 Abe was led to pour forth vials of contemptuous
 
 Black Rock. 107 
 
 wrath upon the Pharisees and hypocrites who 
 thought themselves better than other people. 
 But Geordie was quite unruffled and lamented the 
 ignorance of men who, brought up in " Epeesco- 
 pawlyun or Methody " churches, could hardly be 
 expected to detect the Antinoraian or Arminian 
 heresies. 
 
 " Aunty Nomyun or Uncle Nomyun," replied 
 Abe, boiling hot, " my mother was a Methodist, 
 and I'll back any blanked Methodist against any 
 blankety blank longfaced, lantern-jawed, skinflint 
 Presbyterian," and this he was eager to maintain 
 to any man's satisfaction if he would step out- 
 side. 
 
 Geordie was quite unmoved, but hastened to 
 assure Abe that he meant no disrespect to his 
 mother, who he had " nae doot was a clever 
 enough buddie, tae judge by her son." Abe was 
 speedily appeased and offered to set up the drinks 
 all around. But Geordie, with evident reluctance, 
 had to decline, saying, " jSTa, na, lad. I'm a 
 league mon, 3'e ken," and I was sure that Geordie 
 at that moment felt that membership in the 
 league had its drawbacks. 
 
 Nor was Geordie too sure of Craig's orthodoxy ; 
 while as to Mrs. Mavor, whose slave he was, he 
 was in the habit of lamenting her doctrinal con- 
 dition :
 
 io8 Black Rock. 
 
 "She's a fine wumman, nae doot; but, puir 
 cratur, she's fair carried awa' wi' the errors o' 
 thae Epeescopawlyuns." 
 
 It fell to Geordie, therefore, as a sacred duty, 
 in view of the laxity of those who seemed to be 
 the pillars of the church, to be all the more Avatch- 
 ful and unyielding. But he was delightfully in- 
 consistent when confronted with particulars. In 
 conversation with him one night after one of the 
 meetings, when he had been specially hard upon 
 the ignorant and godless, I innocently changed 
 the subject to Billy Breen, whom Geordie had 
 taken to his shack since the night of the league. 
 He was very proud of Billj^'s success in the fight 
 against whisky, the credit of which he divided 
 unevenly between Mrs. Mavor and himself. 
 
 "He's fair daft aboot her," he explained to 
 me, " an' I'll no' deny but she's a great help, aye, 
 a verra conseederable asseestance ; but, mon, she 
 doesna ken the whusky an' the inside o' a man 
 that's wantin' it. Aye, puir buddie, she diz her 
 j)airt, an' when ye're a bit restless an' thrawn 
 aifter yer day's wark, it's like a walk in a bonnie 
 glen on a simmer eve, with the birds liltin' aboot, 
 tae sit in yon roomie an' hear her sing ; but when 
 the night is on an' ye canna sleep, but wauken 
 wi' an awfu' thurst an' wild dreams o' cozy fire- 
 sides an' the bonnie sparklin' glosses, as it is wi'
 
 Black Rock. 109 
 
 • 
 
 puir Billy, aye, it's then ye need a mon wi' aguid 
 grup beside ye." 
 
 "• What do you do then, Gecrdie ? " I asked. 
 
 " Go, aye, I juist gang for a bit walk wi' the lad, 
 an' then pits the kettle on an' maks a cup o' tea 
 or coffee, an' aff he gangs tae sleep like a bairn." 
 
 " Poor Billy," I said pityingly, " there's no hope 
 for him in the future, I fear." 
 
 " Hoot awa, mon," said Geordie quickly. " Ye 
 wadua keep oot a puir cratur frae creepin' in that's 
 daein' his best ? " 
 
 " But, Geordie," I remonstrated, " he doesn't 
 know anything of the doctrines. I don't believe 
 he could give us ' The Chief End of Man.' " 
 
 " An' wha's tae blame for that ? " said Geordie 
 with fine indignation. " An' maybe you remem- 
 ber the prood Pharisee an' the puir wumman 
 that cam' creepin' in ahint the Maister." 
 
 The mingled tenderness and indignation in 
 Geordie's face were beautiful to see, so I meekly 
 answered : 
 
 " Well, I hope Mr. Craig won't be too strict 
 with the boys." 
 
 Geordie shot a suspicious glance at me, but I 
 kept my face like a summer morn, anA he replied 
 cautiously : 
 
 " Aye, he's no' that streect ; but he maun exer- 
 ceese discreemination."
 
 no Black Rock. 
 
 Geordie was none the less determined, however, 
 that Billy should " corae forrit " ; but as to the 
 manager, who was a member of the English 
 Church, and some others who had been confirmed 
 years ago and had forgotten much and denied 
 more, he was extremely doubtful, and expressed 
 himself in very decided words to the m-in- 
 ister : 
 
 " Ye'U no' be askin' forrit thae Epeescopawlyun 
 buddies. They juist ken naething ava." 
 
 But Mr. Craig looked at him for a moment and 
 said, "'Him that cometh unto Me I will in no 
 wise cast out,' " and Geordie was silent, though he 
 continued doubtful. 
 
 "With all these somewhat fantastic features, 
 however, there was no mistaking the earnest 
 spirit of the men. The meetings grew larger 
 every night and the interest became more in- 
 tense. The singing became different. The men no 
 longer simply shouted, but as Mr. Craig would call 
 attention to the sentiment of the hymn the voices 
 would attune themselves to the words. Instead 
 of encouraging anything like emotional excite- 
 ment, Mr. Craig seemed to fear it. 
 
 " These chaps are easily stirred up,'* he would 
 say, " and I am anxious that they should know ex- 
 actly what they are doing. It is far too serious a 
 business to trifle with.."
 
 Black Rock. HI 
 
 Although Graeme did not go down-stairs to the 
 meetings, he could not but feel the throb of the 
 emotion beating in the heart of the community, 
 I used to detail for his beneiit, and sometimes for 
 his amusement, the incidents of each night. But 
 I never felt quite easy in dwelling upon the 
 humorous features in Mrs, Mayor's presence, 
 although Craig did not appear to mind. His 
 manner with Graeme was perfect. Openly anx- 
 ious to win him to his side, he did not improve 
 the occasion and vex him with exhortation. He 
 would not take him at a disadvantage, though, as 
 I afterward found, this was not his sole reason 
 for his method. Mrs. Mavor, too, showed her- 
 self in wise and tender light. She might have 
 been his sister, so frank was she and so openly 
 affectionate, laughing at his f retf ulness and sooth- 
 i ng his weariness. 
 
 Never were better comrades than we four, and 
 the bright days speeding so swiftly on drew us 
 nearer to one another. 
 
 But tlie briglit days came to an end, for Graeme, 
 wdien once he was able to go about, became anx- 
 ious to get back to the camp. And so the last 
 day came, a day I remember well. It was a 
 bright, crisp winter day. 
 
 The air was shimmering in the frost}^ light. The 
 mountains, with their shining heads piercing
 
 112 Black Rock. 
 
 through light clouds into that wonderful blue of 
 the western sky and their feet pushed into the 
 ]:)ine masses, gazed down upon Black Rock witn 
 calm, kindly looks on their old gray faces. How 
 one grows to love them, steadfast old friends ! 
 Far up among the pines we could see the smoke 
 of the engine at the works, and so still and so clear 
 was the mountain air that we could hear the puff 
 of the steam and from far down the river the mur- 
 mur of the rapids. The majestic silence, the tender 
 beauty, the peace, the loneliness, too, came steal- 
 ing in upon us as we three, leaving Mrs. Mavor 
 behind us, marched arm in arm down the street. 
 We had not gone fur on our way, when Graeme, 
 turning round, stood a moment looking back, 
 then waved his hand in farewell. Mrs. Mavor 
 was at her window, smiling and waving in return. 
 They had grown to be great friends, these two, 
 and seemed to have arrived at some understanding. 
 Certainly Graeme's manner to her was not that 
 he bore to other women. His half-quizzical, 
 somewhat superior air of mocking devotion gave 
 place to a simple, earnest almost tender respect 
 very new to him, but very winning. 
 
 As he stood there waving his farewell, I glanced 
 at his face and saw for a moment what I had not 
 seen for years, a faint flush on Graeme's cheek and 
 a light of simple, earnest faith in. his eyes. It
 
 Black Rock. 113 
 
 reminded me of my first look of him when he had 
 come up for his matriculation to the 'varsity. He 
 stood on the campus looking up at the noble old 
 pile, and there was the same bright, trustful, 
 earnest look on his boyish face. 
 
 I know not what spirit possessed me ; it may 
 have been the pain of the memory working in me, 
 but I said, coarsely enough, " It's no use, Graeme, 
 my boy. I would fall in love with her myself, 
 but there would be no chance even for me." 
 
 The flush slowly darkened as he turned and 
 said deliberately : 
 
 " It's not like you, Conaor, to be an ass of that 
 peculiar kind. Love ! — not exactly ! She won't 
 fall in love unless " 
 
 And he stopped abruptly with his ej'^es upon 
 Craig. 
 
 But Craig met him with unshrinking gaze, 
 quietly remarking, "Her heart is under the 
 pines;" and we moved on, each thinking his 
 own thoughts and guessing at the thoughts of 
 the others. 
 
 We were on our way to Craig's shack, and as 
 we passed the saloon Slavin stepped froin the 
 door with a salutation. Graeme paused. 
 
 " Hello, Slavin ! I got rather the worst of it, 
 
 didn't I ? " 
 
 Slavin came near and said earnestly : 
 8
 
 114 Black Rock. 
 
 " It was a dirty tbrick altogether. You'll not 
 think it was moine, Mr. Graeme." 
 
 " No, no, Slavin ! You stood up like a man," 
 said Graeme cheerfully. 
 
 " An' you bate me fair ; an' bedad it was a nate 
 one that laid me out ; an' there's no grudge in 
 me heart till ye." 
 
 " All right, Slavin. We'll perhaps understand 
 each other better after this." 
 
 " An' that's tbrue for yez, sor ; an' I'll see that 
 your byes don't get anny more than they ask 
 for," replied Slavin, backing away. 
 
 " And I hope tbat won't be much," put in Mr. 
 Craig ; but Slavin only grinned. 
 
 "When we came to Craig's shack Graeme was 
 glad to rest in the big chair. 
 
 Craig made him a cup of tea, while I smoked, 
 admiring much the deft neatness of the minister's 
 housekeeping and the gentle, almost motherly 
 way he had with Graeme. 
 
 In our talk we drifted into the future, and Craig 
 let us see what were his ambitions. The railroad 
 was soon to come. The resources were, as yet, 
 unexplored, but enough was known to assure a 
 great future for British Columbia. As he talked 
 his enthusiasm grew and carried us away. With 
 the eye of a general he surveyed the country, 
 fixed the strategic points which the Church must
 
 Black Rock. ii5 
 
 seize upon. Eip:lit good men would hold the 
 country from Fort Steele to the coast and from 
 Kootenay to Cariboo. 
 
 "The Church must be in Avith the railroad. 
 She must have a hand in the shaping of the 
 country. If society crystallizes without her in- 
 fluence the country is lost, and British Columbia 
 will be another trapdoor to the bottomless pit." 
 
 " What do you propose ? " I asked. 
 
 " Organizing a little congregation here in Black 
 Eock." 
 
 " How many will you get ? " 
 
 " Don't know." 
 
 " Pretty hopeless business," I said. 
 
 " Hopeless ! hopeless ! " he cried. " There were 
 only twelve of us at first to follow Him, and 
 rather a poor lot they were. But He braced them 
 up and they conquered the world." 
 
 " But surely things are different," said Graeme. 
 
 " ThiofTs ? Yes ! yes ! But He is the same." 
 
 His face had an exalted look, and his eyes were 
 gazing into far-away places. 
 
 " A dozen men in Black Rock with some real 
 grip of Him would make things go. "We'll get 
 them, too," he went on in growing excitement. 
 " I believe in my soul we'll get them." 
 
 " Look here, Craig : if you organize I'd like to 
 join," said Graeme impulsively. " I don't believe
 
 iio Black Rock. 
 
 much in your creed or your Church, but I'll be 
 blowed if 1 don't believe in you." 
 
 Craig looked at him with wistful eyes and shook 
 his head. 
 
 " It won't do, old chap, you know. I can't hold 
 you. You've got to have a grip of some one 
 better than I am ; and then, besides, I hardly 
 like asking you now " — he hesitated — " well, to 
 be out-and-out, this step must be taken not for 
 my sake nor for any man's sake, and I fancy that 
 perhaps you feel like pleasing me just now a 
 little." 
 
 " That I do, ol<l fellow^," said Graeme, putting 
 out his hand. " I'll be hanged if I won't do any- 
 thing yon say." 
 
 " That's w^hy I won't say," replied Craig. Then 
 reverently he added : " The organization is not 
 mine. It is my Master's." 
 
 " When are you going to begin ? " asked 
 Graeme. 
 
 " We shall have our communion service in two 
 weeks, and that will be our roll-call." 
 
 " How many will answer ? " I asked doubtfully. 
 
 " I know of three," he said quietly. 
 
 " Three ! There are two hundred miners and 
 one hundred and fifty lumbermen ! Three ! " 
 and Graeme looked at him in amazement. " You 
 think it worth while to organize three 'i "
 
 Black Rock. 117 
 
 " Well," replied Craig, smiling for the first time, 
 " the organization won't be elaborate, but it will be 
 effective, and, besides, loyalty demands obedience." 
 
 We sat long that afternoon talking, shrinking 
 from the breaking up ; for we knew that we were 
 about to turn down a chapter in our lives which 
 we should delight to linger over in after days. 
 And in my life there is but one brighter. At 
 last we said good-by and drove away, and though 
 many farewells have come in between that day 
 and this, none is so vividly present to me as that 
 between us three men. Craig's manner with me 
 was solemn enough. 
 
 "'He that loveth his life.' Good-b3^ Don't 
 fool with this," was what he said to me. 
 
 But when he turned to Graeme his whole face 
 lighted up. He took him by the shoulders and 
 gave him a little shake, looking into his eyes and 
 saying over and over in a iow", sweet tone : 
 
 " You'll come, old chap, you'll come, you'll 
 corae. Tell me you'll come," 
 
 And Graeme could say nothing in reply, but 
 only looked at him. Then they silently shook 
 hands and we drove off. But long after we had 
 got over the mountain and into the winding forest 
 road on the way to the lumber camp the voice 
 kept vibrating in my heart, " You'll come, you'll 
 come," and there was a hot pain in my throat.
 
 ii8 Black Rock. 
 
 We said little during the drive to the camp. 
 Graeme was thinking hard, and made no answer 
 when I spoke to him two or three times till we 
 came to the deep shadows of the pine forest, when 
 with a little shiver he said : 
 
 " It is all a tangle — a hopeless tangle." 
 
 " Meaning what?" I asked. 
 
 " This business of religion. "What quaint 
 varieties : Nelson's, Geordie's, Billy Breen's — if 
 he has any ; then Mrs. Mavor's — she is a saint, of 
 course ; and that fellow Craig's. What a trump 
 he is! and without his religion he'd be pretty 
 much like the rest of us. It is too much for me." 
 
 His mystery was not mine. The Black Rock 
 varieties of religion were certainly startling, but 
 there was undoubtedly the streak of reality 
 through them all, and that discovery I felt to be 
 a distinct gain.
 
 Black Rock, 119 
 
 CHAPTER VII, 
 
 THE FIRST BLACK KOCK COMMUNION, 
 
 The gleam of the great fire through the win- 
 dows of the great camp gave a kindly welcome 
 as we drove into the clearing in which the shanties 
 stood. Graeme was greatly touched at his en- 
 thusiastic welcome by the men. At the supper- 
 table he made a little speech of thanks for their 
 faithfulness during his absence, specially com- 
 mending the care and efficiency of Mr. Nelson, 
 who had had charge of the camp. The men 
 cheered wildly, Baptiste's shrill voice leading all. 
 Nelson, being called upon, expressed in a few 
 words his pleasure at seeing the boss back, and 
 thanked the men for their support while he had 
 been in charge. 
 
 The men were for making a night of it ; but 
 fearing the effect upon Graeme, I spoke to Nel- 
 son, who passed the word, and in a short time 
 the camp was quiet. As we sauntered from the 
 grub camp to the office where was our bed, we 
 paused to take in the beauty of the night. The 
 moon rode high over the peaks of the mountains,
 
 120 Black Rock. 
 
 flooding the narrow valley with mellow light. 
 Under her magic the rugged peaks softened their 
 harsh lines and seemed to lean lovingly toward 
 us. The dark pine masses stood silent as in 
 breathless adoration ; the dazzling snow lay like 
 a garment over all the open spaces in soft waving 
 folds, and crowned, every stump with a quaintly 
 shaped nightcap. Above the camps the smoke 
 curled up from the camp-fires, standing like pil- 
 lars of cloud that kept watch while men slept. 
 And high over all the deep blue night sky, with 
 its star jewels, sprang like the roof of a great 
 cathedral from range to range, covering us in its 
 kindly shelter. How homelike and safe seemed 
 the valley with its mountain sides, its sentinel 
 tree, and arching roof of jeweled sky ! Even the 
 night seemed kindly, and friendly the stars ; and 
 the lone cry of the wolf from the deep forest 
 seemed like the voice of a comrade. 
 
 " How beautiful ! too beautiful ! " said Graeme, 
 stretching out his arms. " A night like this takes 
 the heart out of me." 
 
 I stood silent, drinking in at every sense the 
 night with its wealth of loveliness. 
 
 " What is it I want ? " he went on. " Why 
 does the night make my heart ache ? There are 
 things to see and things to hear just beyond me 
 1 cannot get to them."
 
 Black Rock. 121 
 
 The gay, careless look was gone from his face, 
 his dark eyes were wistful with yearning. 
 
 " I often Avonder if life has nothing better for 
 me," he continued with his heart-ache voice. 
 
 I said no word, but put my arm within his. A 
 light appeared in the stable. Glad of a diversion, 
 I said : 
 
 " What is the light ? Let us go and see." 
 
 "Sandy taking a last look at his team, like 
 enough." 
 
 We walked slowly toward the stable, speaking 
 no word. As we neared the door we heard the 
 sound of a voice in the monotone of one reading. 
 I stepped forward and looked through a chink 
 between the logs. Graeme was about to open the 
 door, but J held up my hand and beckoned him 
 to me. In a vacant stall, where was a pile of 
 straw, a number of men were grouped. Sandy, 
 leaning against the tying-post upon which the 
 stable-lantern hung, was reading ; Nelson was 
 kneeling in front of him and gazing into the gloom 
 beyond ; Baptiste lay upon his stomach, his chin 
 in his hands and his upturned eyes fastened upon 
 Sandy's face ; Lachlan Campbell sat with his bands 
 clasped about his knees, and two other men sat 
 near him. Sandy was reading the undying story 
 of the prodigal, Nelson now and then stopping 
 him to make a remark. It was a scene 1 have
 
 122 Black Rock. 
 
 never been able to forget. To-day I pause in my 
 tale, and see it as clearly as when I looked through 
 the chink upon it years ago. The long, low stable 
 with log walls and upright hitching-poles ; the 
 dim outlines of the horses in the gloom of the 
 background, and the little group of rough, almost 
 savage-looking men, with faces wondering and rev- 
 erent, lighted by the misty light of the stable- 
 lantern. 
 
 After the reading Sandy handed the book to 
 Nelson, who put it in his pocket, saying : 
 
 " That's for us, boys, ain't it ? " 
 
 " Aye," said Lachlan. " It is often that has been 
 read in my hearing, but I am afraid it will not be 
 for me whatever," and he swayed himself slightly 
 as he spoke, and his voice was full of pain. 
 
 " The minister said I might come," said old Nel- 
 son earnestly and hopefully. 
 
 "Aye, but you are not Lachlan Campbell, and 
 you have not had his privileges. My father was 
 a godly elder in the Free Church of Scotland, and 
 never a night or morning but we took the 
 Books." 
 
 " Yes, but He said ' any man,' " persisted Kelson, 
 putting his hand on Lachlan's knee. But Lachlan 
 shook his head. 
 
 " Dat young feller," said Baptiste ; " wha's hees 
 nem, heh ? '*
 
 Black Rock. 123 
 
 " He has no name. It is just a patable," ex- 
 plained Sandy. 
 
 " He's got no nem ? He's just a paromble ? 
 Das no young feller ? " asked Baptiste anxiously ; 
 " das mean netting ? " 
 
 Then Nelson took him in hand and explained 
 to him the meaning, while Baptiste listened even 
 more eagerly, ejaculating softly : "Ah, voild !hon ! 
 by gar ! " When Nelson had finished he broke 
 out : " Dat young feller, his name Baptiste, heh ? 
 an' de old Fadder, he's le Ion Dleu ! Bon ! das 
 good story for me. How you go back ? You go 
 to de pries' ? " 
 
 " The book doesn't say priest or any one else," 
 said Nelson. " You go back in yourself, you see? " 
 
 '■'-Non ; das so, sure nuff. Ah ! " — as if a light 
 broke in upon him — " you go in your own self. 
 You make one leetle prayer. You say, ' Le Ion 
 Fadder, oh ! I want come back, 1 so tire, so hon- 
 gree, so sorree ? ' He say, * Come right 'long.' 
 Ah ! das fuss rate. Nelson, you make one leetle 
 prayer for Sandy an' me." 
 
 And Nelson lifted up his face and said : 
 
 " Father, we're all gone far away ; we have 
 spent all, we are poor, we are tired of it all ; we 
 want to feel different, to be different ; we want 
 to come back. Jesus came to save us from our 
 sins, and He said if we came He wouldn't cast us
 
 124 Black Rock. 
 
 out, no matter how bad we were, if we only came 
 to Him. Oh, Jesus Christ " — and his old, iron face 
 began to work and two big tears slowly came 
 from under his eyelids — " we ai'e a poor lot, and 
 I'm the worst of the lot, and we are trying to 
 find the way. Show us how to get back. Amen." 
 
 ^^£on ! " said Baptiste. " Das fetch Him, sure ! " 
 
 Graeme pulled me awa}^, and without a word 
 we went into the office and drew up to the little 
 stove. Graeme was greatly moved. 
 
 " Did you ever see anything like that ? " he asked. 
 " Old Nelson ! the hardest, savagest, toughest old 
 sinner in the camp, on his knees before a lot of 
 men ! " 
 
 " Before God," I could not help saying, for the 
 thing seemed very real to me. The old man 
 evidently felt himself talking to some one. 
 
 " Yes, I suppose you're right," said Graeme 
 doubtfully ; " but there's a lot of stuff I can't 
 swallow." 
 
 " When you take medicine you don't swallow 
 the bottle," I replied, for his trouble was not mine. 
 
 ''If I were sure of the medicine I wouldn't 
 mind the bottle, and yet it acts well enough," he 
 went on. " I don't mind Lachlan. He's a High- 
 land mystic and has visions, and Sandy's almost 
 as bad, and Baptiste is an impulsive little chap. 
 Those don't count much. But old mai> JSTelson is
 
 Black Rock. 125 
 
 a cool-bloocled, level-headed old fellow ; has seen 
 a lot of life, too. And then there's Craig. He 
 has a better head than 1 have and is as hot- 
 blooded, and yet he is living and slaving away in 
 that hole, and really enjoys it. There must be 
 something in it." 
 
 " Oh, look here, Graeme," I burst out impa- 
 tiently, " what's the use of your talking like that ? 
 Of course there's something in it. There's every- 
 thino; in it. The trouble with me is I can't face 
 the music. It calls for a life where a fellow must 
 go in for straight, steady work, self-denial, and 
 that sort of thing ; and I'm too Bohemian for that 
 and too lazy. But that fellow Craig makes one 
 feel horribly uncomfortable." 
 
 Graeme put his head on one side and examined 
 me curiously. 
 
 " I believe j^ou're right about yourself. You 
 always were a luxurious beggar. But that's not 
 where it catches me." 
 
 We sat and smoked and talked of other things 
 for an hour and then turned in. As I was drop- 
 ping off I was roused by Graeme's voice : 
 
 " Are you going to the preparatory service on 
 Friday night ? " 
 
 " Don't know," I replied rather sleepily. 
 
 " I say, do you remember the preparatory serv- 
 ice at home 2 *'
 
 126 Black Rock. 
 
 There was something in his voice that set me 
 wide awake. 
 
 "Yes. Rather terrific, wasn't it? But I 
 always felt better after it," I replied. 
 
 " To me " — he was sitting up in bed now — " to 
 me it was like a call to arms, or rather like a 
 call for a forlorn hope. Kone but volunteers 
 wanted. Do you remember the thrill in the old 
 governor's voice as he dared any but the right 
 stuff to come on ? " 
 
 " We'll go in on Friday night," I said. 
 
 And so we did. Sandy took a load of men 
 with his team and Graeme and I drove in the 
 light sleigh. 
 
 The meeting was in the church and over a 
 hundred men were present. There was some 
 singing of familiar hymns at first, and then Mr. 
 Craig read the same story as we had heard in the 
 stable, that most perfect of all parables, the Prod- 
 igal Son. Baptiste nudged Sandy in delight and 
 whispered something, but Sandy held his face so 
 absolutely expressionless that Graeme was moved 
 to say : 
 
 " Look at Sandy ! Did you ever see such a 
 graven image ? Something has hit him hard." 
 
 The men were held fast by the story. The 
 voice of the reader, low, earnest, and thrilling 
 with, the tender pathos of the tale, carried the
 
 Black Rock. 127 
 
 words to our hearts, while a glance, a gesture, a 
 movement of the body gave us the vision of it all 
 as he was seeing it. 
 
 Then, in simplest of words, he told us what the 
 story meant, holding us the while with eyes, and 
 voice, and gesture. He compelled us to scorn 
 the gay, heartless selfishness of the young fool 
 setting forth so jauntily from the broken home ; 
 he moved our pity and our sympathy for the 
 young profligate, who, broken and deserted, had 
 still pluck enough to determine to work his way 
 back, and who, in utter desperation, at last gave 
 it up ; and then he showed us the home-coming — • 
 the ragged, heart-sick tramp, with hesitating 
 steps, stumbling along the dusty road, and then 
 the rush of the old father, his garments flutter- 
 ing and his voice heard in broken cries. I see 
 and hear it all now whenever the words are 
 read. 
 
 He announced the hymn, " Just as I am," read 
 the first verse, and then went on : 
 
 " There you are, men, every man of you, some- 
 Vv^here on the road. Some of you are too laz}' " — 
 here Graeme nudged me — " and some of you 
 haven't enough yet of the far country to come back. 
 May there be a chance for you when 3'ou want to 
 come ! Men, you all want to go back home, and 
 vrhen you go you'll want to put on your soft
 
 128 Black Rock. 
 
 clothes, and jou won't go till you can go in good 
 style ; but where did the prodigal get his gooa 
 clothes ? " 
 
 Quick came the answer in Baptiste's shrill 
 voice : * 
 
 " From de ole fadder ! " 
 
 No one was surprised, and the minister went 
 on ; 
 
 " Yes ! and that's where we must get the good, 
 clean heart, the good, clean, brave heart — from 
 our Father. Don't wait, but just as you are, 
 come. Sing." 
 
 They sang, not loud, as they would " Stand 
 Up," or even " The Sweet By and By," but in 
 voices subdued, holding down the power in 
 them. 
 
 After the singing Craig stood a moment gaz- 
 ing down at the men and then said quietly : 
 
 " Any man want to come ? You all might 
 come. "We all must come." 
 
 Then, sweeping his arm over the audience and 
 turning half round as if to move off, he cried, in 
 a voice that thrilled to the heart's core : 
 
 " Oh ! come on ! Let's go back ! " 
 
 The effect was overpowering. It seemed to 
 me that the whole company half rose to their 
 feet. Of the prayer that immediately followed 
 I onlj caught the opening sentence, " Father, we
 
 Black Rock. 12% 
 
 are coming back," for my attention was suddenly 
 absorbed by Abe, the stage driver, who was sit 
 ting next me. I could hear him swearing ap 
 proval and admiration, saying to himself : 
 
 " Ain't he a clinker ! I'll be gee-whizzly-gol 
 dusted if he ain't a malleable-iron-dcuble-bacli 
 action self-adjusting corn-cracker." 
 
 And the prayer continued to be punctuated 
 with like admiring and even more sulphurous 
 expletives. It was an incongruous medley. Th« 
 earliest, reverent prayer and the earnest, admir 
 ing profanity rendered chaotic one's ideas of 
 religious propriety. The feelings in both were 
 akin ; the method of expression somewhat widely 
 diverse. 
 
 A.fter prayer Craig's tone changed utterly. In 
 a quiet, matter-of-fact, business-like way he stated 
 his plan of organization, and called for all who 
 wished to join to remain after the benediction. 
 Some fifty men were left, among them Nelson. 
 Sandy, Lachlan Campbell, Eaptiste, Shaw, Nixon. 
 Geordie, and Billy Breen, who tried to get out, 
 but was held fast b\'- Geordie. 
 
 Graeme was passing out, bat 1 signed him to 
 remain, saying tbat I wished " to see the thing 
 out." Abe sat still beside me, swearing dis- 
 gustedly at the fellows " who were going back 
 on the preacher." Craig appeared amazed at tl^<«
 
 130 Black Rock. 
 
 number of men remaining, and seemed to fear 
 that something was wrong. He put before them 
 the terms of discipleship, as the Master put them 
 to the eager scribe, and he did not make them easy. 
 He pictured the kind of work to be done and the 
 kind of men needed for the doing of it. Abe 
 grew uneasy as tlie minister went on to describe 
 the completeness of the surrender, the intensity 
 of the loyalty demanded. 
 
 " That knocks me out, I reckon," he mut- 
 tured in a disappointed tone. " I ain't up to that 
 grade." And as Craig described the heroism 
 called for, the magnificence of the fight, the 
 worth of it, and the outcome of it all, Abe ground 
 out : " I'll be blanked if I wouldn't like to take a 
 hand, but I guess I'm not in it." Craig finished 
 by saying: 
 
 " I want to put this quite fairly. It is not any 
 league of mine ; you're not joining my company ; 
 it is no easy business, and it is for your whole life. 
 What do you say ? Do I put it fairly ? What 
 do you say, Nelson ? " 
 
 Nelson rose slowly and with difiiculty began : 
 
 " I may be all wrong, but you made it easier 
 for me, Mr. Craig. You said He would see me 
 through, or I should never have risked it. Per. 
 haps I am Avrong," and the old man looked 
 troubled.
 
 Black Rock. 131 
 
 Craig sprang up. 
 
 "No! no! Thank God, no! He will see 
 every man through who will trust his life to Him. 
 Every man, no matter how tough he is, no mat- 
 ter how broken." 
 
 Then Kelson straightened himself up and said : 
 
 " Well, sir ! I believe a lot of the men would 
 go in for this if they were dead sure they would 
 get through." 
 
 " Get through ! " said Craig ; " never a fear of it. 
 It is a hard fight, a long fight, a glorious fight," 
 throwing up his head, " but every man who 
 squarely trusts Ilim and takes Him as Lord and 
 ]\J aster comes out victor ! " 
 
 " Bon ! " said Baptiste. " Das rae. You tink 
 He's take me in dat fight, M'sieu Craig, heh ? " 
 
 His eyes were blazing. 
 
 " You mean it ? " asked Craig almost sternly. 
 
 " Yes ! by gar ! " said the little Frenchman 
 eagerly. 
 
 "Hear what He says, then;" and Craig, turn- 
 ing over the leaves of his Testament, read 
 solemnlv the words, " Swear not at all." 
 
 " jSfo7i ! For sure ! Den I stop him," replied 
 Baptiste earnestly, and Craig wrote his name 
 down. 
 
 Poor Abe looked amazed and distressed, rose 
 slowly, and saying, " That jars my whisky jug,"
 
 132 Black Rock. 
 
 passed out. There was a slight movement near 
 the organ, and glancing up I saw Mrs. Mavor 
 put her face hastily in her hands. The men's 
 faces were anxious and troubled, and Kelson said 
 in a voice that broke : " Tell them what vou told 
 me, sir." But Craig was troubled, too, and re- 
 plied, " You tell them, Nelson ! " and Nelson 
 told the men the story of how he began just five 
 weeks ago. The old man's voice steadied as he 
 went on, and he grew eager as he told how he 
 had been helped, and how the world was all dif- 
 ferent and his heart seemed new. He spoke of 
 his Friend as if He were some one that could be 
 seen out at camp, that he knew well and met 
 every day. 
 
 But as he tried to say how deeply he regretted 
 that he had not known all this years before, the 
 old, hard face began to quiver and the steady 
 voice wavered. Then he pulled himself together 
 and said : 
 
 " 1 begin to feel sure He'll pull me through — 
 me I the hardest man in the mountains ! So 
 don't you fear, boys. He's all right." 
 
 Then the men gave in their names one by one. 
 "When it came to Geordie's turn he gave his 
 name : 
 
 " George Crawford, frae the pairisho' Kilsyth, 
 Scotland, an* ye'll juist pit doon the lad's name.
 
 Black Rock. 133 
 
 Maister Craig. He's a wee bit fashed wi' the 
 discoorse, but he has the root o' the mnitter in 
 him, I doot." 
 
 And so Billy Breen's name went down. 
 
 "When the meeting was over thirty-eight names 
 stood upon the communion roll of the Black 
 Rock Presbyterian Church ; and it will ever be 
 one ot the regrets of my life that neither Graeme's 
 name nor my own appeared on that roll. And 
 two days after, when the cup went round on that 
 first communion Sabbath, from Nelson to Sandy 
 and from Sandy to Baptiste, and so on down the 
 line to Billy Breen and Mrs. Mavor, and then to 
 Abe, the driver, whom she had by her own mystic 
 power lifted into hope and faith, I felt all the 
 shame and pain of a traitor ; and I believe in my 
 heart that the fire of that pain and shame burned 
 something of the selfish cowardice out of me, and 
 that it is burning stilL 
 
 The last words of the minister in the short ad- 
 dress after the table had been served were low, 
 and sweet, and tender, but they were words of 
 high courage ; and before he had spoken them 
 all the men were listening with shining eyes, and 
 when they rose to sing the closing hymn they 
 stood straight and stiff like soldiers on parade. 
 
 And I wished more than ever I were one of 
 them.
 
 134 Black Rock. 
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 
 THE BREAKING OF THE LEAGUE. 
 
 There is no doubt in my mind that nature de- 
 signed me for a great painter. A railroad director 
 interfered with that design of nature, as he has 
 with many another of hers, and by the transmis- 
 sion of an order for mountain pieces by the dozen, 
 together^ with a check so large that I feared there 
 was some mistake, he determined me tc be an il- 
 lustrator and designer for railroad and like publi- 
 cations. I do not like these people ordering " by 
 the dozen." Why should they not consider an 
 artist's finer feelings ? Perhaps they cannot un- 
 derstand them ; but they understand my pictures 
 and I understand their checks, and there we are 
 quits. But so it came that I remained in Black 
 Rock long enough to witness the breaking of the 
 league. 
 
 Looking back upon the events of that night from 
 the midst of gentle and decent surroundings, they 
 now seem strangely unreal, but to me then they 
 appeared only natural. 
 
 It was the Good Friday ball that wrecked the
 
 Black Hock. 135 
 
 ieagiie. For the fact that the promoters of the 
 ball determined that it should be a ball rather than 
 a dance was taken by the league men as a conces- 
 sion to the new public opinion in favor of respect- 
 ability created by the league. And when the 
 managers' patronage had been secured (they failed 
 to get Mrs. Mavor's), and it was further an- 
 nounced that though held in the Black Rock Hotel 
 ball-room — indeed, there was no other place — re- 
 freshments suited to the peculiar tastes of league 
 men would be provided, it was felt to be almost a 
 necessity that the league should approve, should 
 indeed welcome, this concession to the public opin- 
 ion in favor of respectabilit}^ created by the league. 
 
 There were extreme men on both sides, of course. 
 Idaho Jack, professional gambler, for instance, 
 frankly considered that the whole town was go- 
 ing to unmentionable depths of propriety. The 
 organization of the league was regarded by hira 
 and by many others as a sad retrograde toward 
 the bondage of the ancient and dying East ; and 
 that he could not get drunk when and where he 
 pleased, " Idaho," as he was called, regarded as 
 a personal grievance. 
 
 But Idaho was never enamored of the social 
 wavs of Black Rock. He was shocked arnl d^- 
 gusted when he discovered that a " gun " W' 
 creed by British law to be an unnecessary ;;
 
 136 Black Rock. 
 
 ment di a card-table. The manner of his dis. 
 covery must have been interesting to behold. 
 
 It is said that Idaho was industriously pursu- 
 ing: his avocation in Slavin's, with his " srun " Ivino: 
 upon the card-table convenient to his hand, when 
 in walked Policeman Jackson, her majesty's sole 
 representative in the Black Rock district. Jack- 
 son, " Stonewall Jackson," or " Stonewall," as he 
 was called for obvious reasons, after watching the 
 game for a few moments gently tapped the pistol 
 and asked what he used this for. 
 
 " I'll show you in two holy minutes if you don't 
 light out," said Idaho, hardly looking up, but very 
 angrily, for the luck was against him. But Jack- 
 son tapped upon the table and said sweetly : 
 
 " You're a stranger here. You ought to get 
 a guidebook and post yourself. Now, the boys 
 know I don't interfere with an innocent little game, 
 but there is a regulation against playing it with 
 guns ; so," he added even more sweetly, but 
 fastening Idaho with a look from his steel-gray 
 eyes, " I'll just take charge of this," picking up 
 the revolver ; " it might go off." 
 
 Idaho's rage, great as it was,was quite swallowed 
 up in his amazed disgust at the state of society 
 that would permit such an outrage upon personal 
 liberty. He was quite unable to play any more 
 that evening, and it took several drinks all round
 
 Black Rock. 137 
 
 to restore hira to articulate speech. The rest of 
 the night was spent in retailing for his instruction 
 stories of the ways of Stonewall Jackson. 
 
 Idaho bought a new " gun," but he Avore it " in 
 his clothes" and used it chiefly in the pastime of 
 shooting out the lights or in picking off the heels 
 from the boys' boots while a stag dance was in 
 progress in Slavin's. But in Stonewall's presence 
 ] daho was a most correct citizen. Stonewall he 
 could understand and appreciate. He was six feet 
 three and had an eye of unpleasant penetration. 
 But this new feeling in the community for 
 respectability he could neither understand nor 
 endure. 
 
 The league became the object of his indignant 
 aversion and the league men of his contempt. 
 He had many sympathizers, and frequent were 
 the assaults upon the newly-born sobriety of Billy 
 Breen and others of the league. But Geordie's 
 Avatchful care and Mrs. Mavor's steady influence, 
 together with the loyal co-operation of the league 
 men, kept Billy safe so far. Nixon, too, was a 
 marked man. It may be that he carried himself 
 with unnecessary jauntiness toward Slavin and 
 Idaho, saluting the fv^rmer with " Awful dry 
 weather ! eh, Slavin ? " and the latter with " Hello, 
 old sport ! how's times ? " causing them to swear 
 deeply .and, as it turned out,to do more than swear
 
 138 Black Rock. 
 
 But on the whole the anti-league men were m. 
 favor of a respectable ball, and most of the league 
 men determined to show their appreciation of the 
 concession of the committee to the principles of 
 the league in the imj^ortant matter of refreshments 
 by attending in force. 
 
 Nixon would not go. However jauntily he 
 might talk, he could not trust himself, as he said, 
 where whisky was flowing, for it got into his nose 
 " like a fish-hook into a salmon." He was from 
 Xova Scotia. For like reason Yernon "Winton, 
 the young Oxford fellow, would not go. "When 
 they chaffed his lips grew a little thinner and the 
 color deepened in his handsome face, but he went 
 on his way. Geordie despised the " hale hy- 
 pothick " as a " daft ploy," and the spending of 
 five dollars upon a ticket he considered a " sinfu' 
 waste o' guid siller ; " and he warned Billy against 
 " coontenancin' ony sic redeeklus nonsense." 
 
 But no one expected Billy to go, although the 
 last two months he had done wonders for his 
 personal appearance and for his position in the 
 social scale as well. They all knew what a fight 
 he was making and esteemed him accordinglv. 
 How well I remember the pleased pride in his 
 face when he told me in the afternoon of the 
 committee's urgent request that he should joir 
 the orchestra with his 'cello I It was not simp.
 
 Black Rock. 139 
 
 that his 'cello was his joy and pride, but be felt 
 it to be a recognition of his return to respecta- 
 bility. 
 
 I have often wondered how things combine at 
 times to a man's destruction. 
 
 Had Mr. Craig not been away at the Landing 
 that week, had Geordie not been on the night 
 shift, had Mrs. Mavor not been so occupied with 
 the care of her sick child, it may be Billy might 
 have been saved his fall. 
 
 The anticipation of the ball stirred Black Rock 
 and the camps with a thrill of expectant delight. 
 Kowadays, when I find myself forced to leave 
 my quiet smoke in my studio after dinner at the 
 call of some social engagement which I have 
 failed to elude, I groan at my hard lot, and I 
 wonder as 1 look back and remember the pleas- 
 urable anticipation with which I viewed the ap- 
 proaching balL But I do not wonder now, any 
 more than I did then, at the eas:er delight of the 
 men Avho for seven days in the week swung iheir 
 picks up in the dark breasts of the mines, or who 
 chop]^ed and sawed among the solitary silences of 
 the great forests. Any break in the long and 
 weary monotony was welcome. What mattered 
 the cost or consequence? To the rudest and 
 least cultured of them the sameness of the lifo 
 must have been hard to bear ; but what it was to
 
 140 Black Rock. 
 
 men who had seen life in its most cultured ana 
 attractive forms I fail to imagine. From the mine, 
 black and foul, to the shack, bare, cheerless, and 
 sometimes hideously repulsive, life sv\rung in heart- 
 grinding monotony till the longing for a " big 
 drink " or some other " big break " became too 
 great to bear. 
 
 It was well on toward evening when Sandy's 
 four-horse team, with a load of men from the 
 woods, came swinging round the curves of the 
 mountain road and down the street. A gay 
 crowd they were with their bright, brown faces 
 and hearty voices ; and in ten minutes the whole 
 street seemed alive with lumbermen — they had a 
 faculty of spreading themselves so. After night 
 fell the miners came down " done up slick," for 
 this was a great occasion and they must be up to 
 it. The manager appeared in evening dress ; but 
 this was voted " too giddy " by the majority. 
 
 As Graeme and I passed up to the Black Rock 
 Hotel, in the large storeroom of which the ball 
 ^^•as to be held, we met old man Il^elson looking 
 very grave. 
 
 " Going, Nelson, aren't you ? " I said. 
 
 "Yes," he answered slowly. "I'll drop in, 
 though I don't like the look of things much." 
 
 " What's the matter, Nelson ? " asked Graeme 
 cheerily. '* There s no funeral on."
 
 Black Rock. 141 
 
 "Perhaps not," replied Nelson, "but I wish 
 Mr. Craig were home." And then he added : 
 " There's Idaho and Slavin together, and you may 
 bet the devil isn't far off." 
 
 But Graeme laughed at his suspicion and we 
 passed on. The orchestra was tuning up. There 
 were two violins, a concertina, and the *cello. 
 Billy Breen was lovingly fingering his instru- 
 ment, now and then indulging himself in a little 
 snatch of some air that came to him out of his 
 happier past. He looked perfectly delighted, 
 and as I paused to listen he gave me a proud 
 glance out of his deep, little, blue eyes, and went 
 on playing softly to himself. Presently Shaw 
 came along. 
 
 " That's good, Billy," he called out. " You've 
 got the trick yet, I see." 
 
 But Billy only nodded and went on playing. 
 
 " Where's Nixon ? " I asked. 
 
 " Gone to bed," said Shaw, " and I am glad of 
 it. He finds that the safest place on pay-day 
 afternoon. The bo3'^s don't bother him there." 
 
 The dancing-room was lined on two sides with 
 beer-barrels and whisky-kegs. At one end the 
 orchestra sat ; at the other a table with refresh- 
 ments, where the "soft drinks" might be had. 
 Those who wanted anything else might pass' 
 through a short passage into the bar just behind.
 
 142 Black Rock. 
 
 This was evidently a superior kind of ball, for 
 tb« men kept on their coats and went through 
 the various figures with faces of unnatural solem- 
 nity. But the strain upon their feelings was 
 quite apparent, and it became a question how long 
 it could be maintained. As the trips through the 
 passageway became more frequent the dancing 
 grew in vigor and hilarity, until by the time 
 supper was announced the stiffness had sufficiently 
 vanished to give no further anxiety to the com- 
 mittee. 
 
 But the committee had other cause for concern, 
 inasmuch as after supper certain of the miners 
 appeared w^ith their coats off and proceeded to 
 " knock the knots out of the floor " in break-down 
 dances of extraordinary energy. These, however, 
 were beguiled into the bar-room and " filled up " 
 for safety, for the committee were determined 
 that the respectability of the ball should be pre- 
 served to the end. Their reputation was at stake, 
 not in Black Bock only, but at the Landing as 
 well, from which most of the ladies had come; 
 and to be ashamed in the presence of the Landing 
 people could not be borne. Their difficulties 
 seemed to be increasing, for at this point some- 
 thing seemed to go wrong with the orchestra. 
 The 'cello appeared to be wandering aimlessly up 
 and down the scale, occasionally picking up the
 
 Black Rock. T43 
 
 tune with animation and then dropping it. As 
 Bilh' saw me approaching he drew himself np 
 with great solemnity, gravely winked at me, and 
 said : 
 
 " Shlipped a cog, Mister Connor ! Mosb hun- 
 fortunate ! Beauchiful hinstrumentjljut shlips a 
 cog. Mosh hnnfortunate ! " 
 
 And he wagged his head a little sagely, playing 
 all the while for dear life, now second and now 
 lead. 
 
 Poor Billy ! I pitied him, but I thought chiefly 
 of the beautiful, eager face that leaned toward 
 iiiiB the night the league was made and of the 
 oright voice that said, " You'll sign with me, 
 Billy ? " and it seemed to me a crael deed to make 
 him lose his grip of life and hope ; for tliis is what 
 the pledge meant to him. 
 
 "While I was trying to gel Billy away to some 
 safe place I heard a great shouting in the direc- 
 tion of the bar, followed by tramping and scuf- 
 fling of feet in the passageway. Suddenly a man 
 burst through, crying : 
 
 " Let me go ! Stand back ! I know what I'm 
 about ! " 
 
 It was Nixon, dressed in his best : black clothes, 
 blue shirt, red tie, looking handsome enough, but 
 half drunk and wildly excited. The Highland 
 fling competition was on at the moment, and
 
 i44 Black Rock. 
 
 Angus Campbell, Lachlan's brother, was repre. 
 senting the lumber camps in the contest. Nixon 
 looked on approvingly for a few moments, then 
 ■with a quick movement he seized the little High- 
 lander, swung him in his powerful arms clean oft 
 the floor, and deposited him gently upon a beer- 
 barrel. Then he stepped into the center of the 
 room, bowed to the judges, and began a sailor's 
 hornpipe. 
 
 The committee were perplexed, but after delib- 
 eration they decided to humor the new compet- 
 itor, especially as they knew that Nixon with 
 whisky in him was unpleasant to cross. 
 
 Lightly and gracefully he w^ent through his 
 steps, the men crowding in from the bar to admire, 
 for Nixon was famed for his hornpipe. But when, 
 after the hornpipe, he proceeded to execute a clog 
 dance, garnished with acrobatic feats, the com- 
 mittee interfered. There were cries of " Put him 
 out ! " and " Let him alone ! Go on, Nixon ! " 
 And Nixon hurled back into the crowd two of 
 the committee v\ho had laid remonstrating hands 
 upon him, and standing in the open center, cried 
 out scornfullv : 
 
 "Put me out! Put me out! Certainly! Help 
 yourselves ! Don't mind me ! " Then grinding 
 his teeth, so that I heard them across the room, 
 he added with savage deliberation: "If any
 
 Black Rock. 145 
 
 man lays a finger on me I'll — I'll eat his liver 
 cold." 
 
 He stood for a few moments glaring round upon 
 the company and then strode toward the bar, fol- 
 lowed bv the crowd wildly yellino;'. The ball 
 was forthwith broken up. I looked around for 
 Billy, but he was nowhere to be seen. Graeme 
 touched my arm. 
 
 " There's going to be something of a time, so 
 just keep your eyes skinned." 
 
 " What are you going to do ? " I asked. 
 
 " Do ? Keep myself beautifully out of trouble," 
 he replied. 
 
 In a few moments the crowds came sur^ins: 
 back headed by Nixon, who was waving a whisky- 
 bottle over his head and yelling as one possessed. 
 
 " Hello ! " exclaimed Graeme softly, " I begin 
 to see. Look there I " 
 
 "What's up?" I asked. 
 
 " You see Idaho and Slavin and their pets," he 
 replied. " They've got poor Nixon in tow. Idaho 
 is rather nasty," he added, " but I think I'll take 
 a hand in this game. Tve seen some of Idaho's 
 work before." 
 
 The scene was one quite strange to me and was 
 
 wild beyond description. A hundred men filled 
 
 the room. Bottles were passed from hand to 
 
 hand and men drank their fill. Behind the re- 
 
 10
 
 146 Black Rock. 
 
 f reshment tables stood the hotelman and his bar. 
 keeper with their coats off and sleeves rolled up 
 to the shoulder, passing out bottles and drawing 
 beer and whisky from two kegs hoisted up for 
 that purpose. Nixon was in his glory. It was 
 his night. Every man was to get drunk at his 
 expense, he proclaimed, flinging down bills upon 
 the table. Near him were some league men he 
 was treating liberally, and never far away were 
 Idaho and Slavin passing bottles, but evidently 
 drinking little. 
 
 I followed Graeme, not feeling too comfort, 
 able, for this sort of thing was new to me, but 
 admiring the cool assurance with which he made 
 his way through the crowd that swayed and 
 yelled and swore and laughed in a most discon- 
 certing manner. 
 
 " Hello ! " shouted Nixon as he caught sight of 
 Graeme. " Here you are ! " passing him a bottle. 
 " You're a knocker, a double-handed front-door 
 knocker. You polished off old whisky-soak here, 
 old demijohn," pointing to Slavin, " and I'll lay 
 five to one we can lick any blankety blank thieves 
 in the crowd," and he held up a roll of bills. 
 
 But Graeme proposed that he should give the 
 hornpipe again, and the floor was cleared at once, 
 for Nixon's hornpipe was very popular, and to- 
 night, of course, was in high favor. In the midst
 
 Black Rock. 147 
 
 of his dance Nixon stopped short, his arras 
 dropped to his side, his face had a look of fear, 
 of horror. 
 
 There, before him, in his riding-cloak and boots, 
 with his whip in his hand as he had come from 
 his ride, stood Mr. Craig. His face was pallid 
 and his dark eyes were blazing with fierce light. 
 As J!^ixon stopped Craig stepped forward to him, 
 and sweeping his eyes round upon the circle, he 
 said in tones intense with scorn : 
 
 " You cowards ! You get a man where he's 
 weak ! Cowards ! You'd damn his soul for his 
 money ! " 
 
 There was a dead silence, and Craig, lifting his 
 hat, said solemnly : 
 
 " May God forgive you this night's work ! " 
 
 Then, turning to Nixon and throwing his arm 
 over his shoulder, he said in a voice broken and 
 husky : 
 
 " Come on, Nixon, "We'll go." 
 
 Idaho made a motion as if to stop him, but 
 Graeme stepped quickly forward and said sharply, 
 " Make way there, can't you ? " and the crowd 
 fell back and we four passed through, Nixon 
 walking as in a dream, with Craig's arm about 
 him. Down the street we went in silence and on 
 to Craig's shack, where we found old man Nel- 
 son, with the fire blazing and strong coffee
 
 148 Black Rock. 
 
 steaming on the stove. It was he that had told 
 Craig, on his arrival from the Landing, of 
 JS^ixon's fall. 
 
 There was nothing of reproach, but only 
 gentlest pity, in tone and touch, as Craig placed ' 
 the half-drunk, dazed man in his easy-chair, took 
 off his boots, brought him his own slippers, and 
 gave him coffee. Then, as his stupor began to 
 overcome him, Craig put him in his own bed 
 and came forth with a face written over with 
 grief. 
 
 " Don't mind, old chap," said Graeme kindly. 
 
 But Craig looked at him without a word, and, 
 throwing himself into a chair, put his face in his 
 hands. As we sat there in silence the door was 
 suddenly pushed open and in walked Abe Baker 
 with the words, " Where is Mxon ? " and we told 
 hiom where he was. "We were still talking when 
 again a tap came to the door, and Shaw came in 
 looking much disturbed. 
 
 " Did you hear about ]^ixon ? " he asked. 
 
 "We told him what we knew. 
 
 "But did you hear how they got him?" he 
 asked excitedly. 
 
 As he told us the tale the men stood listening, 
 with faces growing hard. 
 
 It appeared that after the making of the league 
 the Black Eock Hotel man had bet Idaho one
 
 Black Rock. 149 
 
 hundred to fifty that iN'ixon could not be got to 
 tli'ink before Easter. All Idaho's schemes had 
 failed, and now he had only three days in which 
 to win his money, and the ball was his last chance. 
 Here again he was balked, for Nixon, resisting 
 all entreaties, barred his shack door and went to 
 bed before nightfall, according to his invariable 
 custom on pay-days. At midnight some of Idaho's 
 men came battering at the door for admission, 
 "which Nixon reluctantly granted. For half an 
 hour they used every art of persuasion to induce 
 him to go down to the ball, the glorious success 
 of which was glowingly depicted ; but Nixon 
 remained immovable, and they took their depar- 
 ture, baffled and cursing. In two hours they re- 
 turned drunk enough to be dangerous, kicked at 
 the door in vain, finally gained entrance through 
 the window, hauled Nixon out of bed, and hold- 
 ing a glass of whisky to his lips bade him drink. 
 But he knocked the glass away, spilling the liquor 
 over himself and the bed. 
 
 It was drink or fight, and Nixon was readv to 
 fight ; but after parley they had a drink all round 
 and fell to persuasion again. The night was 
 cold, and poor Nixon sat shivering on the edge 
 of his bed. If he would take one drink they 
 would leave him alone. He need not show him- 
 self so stiff. The whisky fumes filled his nostrils.
 
 150 Black Rock. 
 
 If one drink would get them off, surely that wag 
 better than fighting and killing some one or get- 
 ting killed. He hesitated, yielded, drank his 
 glass. They sat about him amiably drinking and 
 lauding him as a tine fellow, after all. One more 
 glass before they left. Then Nixon rose, dressed 
 himself, drank all that was left of the bottle, put 
 his money in his pocket, and came down to the 
 dance, wild with his old-time madness, reckless 
 of faith and pledge, forgetful of home, wife, 
 babies, his whole being absorbed in one great 
 passion — to drink and drink and drink till he 
 could drink no more. 
 
 Before Shaw had finished his tale Craig's eyes 
 were streaming with tears, and groans of rage 
 and pity broke alternately from him. Abe re- 
 mained speechless for a time, not trusting him- 
 self ; but as he heard Craig groan, " Oh, the 
 beasts ! the fiends ! " he seemed encouraged to 
 let himself loose, and he began swearing with 
 the coolest and most blood-curdling deliberation. 
 Craig listened with evident approval, apparently 
 finding complete satisfaction in Abe's perform- 
 ance, when suddenly he seemed to waken up, 
 caught Abe by the arm, and said in a horror- 
 stricken voice : 
 
 " Stop ! stop I God forgive us 1 We must not 
 swear like this."
 
 Black Rock. 151 
 
 Abe stopped at once, and in a surprised and 
 slightly grieved voice said : 
 
 "Why, what's the matter with that? Ain't 
 that what you wanted ? " 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! God forgive me ! I am afraid it 
 was," he answered hurriedly ; " but I must not." 
 
 " Oh, don't you worry," went on Abe cheer- 
 fully. " I'll look after that part ; and, anyway, 
 ain't they the blankest blankety blank " go- 
 ing off again into a roll of curses, till Craig, in 
 an agony of entreaty, succeeded in arresting the 
 flow of profanity possible to no one but a moun- 
 tain stage driver. Abe paused, looking hurt, and 
 asked if they did not deserve everything he was 
 calling down upon them. 
 
 " Yes, yes," urged Craig ; " but that is not our 
 business." 
 
 " W ell, so I reckoned," replied Abe, recogniz- 
 ing the limitations of the cloth. " You ain't used 
 to it, and you can't be expected to do it ; but it 
 just makes me feel good — let out o' school like — 
 
 to properly do 'em up, the blank, blank " and 
 
 off he went again. It was only under the pres- 
 sure of Mr. Craig's prayers and commands that 
 he finally agreed "to hold in, though it was 
 tough," 
 
 « What's to be done ? " asked Shaw. 
 
 ** Kothing," answered Craig bitterly.
 
 152 Black Rock. 
 
 He was exhausted with his long ride from the 
 Landing and broken with bitter disappointment 
 over the ruin of all that he had labored so long 
 to accomplish. 
 
 " Nonsense," said Graeme. " There's a good 
 deal to do." 
 
 It was agreed that Craig should remain with 
 Nixon while the others of us should gather up 
 what fragments we could find of the broken 
 league. We had just opened the door, when we 
 met a man striding up at a great pace. It was 
 Geordie Crawford. 
 
 " Hae ye seen the lad?" was his salutation. 
 
 No one replied. So I told Geordie of my last 
 sight of Billy in the orchestra. 
 
 " An' did ye no' gang aifter him?" he asked 
 in indignant surprise, adding with some contempt : 
 " Mon ! but ye're a feckless buddie." 
 
 " Billy gone too ! " said Shaw. " They might 
 have let Billy alone." 
 
 Poor Craig stood in a dumb agony. Billy's 
 fall seemed more than he could bear. We went 
 out, leaving him heart-broken amid the ruins of 
 his league.
 
 Black Rock. 153 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE league's KEVENGE. 
 
 As we stood outside of Craig's shack in the 
 dim starlio-ht we could not hide from ourselves 
 that we were beaten. It was not so much grief 
 as a blind fury that filled my heart, and looking 
 at the faces of the men about me I read the same 
 feeling there. But what could we do ? The yells 
 of carousing miners down at Slavin's told us that 
 nothing couki be done with them that night. To 
 be so utterly beaten, and unfairly, and with no 
 chance of revenge, was maddening. 
 
 " I'd like to get back at 'em," said Abe, care- 
 fully repressing himself. 
 
 "I've got it, men," said Graeme suddenly. 
 " This town does not require all the whisky there 
 is in it." And he unfolded his plan. It was to 
 gain possession of Slavin's saloon and the bar of 
 the Black Rock Hotel, and clear out all the liquor 
 to be found in both these places. I did not much 
 like the idea ; and Geordie said : 
 
 "I'm ga'en aifter the lad. I'll hae naethin'
 
 154 Black Rock. 
 
 tae dae wi' yon. It's no' that easy, an' it's a sin- 
 fu' waste." 
 
 But Abe was wild to try it and Shaw was quite 
 willing, while old Nelson sternly approved. 
 
 " Nelson, you and Shaw get a couple of our 
 men and attend to the saloon. Slavin and the 
 whole gang are up at the Black Rock, so you 
 won't have much trouble ; but come to us as soon 
 as you can." 
 
 And so we went our ways. 
 
 Then followed a scene the like of which I can 
 never hope to see again, and it was worth a man's 
 seeing. But there were times that night when I 
 wished I had not agreed to follow Graeme in 
 his plot. 
 
 As we went up to the hotel I asked Graeme : 
 
 " What about the law of this ? " 
 
 " Law ! " he replied indignantly. " They 
 haven't troubled much about law in the whisky 
 business here. They get a keg of high wine and 
 some drugs and begin operations. No ! " he went 
 on ; " if we can get the crowd out and ourselves 
 in we'll make them break the law in getting us 
 out. The law won't trouble us over smuggled 
 whisky. It will be a great lark, and they won't 
 crow too loud over the league." 
 
 I did not like the undertaking at first, but as I 
 thought of the whole wretched illegal business
 
 Black Rock. 155 
 
 flourishing upon the weakness of the men in the 
 mines and camps, whom I had learned to regard 
 as brothers, and especially as I thought of the 
 cowards that did for Kixon, I let my scruples go 
 and determined, with Abe, " to get back at 'em." 
 
 We had no difficulty getting them out. Abe 
 began to yell. Some men rushed out to learn the 
 cause. He seized the foremost man, making a 
 hideous uproar all the while, and in three minutes 
 had every man out of the hotel and a lively row 
 going on. 
 
 In two minutes more Graeme and I had the 
 door to the ball-room locked and barricaded with 
 empty casks. We then closed the door of the 
 bar-room leading to the outside. The bar-room 
 was a strongly built log shack, with a heavy door 
 secured, after the manner of the early cabins, with 
 two strong oak bars, so that we felt safe from 
 attack from that quarter. 
 
 The ball-room we could not hold long, for the 
 door was slight and entrance was possible through 
 the windows. But as only a few casks of liquor 
 were left there, our main work would be in the 
 bar, so that the fight would be to hold the pas- 
 sageway. This we barricaded with casks and 
 tables. But by this time the crowd had begun to 
 realize what had happened and were wildly yell- 
 ing at door and windows. With an ax which
 
 156 Black Rock. 
 
 Graeme had brought with him the casks were 
 soon stove in and left to empty themselves. 
 
 As I was about to empty the last cask Graeme 
 stopped me, saying : " Let that stand here. It 
 ■will help us." And so it did. " Xow skip for 
 the barricade," yelled Graeme as a man came 
 crashing through the window. Before he could 
 regain his feet, however, Graeme had seized him 
 and flung him out upon the heads of the crowd 
 outside. But through the other windows men 
 were coming in, and Graeme rushed for the bar- 
 ricade, followed by two of the enemy, the fore- 
 most of whom I received at the top and hurled 
 back upon the others. 
 
 " Now, be quick ! " said Graeme. " I'll hold 
 this. Don't break any bottles on the floor — throw 
 them out there," pointing to a little window high 
 up in the wall. 
 
 I made all haste. The casks did not take much 
 time, and soon the whisky and beer were flowing 
 over the floor. It made me think of Geordie's 
 regret over the " sinfu' waste." The bottles took 
 longer, and glancing up now and then I saw that 
 Graeme was being hard pressed. Men would 
 leap, two and three at a time, upon the barricade, 
 and Graeme's arms would shoot out, and over 
 they would topple upon the heads of those nearest. 
 It was a great sight to see him standing alone
 
 Black Rock. 157 
 
 with a smile on his face and the light of battle in 
 his eye, coolly meeting bis assailants with those 
 terrific, lightning-like blows. In fifteen minutes 
 my work was clone. 
 
 " What next ? " I asked. " How d( > we get out 2 " 
 
 " How is the door ? " he replied. 
 
 I looked through the port-hole and said : 
 
 " A crowd of men waiting." 
 
 " We'll have to make a dash for it, I fancy," he 
 replied cheerfully, though his face was covered 
 with blood and his breath was coming in short 
 gasps. 
 
 " Get down the bars and be ready." 
 
 But even as he spoke a chair hurled from below 
 caught him on the arm, and before he could re- 
 cover a man had cleared the barricade and was 
 upon him like a tiger. It was Idaho Jack. 
 
 " Hold the barricade," Graeme called out as 
 they both went down. 
 
 I sprang to his place, but I had not much hope 
 of holding it long. I had the heavy oak bar of 
 the door in my hands, and swinging it round my 
 head I made the crowd give back for a few 
 moments. 
 
 Meantime Graeme had shaken off his enemy, 
 who was circling aVjout him upon his tiptoes with 
 a long knife in his hand, waiting for a chance to 
 spring.
 
 158 Black Rock. 
 
 " I have been waiting for this for some time, 
 Mr. Graeme," he said, smiling. 
 
 " Yes," replied Graeme, " ever since I spoiled 
 your cut-throat game in 'Frisco. How is the 
 little one ? " he added sarcastically. 
 
 Idaho's face lost its smile and became distorted 
 with fury as he replied, spitting out his words : 
 
 " She — is — where jou will be before I am done 
 with 3'ou." 
 
 " Ah I you murdered her too ! You'U hang 
 some beautiful day, Idaho," said Graeme as Idaho 
 sprang upon him. 
 
 Graeme dodged his blow and caught his fore- 
 arm with his left hand and held up high the mur- 
 derous knife. Back and forward they swayed 
 over the floor, slippery with whisky, the knife 
 held high in the air. I wondered why Graeme 
 did not strike, and then I saw his right hand 
 hung limp from the wrist. The men were crowd- 
 ing upon the barricade. I was in despair. 
 Graeme's' strength was going fast. "With a yell 
 of exultant fury Idaho threw himself with all liis 
 weight upon Graeme, who could onl/ clmg to him. 
 They swayed together toward me, but as they fell 
 I brought down my bar upon the upraised hand 
 and sent the knife flying across the room. 
 Idaho's howl of rage and pain was mingled with 
 a shout from below, and there, dashing the cro-.vd
 
 Nearer and nearer his outstretched fingers came to the knife. 
 Page 159. 
 
 —Black Rock.
 
 Black Rock. 159 
 
 to right and left, came old Kelson, followed by 
 Abe, Sandy, Baptiste. Shaw, and others. As they 
 reached the barricade it crashed down and, carry- 
 ing me with it, pinned me fast. 
 
 Looking out between the barrels, I saw what 
 froze my heart with horror. In the fall Graeme 
 had wound his arms about his enemy and held 
 him in a grip so deadly that he could not strike ; 
 but Graeme's strength was failing, and when I 
 looked I saw that Idaho was slowly dragging 
 both across the slippery floor to where the knife 
 lay. Nearer and nearer his outstretched lingers 
 came to the knife. In vain I yelled and strug- 
 gled. My voice was lost in the awful din and the 
 barricade held me fast. Above me, standing on 
 a barrel-head, was Baptiste, yelling like a demon. 
 In vain I called to him. My fingers could just reach 
 his foot, and he heeded not at all my touch. 
 Slowly Idaho was dragging his almost uncon. 
 scious victim toward the knife. His fingers were 
 touching the blade point, when, under a sudden 
 inspiration, I pulled out my penknife, opened it 
 with my teeth, and drove the blade into Baptiste's 
 foot. With a blood-curdling yell he sprang down 
 and began dancing round in his rage, peering 
 among the barrels. 
 
 " Look ! look ! " I was calling in agony and 
 pointing. " For Heaven's sake, look, Baptiste ! "
 
 i6o Black KoCK. 
 
 The fingers had closed upon the knife, the knife 
 was already high in the air, when, with a shriek, 
 Baptiste cleared the room at a bound, and before 
 the knife could fall, the little Frenchman's boot 
 had caught the uplifted wrist and sent the knife 
 flying to the wall. 
 
 Then there was a great rushing sound as of 
 wind through the forest, and the lights went out. 
 When I awoke I found m3^self lying with my 
 head on Graeme's knees and Baptiste sprinkling 
 snow on my face. As I looked up Graeme leaned 
 over me, and, smiling down into my eyes, he said : 
 
 " Good boy ! It was a great fight, and we put 
 it up well ; " and then he whispered : " I owe you 
 my life, my boy." 
 
 His words thrilled my heart through and 
 through, for I loved him as only men can love 
 men ; but I only answered : 
 
 " I could not keep them back." 
 
 "It was well done," he said ; and I felt proud. 
 
 I confess I was thankful to be so well out of it, 
 for Graeme got off with a bone in his wrist broken 
 and I with a couple of ribs cracked ; but had it 
 not been for the open barrel of whisky which, 
 kept them occupied for a time, offering too good 
 a chance to be lost, and for the timely arrival of 
 Nelson, neither of us had ever seen the light again. 
 
 "We found Craig sound asleep upon his couch.
 
 Black Rock. i6r 
 
 His consternation on waking to see us torn, 
 bruised, and bloody was laughable ; but he has- 
 tened to find us warm water and bandages, and we 
 soon felt comfortable. 
 
 Baptiste was radiant with pride and light over 
 the fight and hovered about Graeme and me, 
 giving vent to his feelings in admiring French and 
 English expletives. But Abe was disgusted 
 because of the failure at Slavin's ; for when Nel- 
 son looked in he saw Slavin's French-Canadian 
 wife in charge, with her baby on her lap, and he 
 came back to Shaw and said, " Come away ; we 
 can't touch this ; " and Shaw, after looking in, 
 agreed that nothing could be done. A baby held 
 the fort. 
 
 As Craig listened to the account of the fight he 
 tried hard not to approve, but he could not keep 
 the gleam out of his e3"es; and as I pictured 
 Graeme dashing back the crowd thronging the 
 barricade till he was brought down by the chair, 
 Craig laughed gently and put his hand on 
 Graeme's knee. And as I went on to describe 
 my agony while Idaho's fingers were gradually 
 nearing the knife, his face grew pale and his eyes 
 grew wide with horror. 
 
 " Baptiste, here, did the business," I said, and 
 
 the little Frenchman nodded complacently and 
 
 said : 
 II
 
 1 62 Black Rock. 
 
 " Dat's me for sure." 
 
 " By the way, how is your foot ? " asked 
 Graeme. 
 
 " He's fuss rate. Dat's what you call — one bite 
 of — of — dat leel bees. He's dere, you put your 
 finger dere, he's not dere — what you call him ? " 
 
 " Flea ! " I suggested. 
 
 " Qui ! " cried Baptiste. " Dat's one bite of 
 flea." 
 
 " I was thankful I was under the barrels," I 
 replied, smiling. 
 
 " Oui ! Dat's mak' me ver' mad. I jump an' 
 swear mos' awful bad. Dat's pardon me, M'sieu 
 Craig, heh ? " 
 
 But Craig only smiled at him rather sadly. 
 
 "It was awfully risky," he said to Graeme, 
 " and it was hardly worth it. They'll get more 
 whisky, and anyway the league is gone." 
 
 " Well," said Graeme with a sigh of satisfaction, 
 " it is not quite such a one-sided affair as it was." 
 
 And we could say nothing in reply, for we 
 could hear Nixon snoring in the next room, and 
 no one had heard of Billy, and there were others 
 of the league that we knew were even now down 
 at Slavin's. It was thought best that all should 
 remain in Mr. Craig's shack, not knowing what 
 might happen ; and so we lay where we could 
 and we needed none to sing us to sleep.
 
 Black Rock. 163 
 
 When I awoke, stiff and sore, it was to find 
 breakfast ready and old man Nelson in cliarge. 
 As we were seated Craig came in, and I saw that 
 he was not tlie man of the night before. Ilis 
 courage had come back, his face was quiet, and 
 his eye clear ; he was his own man again. 
 
 " Geordie has been out all night, but has failed 
 to find Billy," he announced quietly. 
 
 We did not talk much. Graeme and I worried 
 with our broken bones, and the others suffered 
 from a general morning depression. But after 
 breakfast, as the men were beginning to move, 
 Craig took down his Bible, and saying, " Wait a 
 few minutes, men ! "' he read slowly, in his beau- 
 tiful clear voice, that psalm for all fighters — 
 
 " God is our refuge and strength," 
 
 and so on to the nobler words — 
 
 •' The Lord of Hosts is with us ; 
 The God of Jacob is our refuge." 
 
 How the mighty words pulled us together, 
 lifted us till we grew ashamed of our ignoble 
 rage and of our ignoble depression ! 
 
 And then Craig prayed in simple, straight-going 
 words. There was acknowledgment of failure, 
 but I knew he was thinking chiefly of himself ; 
 and there was gratitude, and that was for the men 
 about him, and I felt my face burn with shame ;
 
 164 Black Rock, 
 
 and there was petition for help, and we all thought 
 of Nixon, and Billv, and the men wakenins: from 
 their debauch at Slavin's this pure, bright morn, 
 ing. And then he asked that we might be made 
 faithful and worthy of God, whose battle it was. 
 Then we all stood up and shook hands with him 
 in silence, and every man knew a covenant was 
 being made. But none saw his meeting with 
 Xixon. He sent us all away before that. 
 
 ^Nothing was heard of the destruction of the 
 hotel stock in trade. Unpleasant questions 
 would certainly be asked, and the proprietor de- 
 cided to let bad alone. On the point of respect- 
 ability the success of the ball was not conspicu- 
 ous, but the anti-league men were content if not 
 jubilant. 
 
 Billy Breen was found by Geordie late in the 
 afternoon in his own old and deserted shack, 
 breathing heavily, covered up in his filthy, mol- 
 dering bedclothes, with a half-empty bottle of 
 whisky at his side. Geordie's grief and rage 
 were beyond even his Scotch control. He spoke 
 few words, but these were of such concentrated 
 vehemence that no one felt the need of Abe's 
 assistance in vocabulary. 
 
 Poor Billy ! We carried him to Mrs. Mavor's 
 home, put him in a warm bath, rolled him in 
 blankets, and gave him little sips of hot water.
 
 Black Rock. 165 
 
 then of hot milk and coffee, as I had seen a clever 
 doctor in the hospital treat a similar case of nerve 
 and heart depression. Lut the already weakened 
 system could not recover from the awful shock of 
 the exposure following the debauch, and on Sun- 
 day afternoon we saw that his heart was failing 
 fast. All day the miners had been dropping in 
 to inquire after him, for Billy had been a great 
 favorite in other days, and the attention of the 
 town had been admiringly centered upon his fight 
 of these last weeks. It was with no ordinary 
 sorrow that the news of his condition was received. 
 As Mrs. Mavor sang to him his large coarse hands 
 moved in time to the music, but he did not open 
 his eves till he heard Mr, Craio:'s voice in the next 
 room ; then he spoke his name, and Mr. Craig 
 was kneeling beside him in a moment. The words 
 came slowly : 
 
 " Oi tried — to fiirht it hout — but — Oi g-ot beat. 
 Hit 'urts to think 'E's hashamed o' me. Oi'd like 
 t' a-done better — Oi would." 
 
 "Ashamed of you, Billy!" said Craig in a 
 voice that broke. " Not He." 
 
 " An'— 3^e hall — 'elped me so ! " he went on. 
 "01 wish Oi'd a-done better — Oi do," and his 
 eyes sought Geordie and then rested on Mrs. 
 Mavor, who smiled back at him with a world of 
 love in her eyes.
 
 1 66 Black Rock. 
 
 " You hain't ashamed o' me — yore hejes saigh 
 so," he said, looking at her. 
 
 "No, Billy," she said, and I wondered at her 
 steady voice, " not a bit. Why, Billy, I am proud 
 of you." 
 
 He gazed up at her with wonder and ineffable 
 love in his little eyes, then lifted his hand slightly 
 toward her. She knelt quickly and took it in 
 both of hers, strokino: it and kissino; it. 
 
 5 O 
 
 " Oi bought t' a-done better. Oi'm hawful sorry 
 Oi went back on 'Im. Hit was the lemonade. 
 The boys didn't mean no 'arm — but hit started 
 the 'ell hinside." 
 
 Geordie hurled out some bitter words. 
 
 " Don't be 'ard on 'em, Geordie. Thev didn't 
 mean do 'arm," he said, and his eyes kept waiting 
 till Geordie said hurriedly : 
 
 " Na ! na ! lad — I'll juist leave them till the 
 Alraichtv." 
 
 Then Mrs. Mavor sang softly, smoothing his 
 hand, " Just as I am," and Billy dozed quietly for 
 half an hour. 
 
 When he awoke ao;ain his eves turned to Mr. 
 Craig, and they were troubled and anxious. 
 
 " Oi tried 'ard. Oi wanted to win," he strug- 
 gled to say. 
 
 By this time Craig was master of himself, and 
 he answered in a clear, distinct voice :
 
 Black Rock. 167 
 
 " Listen, Billy I You made a great fight and 
 you are going to win yet. And besides, do you 
 remember the sheep that got lost over the moun- 
 tains ? " This parable was Billy's special delight. 
 "He didn't beat it when He got it, did He ? He 
 took it in His arms and carried it home. And so 
 He will you." 
 
 And Billy, keeping his eyes fastened on Mr. 
 Craig, simply said : 
 
 "Will'E?" 
 
 " Sure ! " said Craig. 
 
 " Will 'E ? " he repeated, turning his eyes upon 
 Mrs. Mavor. 
 
 " Why, yes, Billy," she answered cheerily, though 
 the tears were streaming from her eyes. " I would, 
 and He loves you far more." 
 
 He looked at her, smiled, and closed his eyes. 
 I put my hand on his heart ; it was fluttering 
 feebly. Again a troubled look passed over his 
 face. 
 
 " My — poor — hold — mother," he whispered ; 
 " she's — hin — the — wukus." 
 
 " I shall take care of her, Billy," said Mrs. Mavor 
 in a clear voice, and again Billy smiled. 
 
 Then he turned his eyes to Mr. Craig, and from 
 him to Geordie, and at last to Mrs. Mavor, where 
 they rested. She bent over and kissed him twice 
 on the forehead.
 
 1 68 Black Rock. 
 
 " Tell 'er," he said with difficulty, « 'E's took me 
 'ome." 
 
 " Yes, Billy ! " she cried, gazing into his glazing 
 eyes. 
 
 He tried to lift her hand. She kissed him aorain. 
 He drew one deep breath and lay quite still. 
 
 " Thank the blessed Saviour ! " said Mr. Craig: 
 reverently. " He has taken him home." 
 
 But Mrs. Mavor held the dead hand tight and 
 sobbed out passionately : 
 
 " Oh, Billy ! Billy ! You helped me once when 
 I needed help ! I cannot forget ! " 
 
 And Geordie, groaning, " Aye, laddie, laddie," 
 passed out into the fading light of the early 
 evening. 
 
 Next day no one went to work, for to all it 
 seemed a sacred day. They carried him into the 
 little church, and there Mr. Craig spoke of his 
 long, hard fight and of his final victory ; for he 
 died without a fear and with love to the men who, 
 not knowing, had been his death. And there was 
 no bitterness in any heart, for Mr. Craig read the 
 story of the sheep and told how gently He had 
 taken Billy home ; but though no word was 
 spoken, it was there the league was made again. 
 
 They laid him under the pines beside Lewis 
 Mavor, and the miners threw sprigs of ever- 
 green into the open grave. When Slavin, sobbing
 
 Black Rock. 169 
 
 bitterly, brought his sprig, no one stopped him, 
 though all thought it strange. 
 
 As we turned to leave the grave the light from 
 the evening sun came softly through the gap in the 
 mountains, and filling the valley touched the trees 
 and the little mound beneath with glory. And 
 I thought of that other glory, which is brighter 
 than the sun, and was not sorry that poor Billy's 
 weary fight was over ; and I could not help 
 agreeing with Craig that it was there the league 
 had its revenge.
 
 170 Black Rock. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHAT CAME TO SLAVIN. 
 
 Billy Breen's legacy to the Black Rock min- 
 ing camp was a new league, which was more than 
 the old league remade. The league was new in its 
 spirit and in its methods. The impression made 
 upon the camp by Billy Breen's death was very 
 remarkable, and 1 have never been quite able to 
 account for it. The mood of the community at 
 the time was peculiarly susceptible. Billy was 
 one of the oldest of the old-timers. His decline 
 and fall had been a long process, and his struggle 
 for life and manhood was striking enough to 
 arrest the attention and awaken the sympathy of 
 the whole camp. We instinctively side with a 
 man in his struggle for freedom, for we feel that 
 freedom is native to him and to us. The sudden 
 collapse of the struggle stirred the men with a 
 deep pity for the beaten man and a deep contempt 
 for those who had tricked him to his doom. But 
 though the pity and the contempt remained, the 
 gloom was relieved and the sense of defeat re- 
 moved from the men's minds b}'^ the transforming
 
 Black Rock. 171 
 
 glory of Billy's last Lour. Mr. Craig, reading of 
 the tragedy of Billy's death, transfigured defeat 
 into victory, and tliis was generally accepted by 
 the men as tlie true reading, though to them it 
 was full of mystery. But they could all under- 
 stand and appreciate at full value the spirit that 
 breathed throucdi the words of the dving: man : 
 " Don't be 'ard on 'era. They didn't mean no 
 'arm." And this was the new spirit of the league. 
 
 It was this spirit that surprised Slavin into 
 sudden tears at the grave's side. lie had come 
 braced for curses and vengeance, for all knew it 
 was he who had doctored Billy's lemonade, and 
 instead of vengeance the message from the dead 
 that echoed through the voice of the living was 
 one of pity and forgiveness. 
 
 But the days of the league's negative, defensive 
 warfare were over. The fight Avas to the death, 
 and now the war was to be carried into the 
 enem3'^'s country. The league men proposed a 
 thoroughly equipped and well-conducted coffee- 
 room, reading-room, and hall, to parallel the 
 enemy's lines of operation and defeat them with 
 their own weapons upon their ovvm ground. The 
 main outlines of the scheme were clearly defined 
 and were easily seen, but the perfecting of the 
 details called for all Craig's tact and good sense. 
 "When, for instance, "Vernon "Winton, who had
 
 172 Black Rock. 
 
 charge of the entertainment department, came for 
 Craig's opinion as to a minstrel troupe and private 
 theatricals, Craig was prompt with his answer : 
 
 " Anything clean goes." 
 
 " A nigger show ? " asked "Winton. 
 
 " Depends upon the niggers," replied Craig 
 with a gravely comic look, shrewdly adding: 
 " Ask Mrs. Mavor." 
 
 And so the League Minstrel and Dramatic Com- 
 pany became an established fact, and proved, as 
 Craig afterward told me, " a great means of grace 
 to the camp." 
 
 Shaw had charge of the social department, 
 w^hose special care it was to see that the men 
 were made welcome to the cozy, cheerful reading- 
 room, where they might chat, smoke, read, write, 
 or play games, according to fancy. 
 
 But Craig felt that the success or failure of the 
 scheme would largely depend upon the character 
 of the resident manager, who, while caring for 
 reading-room and hall, would control and operate 
 the important department represented by the 
 coffee-room. 
 
 " At this point the whole business may come to 
 grief," he said to Mrs. Mavor, without whose 
 counsel nothing was done. 
 
 " Why come to grief ? " she asked brightly. 
 
 " Because if we don't get the right man that's
 
 Black Rock. i73 
 
 what will happen," he replied in a tone that spoke 
 of anxious worry. 
 
 " But we shall get the right man, never fear." 
 Her serene courage never faltered. " He will 
 come to us." 
 
 Craig turned and gazed at her in frank admi- 
 ration and said : 
 
 " If I only had your courage ! " 
 
 " Courage ! " she answered quickly. " It is not 
 for you to say that." 
 
 And at his answering look the red came into 
 her cheek and the depths in her eyes glowed, and 
 I marveled and wondered, looking at Craig's cool 
 face, whether his blood were running evenly 
 through his veins. But his voice was quiet — a 
 shade too quiet, I thought — as he gravely replied : 
 
 " I would often be a coward but for the shame 
 of it." 
 
 And so the league waited for the man to come 
 who Avas to be resident manager and make the 
 new enterprise a success. And come he did ; but 
 the manner of his coming was so extraordinary 
 that I have believed in the doctrine of a special 
 providence ever since; for as Craig said: "If 
 he had come straight from heaven I could not 
 have been more surprised." 
 
 "While the league was thus waiting its interest 
 centered upon Slavin, chiefly because he repre-
 
 174 Black Rock. 
 
 sented more than any other the forces of the 
 enemy ; and though Billy Breen stood between 
 him and the vengeance of the angry men who 
 would have made short work of him and his 
 saloon, nothing could save him from himself, and 
 after the funeral Slavin went to his bar and drank 
 whisky as he had never drunk before. But the 
 more he drank the fiercer and gloomier he be- 
 came, and when the men drinking with him 
 chaffed him, he swore deeply and with such 
 threats that they left him alone. 
 
 It did not help Slavin, either, to have ISTixon 
 stride in through the crowd drinking at his bar 
 and give him words of warning. 
 
 " It is not you» fault, Slavin," he said in slow, 
 cool voice, " that you and your precious crew 
 didn't send me to my death, too. You've won 
 your bet, but I want to say that next time, 
 though 3'ou are seven to one, or ten times that, 
 when any of you boys offer me a drink I'll take 
 you to mean fight, and I'll not disappoint you, 
 and some one will be killed." 
 
 And so saying he strode out again, leaving a 
 mean-looking crowd of men behind him. Ail 
 who had not been concerned in the business at 
 Nixon's shack expressed approval of his position 
 and hoped he would " see it through." 
 
 But the impression of Nixon's words upon
 
 Black Rock. ' 17."=; 
 
 Slavin Tvas as nothing compared with tliat made 
 by Geordie Crawford. It was not what he said 
 so much as the manner of awful solemnity he car- 
 ried. Geordie was struggling conscientiously to 
 keep his promise to " not be 'ard on the boys," 
 and found considerable relief in remembering 
 that he had agreed " to leave them tae the Al- 
 michty." But the manner of leaving them was 
 so solemnly awful that I could not wonder that 
 Slavin's superstitious Irish nature supplied him 
 with supernatural terrors. 
 
 It Avas the second dav after the funeral that 
 Geordie and I were walking toward Slavin's. 
 There was a great shout of laughter as we drew 
 near. 
 
 Geordie stopped short, and saying, " We'll just 
 gang in a meenute," passed through the crowd 
 and up to the bar. 
 
 " Michael Slavin," began Geordie, and the men 
 stared in dead silence, with their glasses in their 
 hands — " Michael Slavin, I promised the lad IM 
 bear ye nae ill-wull, but juist leave ye tae the Al- 
 michty ; an' I want tae tell ye that I'mkeepin' ma 
 wur-r-d. Lut " — and here he raised his hand and 
 his voice became preternaturally solemn — " his 
 bluid is upon yer ban's. Do ye no' see it ? " 
 
 His voice rose sharply, and as he pointed 
 Slavin instinctively glanced at his hands, and
 
 176 Black Rock. 
 
 Geordie added : " Aye, an' the Lord will require 
 it o' you an' yer hoose." 
 
 They told me that Slavin shivered as if taken 
 with ague after Geordie went out, and though he 
 laughed and swore, he did not stop drinking till 
 he sank into a drunken stupor and had to be car- 
 ried to bed. His little French-Canadian wife 
 could not understand the change that had come 
 over her husband. 
 
 " He's like one bear," she confided to Mrs, 
 Mavor, to whom she was showing her baby of a 
 year old. " He's not kees me one tarn dis day. 
 He's most hawful bad. He's not even look at de 
 baby." 
 
 And this seemed sufficient proof that some- 
 thing was seriously wrong ; for she went on to 
 say: 
 
 " He's tink more for dat leel baby dan for de 
 whole worP ; he's tink more for dat bab}' dan 
 for me," but she shrugged her pretty little 
 shoulders in deprecation of her speech. 
 
 " You nmst pray for him," said Mrs. Mavor, 
 " and all will come right." 
 
 " Ah ! madame ! " she replied earnestly, " every 
 day, every day I pray la sainte Vierge et tons lea 
 saints for him." 
 
 " You must pray to your Father in heaven for 
 him."
 
 Black Rock. 177 
 
 " Ah ! oui / I weel pray," and Mrs. Mavor sent 
 her away bright with smiles and with new hope 
 and courao;e in her heart. 
 
 She had ver}" soon need of all her courage, for 
 at the week's end her baby fell dangerously ill. 
 Slavin's anxiety and fear were not relieved much 
 by the reports the men brought him from time to 
 time of Geordie's ominous forebodings, for Geor- 
 die had no doubt but that the Avenger of Blood 
 was hot upon Slavin's trail ; and as the sickness 
 grew he became confirmed in this conviction. 
 While he could not be said to find satisfaction 
 in Slavin's impending affliction, he could hardly 
 hide his complacency in the promptness of Prov- 
 idence in vindicating his theory of retribution. 
 
 But Geordie's complacency was somew^hat 
 rudely shocked by Mr. Craig's answer to his 
 theory one day. 
 
 " You read your Bible to little profit, it seems to 
 me, Geordie, or perhaps you have never read the 
 Master's teaching about the Tower of Siloam. 
 Better read that and take that warning to your- 
 self." 
 
 Geordie gazed after Mr. Craig as he turaed 
 away and muttered : 
 
 " The Toor o' Siloam, is it ? Aye, I ken fine 
 
 aboot the Toor o' Siloam an' aboot the Toor o' 
 
 Babel as weel ; an' I've read, too, aboot the 
 12
 
 178 Black Rock. 
 
 blaspheeriiious Herod, an' sic like. Mon, but 
 he's a hot-heided laddie an' lacks discreemeena- 
 tion." 
 
 " What about Herod, Geordie ? " I asked. 
 
 " Aboot Herod ? " with a strong tinge of con- 
 tempt in his tone. " Aboot Herod ? Mon, hae 
 ye no' read in the Screepturs aboot Herod an' the 
 wur-r-ms in the wame o' him ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I see," I hastened to answer. 
 
 " Aye, a f ule can see what's flapped in his face," 
 with which bit of proverbial philosophy he sud- 
 denly left me. 
 
 But Geordie thenceforth contented himself, in 
 Mr. Craig's presence at least, with ominous head- 
 shakings, equally aggravating and impossible to 
 answer. 
 
 That same night, however, Geordie showed 
 that with all his theories he had a man's true 
 heart, for he came in haste to Mrs. Mavor to 
 say: 
 
 " Ye'll be needed ower yonder, I'm thinkin'." 
 
 " TThy ? Is the baby worse ? Have you been 
 in?" 
 
 " Na, na," replied Geordie cautiously, " I'll no 
 gang where I'm no wanted. But yon puir thing 
 ye can hear outside weepin' an' moanin'. She's 
 maybe need ye tae," he went on dubiously to me. 
 " Ye're a kind o' doctor, I hear," not committing
 
 Black Rock. i7g 
 
 himself to any opinion as to my professional 
 value. But Slavin would have none of me, having 
 got the doctor sober enough to prescribe. 
 
 The interest of the camp in Slavin was greatly 
 increased by the illness of his baby, which was 
 to him as the apple of his eye. There were a few 
 who, impressed by Geordie's profound convic- 
 tions upon the matter, were inclined to favor the 
 retribution theory and connect the baby's illness 
 with the vengeance of the Almighty. Among 
 these few was Slavin himself, and goaded by his 
 remorseful terrors he sought relief in drink. But 
 this brought him only deeper and fiercer gloom, 
 so that between her suffering child and her sav- 
 agely despairing husband, the poor mother was 
 desperate with terror and grief. 
 
 " Ah ! madame," she sobbed to Mrs. Mavor, 
 " my heart is broke for him. He's heet notting 
 for tree days, but jis dreenk, dreenk, dreenk." 
 
 The next day a man came for me in haste. 
 The baby was dying and the doctor was drunk. 
 I found the little one in a convulsion lying across 
 Mrs. Mavor's knees, the mother kneeling beside 
 it, wringing her hands in ^a dumb agony, and 
 Slavin standing near, silent and suffering. I 
 glanced at the bottle of medicine upon the table 
 and asked Mrs. Mavor the dose, and found the 
 baby had been poisoned. My look of horror told
 
 l8o Black Rock. 
 
 Slavin something was wrong, and striding to me 
 he caught my arm and asked : 
 
 " What is it ? Is the medicine wrong? " 
 
 I tried to put him off, but his grip tightened 
 till his fingers seemed to reach the bone. 
 
 " The dose is certainly too large ; but let me 
 go — I must do something." 
 
 He let me go at once, saying in a voice that 
 made my heart sore for him : " He has killed my 
 baby; he has killed my baby." And then he 
 cursed the doctor with awful curses, and with a 
 look of such murderous fury on his face that I 
 was glad the doctor was too drunk to appear. 
 
 His wife, hearing his curses and understanding 
 the cause, broke out into wailing hard to bear. 
 
 " Ah ! mon ])etit ange 1 It is dat wheesky dat's 
 keel my baby. Ah ! innon cheri,, tnon ainour. Ah ! 
 mon Dieu ! Ah, Michael, how often I say dat 
 wheesky he's not good ting." 
 
 It was more than Slavin could bear, and with 
 awful curses he passed out. Mrs. Mavor laid the 
 baby in its crib, for the convulsion had passed 
 away ; and putting her arms about the wailing 
 little Frenchwoman, comforted and soothed her as 
 a mother might her child. 
 
 " And you must help your husband," I heard 
 her say. " He will need you more than ever. - 
 Think of him."
 
 Black Rock. i8i 
 
 "All ! oui ! I weel," was the quick reply, and 
 from that moment there was no more wailing. 
 
 It seemed no more than a minute till Slavin 
 came in again, sober, quiet, and stead}' ; the pas- 
 sion was all gone from his face, and only the grief 
 remained. 
 
 As we stood leaning over the sleeping child the 
 little thing opened ibs: eyes, saw its father, and 
 smiled. It was too much for him. The big man 
 dropped on his knees with a dry sob. 
 
 " Is there no chance at all, at all ? " he whis- 
 pered, but I could give him no hope. 
 
 He immediately rose, and pulling himself to- 
 gether stood perfectly quiet. 
 
 A new terror seized upon the mother. 
 
 " My baby is not — Avhat you call it ? " going 
 through the form of baptism. " An' he will not 
 come to la sainte Yierge,''^ she said, crossing her- 
 self. 
 
 '• Do not fear for your little one," said Mrs. 
 Mavor, still with her arms about her. " The good 
 Saviour will take your darling into His own arms." 
 
 But the mother would not be comforted by this. 
 And Slavin, too, was uneasy. 
 
 " Where is Father Goulet ? " he asked. 
 
 "Ah! you were not good to the holy j9<sre de 
 las' tam, Michael," she replied s-^dly. " The saints 
 are not please for you."
 
 1 82 Black Rock. 
 
 " "Where is the priest ? " he demanded. 
 
 "I know not for sure. At de Landin', dat's 
 lak." 
 
 " I'll go for him," he said. 
 
 But his wife clung to him, beseeching him not 
 to leave her, and indeed he was loath to leave his 
 little one. 
 
 I found Craig and told him the difBculty. 
 With his usual promptness he was ready with a 
 solution. 
 
 " Kixon has a team. He will go." Then he 
 added : " I wonder if they would not like me to 
 baptize their little one? Father Goulet and I 
 have exchanged offices before now. I remember 
 how he came to one of my people in my absence, 
 when she was dying, read with her, prayed with 
 her, comforted her, and helped her across the 
 river. He is a good soul and has no nonsense 
 about him. Send for me if you think there is 
 need. It will make no difference to the baby, 
 but it will comfort the mother." 
 
 Nixon was willing enough to go, but when he 
 came to the door Mrs. Mavor saw the hard look 
 in his face. He had not forgotten his wrong, for 
 day by day he was still fighting the devil within 
 that Slavin had called to life. But Mrs. Mavor, 
 under cover of gettino: him instructions, drew him 
 into the room. While listening to her his eyes
 
 Black Rock. 183 
 
 
 
 wandered from one to the other of the group till 
 they rested upon the little white face in the crib. 
 She noticed the change in his face. 
 
 "They fear the little one will never see the 
 Saviour if it is not baptized," she said in a low 
 tone. 
 
 He was eager to go. 
 
 " I'll do my best to get the priest," he said, and 
 Avas gone on his sixty miles' race with death. 
 
 The long afternoon wore on, but before it was 
 half ffone I saw Nixon could not win and that the 
 priest would be too late, so I sent for Mr. Craig. 
 From the moment he entered the room he took 
 command of us all. He was so simple, so manly, 
 so tender, the hearts of the parents instinctively 
 turned to him. 
 
 As he was about to proceed with the baptism 
 the mother whispered to Mrs. Mavor, who hesi- 
 tatingly asked Mr. Craig if he would object to using 
 holy water. 
 
 " To me it is the same as any other," he replied 
 gravely. 
 
 " An' will he make the good sign ? " asked the 
 mother timidly. 
 
 And so the child was baptized by the Presby- 
 terian minister with holy water and with the sign 
 of the cross. I don't suppose it was orthodox, 
 and it rendered chaotic some of my religious
 
 184 Black Rock. 
 
 notions, but I thought more of Craig that moment 
 than ever before. He was more man than min- 
 ister, or perhaps he was so good a minister that 
 day because so much a man. As he read about 
 the Saviour and the children and the disciples 
 who tried to get in between them, and as he told 
 us the story in his own simple and beautiful way, 
 and then went on to picture the home of the little 
 children and the same Saviour in the midst of 
 them, 1 felt my heart grow warm, and I could 
 easily understand the cry of the mother : 
 
 " Oh, mon Jesu,jprenez moi aussi — take me wiz 
 mon TTiignonP 
 
 The cry wakened Slavin's heart and he said 
 huskily : 
 
 "Oh! Annette! Annette!" 
 
 " Ah, oui ! an' Michael too ! '• 
 
 Then to Mr. Craig : 
 
 " You tink He's tak me some day ? Eh ? " 
 
 " All who love Him," he replied. 
 
 " An' Michael too % " she asked, her eyes search- 
 ing his face. " An' Michael too \ " 
 
 But Craig only replied : 
 
 " All who love Him," 
 
 " Ah, Michael, you must pray le honJesu. He's 
 garde noire mignonP 
 
 And then she bent over the babe, whispering : 
 
 "Ah, TYion ch^rif mon amour , adieu! adieu
 
 Black Rock. 185 
 
 mon ange ! " till Slavin put his arms about her 
 and took her away, for as slie was whispering her 
 farewells her baby, with a little answering sigh, 
 passed into the house with many rooms. 
 
 " Whisht, Annette darlin' ; don't cry for the 
 baby," said her husband. " Shure it's better off 
 than the rest av us, it is. An' didn't ye hear 
 what the minister said about the beautiful 
 place it is? An' shure he wouldn't lie to us 
 at all." 
 
 But a mother cannot be comforted for her first- 
 born son. 
 
 An hour later Nixon brought Father Goulet. 
 He was a little Frenchman with gentle manners 
 and the face of a saint. Craig welcomed him 
 warmly and told him what he had done. 
 
 " That is good, my brother," he said with 
 gentle courtesy, and turning to the mother: 
 " Your little one is safe." 
 
 Behind Father Goulet came Nixon softly and 
 gazed down upon the little quiet face, beautiful 
 with the magic of death. Slavin came quietly 
 and stood beside him. Nixon turned and offered 
 his hand. But Slavin said, moving sloAvly back : 
 
 " I did ye a wrong, Nixon, an' it's a sorry man 
 I am this day for it." 
 
 " Don't say a word, Slavin," answered NixoTi 
 hurriedly. ^' I know how you feel. I've got c.
 
 i86 Black Rock. 
 
 baby, too. I want to see it again. That's why 
 the break hurt me so." 
 
 "As God's above," replied Slavin earnestly, 
 " I'll hinder ye no more." 
 
 They shook hands and we passed out. 
 
 We laid the baby under the pines, not far from 
 Billy Breen, and the sweet spring wind blew 
 through the gap and came softly down the valley, 
 whispering to the pines and the grass and the 
 hiding flowers of the new life coming to the 
 world. And the mother must have heard the 
 whisper in her heart, for as the priest was saying 
 the words of the service, she stood with Mrs. 
 Mavor's arms about her, and her eyes were looking 
 far away beyond the purple mountain tops, see- 
 ing what made her smile. And Slavin, too, 
 looked different. His very features seemed finer. 
 The coarseness was gone out of his face. What 
 had come to him I could not tell. 
 
 But when the doctor came into Slavin's house 
 that night it was the old Slavin I saw, but with a 
 look of such deadly fury on his face that I tried 
 to get the doctor out at once. But he was half 
 drunk and after his manner was hideously humor- 
 ous. 
 
 " How do, ladies ! How do, gentlemen ! " was 
 his loud-voiced salutation. " Quite a profession aj 
 gathering, clergy predominating. Lion and
 
 Black Rock. 187 
 
 lamb, too. Ha! ha! Which is the lamb, eh? 
 Ila! ha! ha! Very good! Awfully sorry to 
 hear of your loss, Mrs. Slavin. Did our best, 
 you know. Can't help this sort of thing." 
 
 Before any one could move Craig was at his 
 side, and saying in a clear, firm voice, " One mo- 
 ment, doctor," caught him by the arm and had 
 him out of the room before he knew it. Slavin, 
 who had been crouching in his chair with hands 
 twitching and eyes glaring, rose and followed, 
 still crouching as he walked. I hurried after 
 him, calling him back. Turning at my voice, the 
 doctor saw Slavin approaching. There was 
 something so terrifying in his swift, noiseless, 
 crouching motion that the doctor, crying out in 
 fear, " Keep him off ! " fairly turned and fled. 
 He was too late. Like a tiger Slavin leaped upon 
 him, and without waiting to strike had him by 
 the throat with both hands, and bearing him to 
 the ground, worried him there as a dog might a 
 cat. 
 
 Immediately Craig and I were upon him, but 
 though we lifted him clear off the ground we 
 could not loosen that two-handed strangling grip. 
 As we were struggling there a light hand touched 
 my shoulder. It was Father Goulet. 
 
 " Please let him go and stand away from us," he 
 said, waving us back.
 
 1 88 Black Rock. 
 
 We obeyed. He leaned over Slavin and spoke 
 a few words to him. Slavin started as if struck a 
 heavy blow, looked up at the priest with fear in 
 his face, but still keeping his grip. 
 
 " Let him go," said the priest. Slavin hesitated. 
 " Let him go ! quick ! " said the priest again, and 
 Slavin with a snarl let go his hold and stood sul- 
 lenly facing the priest. 
 
 Father Goulet regarded him steadily for some 
 seconds and then asked : 
 
 " What would you do ? '' His voice was gentle 
 enough, even sweet, but there was something in 
 it that chilled my marrow. " What would you 
 do ? " he repeated. 
 
 " He murdered my child," growled Slavin. 
 
 « Ah ! How ? " 
 
 " He was drunk and poisoned him." 
 
 " Ah ! Who gave him drink ? Who made him 
 a drunkard two years ago ? Who has wrecked 
 his life?" 
 
 There was no answer, and the even-toned voice 
 went relentlessly on : 
 
 " Who is the murderer of your child now ? " 
 
 Slavin groaned and shuddered. 
 
 " Go ! " and the voice grew stern. " Repent of 
 your sin and add not another." 
 
 Slavin turned his eyes upon the motionless 
 figure on the ground and then upon the priest.
 
 Black Rock. 189 
 
 Father Goulet took one step toward him and, 
 stretching out his hand and pointing with his 
 finger, said : 
 
 " Go ! " 
 
 And Slavin slowly backed away and went into 
 his house. It was an extraordinary scene, and it 
 is often with me now ; the dark figure on the 
 ground, the slight, erect form of the priest wdth 
 outstretched arm and finger, and Slavin backing 
 away, fear and fury struggling in his face. 
 
 It was a near thing for the doctor, however, 
 and two minutes more of that grip would have 
 done for him. As it was, we had the greatest 
 difficulty in reviving him. 
 
 "What the priest did with Slavin after getting 
 him inside I know not ; that has always been a 
 mystery to rae. But w^hen we were passing the 
 saloon that night after taking Mrs. Mavor home 
 we saw a light and heard strange sounds within. 
 Entering, we found another whisky raid in prog- 
 ress, Slavin himself being the raider. "We stood 
 some moments watching him knocking in the 
 heads of casks and emptying bottles. I thought 
 he had gone mad and approached him cautiously. 
 
 " Hello, Slavin ! " I called out. " What does 
 this mean ? " 
 
 lie paused in his strange work, and I saw that 
 his face, though resolute, was quiet enough.
 
 190 Black Rock. 
 
 " It means I'm clone wid the business, I am," 
 he said in a determined voice. "I'll help no 
 more to kill anny man or," in a lower tone, " anny 
 man's baby." 
 
 The priest's words had struck home. 
 
 " Thank God, Slavin ! " said Craig, offering 
 his hand. " You are much too good a man for the 
 business. " 
 
 " Good or bad, I'm done wid it," he replied, 
 going on with his work. 
 
 " You are throwing away good money, Slavin," 
 I said as the head of a cask crashed in. 
 
 " It's meself that knows it, for the price of 
 whisky has riz in town this week," he answered, 
 giving me a look out of the corner of his eye. 
 " Bedad ! it was a rare clever job," referring 
 to our Black Rock Hotel affair. 
 
 " But won't you be sorry for this ? " asked 
 Craig. 
 
 " Beloike I will ; an' that's why I'm doin' it be- 
 fore I'm sorry for it," he replied, with a delightful 
 bull. 
 
 " Look here, Slavin," said Craig earnestly, " if 
 I can be of use to you in any way, count on me." 
 
 '* It's good to me the both of yezhave been, an' 
 I'll not forget it toyez," he replied with like ear- 
 nestness. 
 
 As we told Mrs. Mavor that night— -for Craig
 
 Black Rock. 191 
 
 thought it too good to keep — her eyes seemed to 
 grow deeper and the light in them to glow more 
 intense as she listened to Craig pouring out his 
 tale. Then she gave him her hand and said : 
 
 " You have your man at last." 
 
 « What man ? " 
 
 " The man you have been waiting for." 
 
 "Slavin?" 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " I never thought of it." 
 
 " No more did he, nor any of us." Then, after 
 a pause, she added gently : " He has been sent 
 to us." 
 
 " Do you know, I believe you are right ? " Craig 
 said slowly, and then added : " But you always 
 are." 
 
 " I fear not," she answered ; but I thought she 
 liked to hear his words. 
 
 The whole town was astounded next morning 
 when Slavin went to work in the mines, and its 
 astonishment only deepened as the days went on 
 and he stuck to his work. Before three weeks 
 had gone the league had bought and remodeled 
 the saloon and had secured Slavin as resident 
 manager. 
 
 The evening of the reopening of Slavin's saloon, 
 as it was still called, was long remembered in 
 Black Kock. It was the occasion of the first
 
 192 Black Rock. 
 
 appearance of the League Minstrel and Dramatic 
 Troupe in what was described as a " hair-lifting 
 tragedy with appropriate musical selections." 
 
 Then there was a grand supper and speeches 
 and great enthusiasm, which reached its climax 
 when Nixon rose to propose the toast of the eve- 
 ning — " Our saloon." His speech was simply a 
 quiet, manly account of his long struggle with the 
 deadly enemy. When he came to speak of his 
 recent defeat he said : 
 
 " And while I am blaming no one but myself, I 
 am glad to-night that this saloon is on our side, 
 for my own sake and for the sake of those who 
 have been waiting long to see me. But before 
 I sit down I want to say that while I live I shall 
 not forget that I owe my life to the man that 
 took me that night to his own shack and put me 
 in his own bed, and met me the next morning 
 with an open hand ; for I tell you I had sworn to 
 God that that morning would be my last." 
 
 Geordie's speech was characteristic. After a 
 brief reference to the " mysteerious ways o' Prov- 
 idence," which he acknowledged he might some- 
 times fail to understand, he went on to express 
 his unqualified approval of the new saloon. 
 
 " It's a cozy place, an' there's nae sulphur aboot. 
 Besides a' that," he went on enthusiastically^ 
 " it'll be a terrible savin'. I' ve juist been coontin'.**
 
 Black Rock. 193 
 
 " Yon bet 1 " ejaculated a voice with great eni' 
 phasis. 
 
 " I've juist been coontin','' went on Geordie, ig- 
 noring the remark and the laugh which followed, 
 " an' it's an awfu'-like money ye pit ower wi' the 
 whusky. Ye can see, ye canna dae wi' ane bit 
 glass ; ye maun hae twa or three at the verra least, 
 for it's no' verra forrit ye get wi' ane glass. But 
 wi' yon coffee ye juist get a saxpence worth an' ve 
 want nae mair." 
 
 There was another shout of laughter, which 
 puzzled Geordie much. 
 
 " I dinna see the jowk, but I've slippit ower in 
 whusky mair nor a hunner dollars." 
 
 Then he paused, looking hard before him and 
 twisting his face into extraordinary shapes till 
 the men looked at him in wonder. 
 
 " I'm rale glad o' this saloon, but it's ower late 
 for the lad that canna be helpit the noo. He'll 
 not be needin' help o' oors, I doot, but there are 
 ithers " — and he stopped abruptly and sat down, 
 with no a})plause following. 
 
 But Avhen Slavin, our saloon-keeper, rose to 
 reply, the men jumped up on the seats and yelled 
 till they could j'^ell no more. Slavin stood, evi. 
 dently in trouble with himself, and finally broke 
 out : 
 
 " It's spacheless 1 am entirely. "What's come 
 »3 f
 
 194 Black Rock. 
 
 to me I know not, nor how it's come. But I'll do 
 my best for yez." 
 
 And then the yelling broke out again. 
 
 I did not yell myself. I was too busy watch- 
 ing the varying lights in Mrs. Mayor's eyes as she 
 looked from Craig to the yelling men on the 
 benches and tables and then to Slavin, and I found 
 myself wondering if she knew what it was that 
 came to Slavin.
 
 Black Rock. 195 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE TWO CALLS, 
 
 With the call to Mr. Craig I fancy I had some- 
 thing to do myself. The call came from a young 
 congregation in an Eastern city, and was based 
 partly upon his college record and more upon the 
 advice of those among the authorities who knew 
 his work in the mountains. But I flatter myself, 
 that my letters to friends who were of importance 
 in that congregation were not without influence, 
 for I was of the mind that the man who could 
 handle Black Rock miners as he could was ready 
 for something larger than a mountain mission. 
 That he would refuse I had not imagined, though 
 I ought to have known him better. lie was but 
 little troubled over it. He went with the call and 
 the letters urging his acceptance to Mrs. Mavor. 
 1 was putting the last touches to some of my 
 work in the room at the back of Mrs. Mavor's 
 house when he came in. She read the letters and 
 the call quietly and waited for him to speak. 
 
 ** Well 2 " he said. " Should I go ? "
 
 196 Black Rock. 
 
 She started and grew a little pale. His qu.es. 
 tion suggested a possibility that had not occurred 
 to her. That he could leave his work in Black 
 Kock she had hitherto never imagined ; but there 
 was other work, and he was fit for good work 
 anywhere. Why should he not go ? I saw the 
 fear in her face, but I saw more than fear in her 
 eyes as for a moment or two she let them rest 
 upon Craig's face. I read her story, and I was 
 not sorry for either of them. But she was too 
 much of a woman to show her heart easily to the 
 man she loved, and her voice was even and calm 
 as she answered his question. 
 
 " Is this a very large congregation ? " 
 
 " One of the finest in all the East," I put in for 
 him. " It will be a great thing for Craig." 
 
 Craig was studying her curiously. I think she 
 noticed his eyes upon her, for she went on even 
 more quietly : 
 
 " It will be a great chance for work, and you 
 are able for a larger sphere, you know, than poor 
 Black Rock affords." 
 
 « Who will take Black Rock ? " he asked. 
 
 " Let some other fellow have a try at it," I 
 said. " Why should you waste your talents 
 here ? " 
 
 " Waste ? " cried Mrs. Mavor indignantly. 
 
 " Well, * bury/ if you like it better," I replied
 
 Black Rock. 197 
 
 " Tt would not take much of a grave for that 
 funeral," said Craig, smiling. 
 
 " Oh," said Mrs. Mavor, " you will be a great 
 man, I know, and perhaps vou ought to go now." 
 
 But he answered coolly : 
 
 "There are fifty men wanting that Eastern 
 charge and there is only one wanting Black Rock, 
 and I don't think Black Rock is anxious for a 
 change, so 1 have determined to stay where I am 
 yet awhile." 
 
 Even my deep disgust and disappointment did 
 not prevent me from seeing the sudden leap of joy 
 in Mrs. Mavor's eyes, but she, with a great effort, 
 answered quietly : 
 
 " Black Rock will be very glad, and some of us 
 very, very glad." 
 
 Nothing could change his mind. There was no 
 one he knew who could take his place just now, 
 and why should he quit his work ? It annoyed me 
 considerably to feel he was right. Why is it that 
 the right things are so frequently unpleasant ? 
 
 And if I had had any doubt about the matter, 
 next Sabbath evening would have removed it. 
 For the men came about him after the service and 
 let him feel in their way how much they approved 
 his decision, though the self-sacrifice involved 
 did not appeal to them. They were too truly 
 Western to imagine that any inducements the
 
 198 Black Rock. 
 
 East could offer could compensate for his loss of 
 the "West. It was only fitting that the "West 
 should have the best, and so the miners tooiv 
 almost as a matter of course, and certainly as 
 their right, that the best man they knew should 
 stay with them. But there were those who knew 
 how much of what most men consider worth 
 while he had given up, and they loved him no 
 less for it. 
 
 Mrs. Mavor's call was not so easily disposed 
 of. It camo close upon the other, and stirred 
 Black Rock as nothing else had ever stirred it 
 before. 
 
 I found her one afternoon gazing vacantly at 
 some legal documents spread out before her on 
 the table, and evidently overcome by their con- 
 tents. There was first a lawyer's letter inform, 
 ing her that by the death of her husband's father 
 she had come into the whole of the Mavor estates 
 and all the wealth pertaining thereto. The letter 
 asked for instructions, and urged an immediate 
 return with a view to a personal superintendence 
 of the estates. A letter, too, from a distant 
 cousin of her husband ursred her immediate return 
 for many reasons, but chiefly on account of the 
 old mother who had been left alone, with none 
 nearer of kin than himself to care for her and 
 cheer her old age.
 
 Black Rock. 19') 
 
 With these two came another letter from her 
 mother-in-law herself. The crabbed, trembling 
 characters were even more eloquent than the 
 words with which the letter closed. 
 
 " I have lost my boy, and now my husband is 
 gone, and I am a lonely woman. I have many 
 servants and some friends, but none nearer to me, 
 none so near and dear as my dead son's wife. 
 My days are not to be many. Come to me, my 
 daughter. I want you and Lewis' child." 
 
 "■ Must I go ? " she asked with white lips. 
 
 " Do you know her well ? " I asked. 
 
 " I only saw her once or twice," she answered, 
 " but she has been very good to me." 
 
 " She can hardly need you. She has friends. 
 And surely you are needed here." 
 
 She looked at me eagerly. 
 
 " Do you think so 2 " she said. 
 
 " Ask any man in the camp — Shaw, "Nixon, 
 young "Winton, Geordie. Ask Craig," I replied. 
 
 " Yes, he will tell me," she said. 
 
 Even as she spoke Craig came up the steps. 1 
 passed into my studio and went on with my 
 work, for my days at Black Rock were getting 
 few and many sketches remained to be filled in. 
 
 Through my open door I saw Mrs. Mavor lay 
 her letters before Mr. Craig, saying, " 1 have a 
 call, too." They thought not of me.
 
 200 Black Rock. 
 
 He went through the papers, carefully laid 
 them down without a word while she waited anx- 
 iously, almost impatiently, for him to speak. 
 
 " Well ? " she asked, using his own words to 
 her. " Should I go ? " 
 
 " I do not know," he replied. " That is for you 
 to decide — you know all the circumstances." 
 
 " The letters tell all." 
 
 Her tone carried a feeling of disappointment. 
 He did not appear to care. 
 
 " The estates are large ? " he asked. 
 
 " Yes, large enough — twelve thousand a year." 
 
 "And has your mother-in-law any one with 
 her?" 
 
 " She has friends, but, as she says, none near of 
 kin. Her nephew looks after the works — iron 
 works, you know. He has shares in them." 
 
 " She is evidently very lonely," he answered 
 gravely. 
 
 " What shall I do ? " she asked, and I knew 
 she was waiting to hear him urge her to stay ; 
 but he did not see, or at least gave no heed. 
 
 " I cannot say," he repeated quietly. " There 
 are many things to consider. The estates " 
 
 " The estates seem to trouble you," she replied 
 almost fretfully. 
 
 He looked up in surprise. I wondered at his 
 slowness.
 
 Black Rock. 201 
 
 « Yes, the estates," he went on, " and tenants, 
 I suppose — your mother-in-law ; your little Mar- 
 jorie's future, your own future." 
 
 " The estates are in capable hands, I should sup- 
 pose," she urged, " and ray future depends upon 
 what I choose my work to be." 
 
 " But one cannot shift one's responsibilities," 
 he replied gravely. " These estates, these tenants, 
 have come to you, and with them come duties." 
 
 " I do not want them," she cried. 
 
 " That life has great possibilities of good," he 
 said kindly. 
 
 "I had thought that perhaps there was work 
 for me here," she suggested timidly. 
 
 "Great work," he hastened to say. "You 
 have done great work. But you will do that 
 wherever you go. The only question is where 
 your work lies." 
 
 " You think I should go," she said suddenly and 
 a little bitterly. 
 
 " I cannot bid you stay," he answered steadily. 
 
 " How can I go ? " she cried, appealing to him. 
 « Must 1 go ? " 
 
 How he could resist that appeal I could not 
 understand. His face was cold and hard, and 
 his voice was almost harsh as he replied : 
 
 " If it is right, you will go — ^you must go." 
 
 Then she burst forth :
 
 202 Black Rock. 
 
 *' I cannot go. I shall stay here. My work ig 
 here : my heart is here. How can I go ? You 
 thought it worth your while to stay here and 
 work. Why should not I ? " 
 
 The momentary gleam in hU eyes died out, and 
 again he said coldly : 
 
 " This work was clearly mine. I am needed 
 here." 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! " she cried, her voice full of pain. 
 " You are needed, but there is no need of me." 
 
 " Stop ! stop ! " he said sharply. " You must 
 not say so." 
 
 " I will say it ! I must say it ! " she cried, her 
 voice vibrating with the intensity of her feelings. 
 " I know you do not need me. You have your 
 work, your miners, your plans ; you need no one ; 
 you are strong. But," and her voice rose to a 
 cry, " I am not strong by myself ; you have made 
 me strong. I came here a foolish girl, foolish 
 and selfish and narrow. God sent me grief. 
 Three years ago my heart died. Now I am liv- 
 ing again. I am a woman now, no longer a girl. 
 You have done this for me. Your life, your 
 words, yourself — you have shown me a better, a 
 higher life than I had ever known before, and now 
 you send me away." 
 
 She paused abruptly. 
 
 " Blind, stupid fool ! " I said to myself.
 
 Black Rock. 203 
 
 He heltl himself resolutely in hand, answering 
 carefully, but his voice had lost its coldness and 
 was sweet and kind. 
 
 " Have I done this for you ? Then surely God 
 has been good to me. And you have helped me 
 more than any words could tell you." 
 
 " Helped ! " she repeated scornfully. 
 
 " Yes, helped," he answered, wondering at her 
 scorn. 
 
 " You can do without my help," she went on. 
 *' You make people help you. You will get many 
 to help you ; but I need help, too." 
 
 She was standing before him with her hands 
 tightly clasped ; her face was pale and her eyes 
 deeper than ever. He sat looking up at her in a 
 kind of maze as she poured out her words hot and 
 fast. 
 
 " I am not thinking of you." His coldness had 
 hurt her deeply. " I am selfish ; I am thinking 
 of myself. How shall 1 do? 1 have grown to 
 depend on you, to look to you. It is nothing to 
 you that I go, but to me " 
 
 She did not dare to finish. 
 
 By this time Craig was standing before her, 
 his face deadly pale. When she came to the end 
 of her words he said in a voice low, sweety and 
 thrilling with emotion : 
 
 " Ah, if you only knew \ Do not make me
 
 204 Black Rock. 
 
 forget myself. Tou do not guess what you are 
 doing." 
 
 " What am I doing ? "What is there to know 
 but that you tell me easily to go ? " 
 
 She was struggling with the tears she was too 
 proud to let him see. 
 
 He put his hands resolutely behind him, look- 
 ing at her as if studying her face for the first time. 
 Under his searching look she dropped her eyes 
 and the warm color came slowly up into her neck 
 and face ; then, as if with a sudden resolve, she 
 lifted her eyes to his and looked back at him 
 unflinchingly. 
 
 He started, surprised, dr^w slowly near, and 
 put his hands upon her shoulders, surprise giving 
 place to wild joy. She never moved her eyes ; 
 they drew him toward her. He took her face 
 between his hands, smiled into her eyes, kissed 
 her lips. She did not move ; he stood back from 
 her, threw up his head, and laughed aloud. She 
 came to him, put her head upon his breast, and, 
 lifting up her face said : " Kiss me." He put his 
 arms about her, bent down and kissed her lips 
 again, and then reverently her brow. Then put- 
 ting her back from him, but still holding both 
 her hands, he cried : 
 
 " Ko ! you shall not go. I shall never let you 
 go."
 
 ** No! you shall not go. I shall never let you go." Page 204, 
 
 —Black Rock.
 
 Black Rock. 205 
 
 She gave a little sigh of content, and, smiling 
 up at hira, said : 
 
 " I can go now," but even as she spoke the flush 
 died from her face and she shuddered. 
 
 " Never ! " he almost shouted ; " nothing shall 
 take you away. We shall work here together.'* 
 
 " Ah, if we could, if w^e only could," she said 
 piteously. 
 
 " Why not ? " he demanded fiercely. 
 
 " You will send rae away. You will say it is 
 right for me to go," she replied sadly. 
 
 " Do we not love each other 1 " was his impa- 
 tient answer. 
 
 '■' Ah ! 3'es, love," she said, " but love is not 
 all." 
 
 " Ko ! " cried Craig ; " but love is the best." 
 
 '' Yes ! " she said sadly ; " love is the best, and 
 it is for love's sake we will do the best," 
 
 " There is no better work than here. Surely 
 this is best," and he pictured his plans before her. 
 She listened eagerly. 
 
 « Oh ! if it should be right," she cried, "I will 
 do what you say. You are good, you are wise. 
 You shall tell me." 
 
 She could not have recalled him better. He 
 stood silent some moments, then burst out pas- 
 sionately : 
 
 " Why, then, has love como to ns 1 We did
 
 2o6 Black Rock. 
 
 not seek it. Surely love is of God. Does God 
 mock us ? " 
 
 He threw himself into his chair, pouring out his 
 words of passionate protestation. She listened, 
 smiling, then came to him, and, touching his hair 
 as a mother might her child's, said : 
 
 " Oh, I am very happy I I was afraid you 
 would not care, and I could not bear to go that 
 way." 
 
 " You shall not go," he cried aloud, as if in 
 pain. " Xothing can make that right." 
 
 But she onlj' said : 
 
 " You shall tell me to-morrow. You cannot 
 see to-night, but you will see, and you will tell 
 me." 
 
 He stood up and, holding both her hands, 
 looked long into her eyes, then turned abruptly 
 away and went out. 
 
 She stood where he left her for some moments, 
 her face radiant and her hands pressed upon her 
 heart. Then she came toward my room. She 
 found me busy with my painting, but as I looked 
 up and met her eyes she flushed slightly and said : 
 
 " I quite forgot you." 
 
 " So it appeared to me." 
 
 « You heard ? " 
 
 " And saw," I replied boldly. " It would have 
 been rude to interrupt, you see."
 
 Black Rock. 207 
 
 " Oh, I am so glad and thankful." 
 
 " Yes. It was rather considerate of me." 
 
 *' Oh, I don't mean that," the flush deepening. 
 " I am glad you know." 
 
 " I have known some time." 
 
 " How could you ? I only knew to-day my- 
 self." 
 
 " I have eyes." 
 
 She flushed again. 
 
 " Do you mean that people " she began anx- 
 iously. ' 
 
 " No. I am not ' people.' 1 have eyes, and my 
 eyes have been opened." 
 
 " Opened ? " 
 
 " Yes, by love." 
 
 Then I told her openly how, weeks ago, I strug- 
 gled with my heart and mastered it, for I saw it 
 was vain to love her, because she loved a better 
 man who loved her in return. She looked at me 
 shyly and said : 
 
 " I am sorry." 
 
 « Don't worry," I said cheerfully. "I didn't 
 break my heart, you know. I stopped it in time." 
 
 " Oh ! " she said, slightly disappointed ; then 
 her lips began to twitch, and she went off into a 
 fit of hysterical laughter. 
 
 "Forgive me," she said humbly; "but you 
 speak as if it had been a fever."
 
 2o8 Black Rock. 
 
 " Fever is nothing to it," I said solemnly. " It 
 was a near thing." 
 
 At which she went off again. 1 was glad to 
 see her laugh. It gave me time to recover my 
 equilibrium and it relieved her intense emotional 
 strain. So I rattled on some nonsense about 
 Craig and myself till I «aw she was giving no 
 heed, but thinking her own thoughts ; and what 
 these were it was not hard to guess. 
 
 Suddenly she broke in upon my talk : 
 
 "He will tell me that I must go from 
 him." 
 
 " I hope he is no such fool," I said emphatically 
 and somewhat rudely, I fear ; for I confess I was 
 impatient with the very possibility of separation 
 for these two, to w^hom love meant so much. 
 Some people take this sort of thing easily and 
 some not so easily ; but love for a woman like 
 this comes once only to a man, and then he carries 
 it with him through the length of his life and 
 warms his heart with it in death. And when a 
 man smiles or sneers at such love as this, I pity 
 him and say no word, for my speech would be in 
 an unknown tongue. So my heart was sore as I 
 sat looking up at this woman who stood before 
 me, overflowing with the joy of her new love and 
 dully conscious of the coming pain. But I soon 
 found it was vain to urge my opinion that she
 
 Black Rock. 209 
 
 should remain and share the work and life of the 
 man she loved. She only answered : 
 
 " You will help him all you can, for it will hurt 
 him to have me go." 
 
 The quiver in her voice took out all the anger 
 from my heart, and before I knew I had pledged 
 myself to do all I could to help him. 
 
 But when I came upon him that night, sitting 
 in the light of his fire, I saw he must be let alone. 
 Some battles we fight side by side, with comrades 
 cheering us and being cheered to victory ; but 
 there are fights we may not share, and these are 
 deadly fights where lives are lost and won. So I 
 could only lay my hand upon his shoulder with- 
 out a word. He looked up quickly, read my face, 
 and said with a groan : 
 
 " You know ? " 
 
 " I could not help it. But why groan ? " 
 
 " She will think it right to go," he said despair- 
 ingly. 
 
 " Then you must think for her. You must 
 bring some common sense to bear upon the 
 question." 
 
 " I cannot see clearly yet," he said. " The 
 light will come." 
 
 " May I show you how to see it ? " I asked. 
 
 " Go on," he said. 
 
 For an hour I talked, eloquently, even veh^ 
 14
 
 210 Black Rock. 
 
 mently urging the reason and right of my opinion. 
 She would be doing no more than every woman 
 does, no more than she did before ; her mother- 
 in-law had a comfortable home, all that wealth 
 could procure, good servants, and friends ; the 
 estates could be managed without her personal 
 supervision ; after a few years' work here they 
 would go East for little Marjorie's education ; why 
 should two lives be broken ? — and so I went on. 
 
 He listened carefully, even eagerly. 
 
 " You make a good case," he said with a slight 
 smile. " I will take time. Perhaps you are 
 right. The light w^ill come. Surely it will come. 
 But," and here he sprang up and stretched his arms 
 to full length above his head, " I am not sorry ; 
 whatever comes I am not sorry. It is great to have 
 her love, but greater to love her as I do. Thank 
 God ! nothing can take that away. I am willing, 
 glad to suffer for the joy of loving her." 
 
 Next morning, before I was awake, he was 
 gone, leaving a note for me : 
 
 '* My Dear Connor: 
 
 " I am due at the Landing. "When I see you 
 again I think my way will be clear. Now all is 
 dark. At times I am a coward, and often, as you 
 sometimes kindly inform me, an ass ; but I hope 
 I may never become a mule. 
 
 " I am willing to be led, or want to be at any
 
 Black Rock. 211 
 
 rate. I must do the best — not second best — for her, 
 for me. Tlie best only is God's will. "What else 
 would you have ? Be good to her these days, 
 dear old fellow. Yours, 
 
 "Craig." 
 
 How often those words have braced me he 
 will never know, but I am a better man for them : 
 " The best only is God's will. What else would 
 you have ? " I resolved I would rage and fret no 
 more, and that I would worry Mrs. Mavor with 
 no more argument or expostulation, but, as my 
 friend had asked, " be good to her."
 
 212 Black Rock. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 LOVE IS NOT ALL. 
 
 Those days when we were waiting Craig's re- 
 \ urn Ave spent in the woods or on the mountain- 
 sides or down in the canyon beside the stream that 
 danced down to meet the Black Rock River, I 
 talking and sketching and reading, and she listen- 
 ing and dreaming, with often a happy smile upon 
 her face. But there were moments when a cloud 
 of shuddering fear would sweep the smile away, 
 and then I would talk of Craig till the smile 
 came back again. 
 
 But the woods and the mountains and the 
 river were her best, her Avisest friends during 
 those days. Hoav sweet the ministry of the 
 Avoods to her ! The trees were in their sum- 
 mer leaves, fresh and full of life. They swayed 
 and rustled above us, flinging their interlacing 
 shadows upon us, and their swaying and their 
 rustling soothed and comforted like the voice 
 and touch of a mother. And the mountains, too, 
 in all the glory of their varying robes of blues
 
 Black Reck. 213 
 
 and purples, stood calmly, solemnly about us, up- 
 lifting our souls into regions of rest. The chang- 
 ing lights and shadows flitted swiftly over their 
 rufrsred fronts, but left them ever as before in 
 their steadfast majesty. " God's in His heaven." 
 What would you have ? And ever the little river 
 sang its cheerful courage, fearing not the great 
 mountains that threatened to bar its passage to 
 the sea. Mrs. Mavor heard the song and her 
 courage rose. 
 
 " We too shall find our way," she said, and I 
 believed her. 
 
 But through these days I could not make her 
 out, and I found myself studying her as I might 
 a new acquaintance. Years had fallen from her ; 
 she was a girl again, full of young, warm life. 
 She was as sweet as before, but there was a soft 
 shyness over her, a half-shamed, half-frank con- 
 sciousness in her face, a glad light in her eyes 
 that made her all new to me. Her perfect trust 
 in Craig was touching to see. 
 
 " He will tell me what to do," she would say, 
 till I began to realize how impossible it would 
 be for him to betray such trust and be anything 
 but true to the best. 
 
 So mucli did I dread Craig's home-coming that 
 I sent for Graeme and old man Nelson, who was 
 more and more Graeme's trusted counselor and
 
 214 Black Rock. 
 
 friend. They were botli highly excited by the 
 story I had to tell, for I thought it best to tell 
 them all ; but I was not a little surprised and 
 disgusted that the}'- did not see the matter in my 
 light. In vain I protested against the madness 
 of allowing anything to send these two from 
 each other. Graeme summed up the discussion 
 in his own emphatic way, but with an earnest- 
 ness in his words not unusual with him. 
 
 " Craig will know better than any of us what 
 is right to do, and he will do that, and no man 
 can turn him from it ; and," he added, " I should 
 be sorry to tr3^" 
 
 Then my wrath rose and I cried : 
 
 " It's a tremendous shame ! Thev love each 
 other. You are talking sentimental humbug and 
 nonsense ! " 
 
 " He must do the right," said Kelson in his 
 Jeep, quiet voice. 
 
 "Right! Nonsense! By what right does he 
 send from him the woman he loves ? " 
 
 " ' He pleased not Himself,' " quoted K"elson 
 reverently. 
 
 " Nelson is right," said Graeme. " I should 
 not like to see him weakened." 
 
 " Look here," I stormed ; " I didn't bring you 
 men to back him up in his nonsense. I thought 
 you could keep your heads level.'*
 
 Black Rock. 215 
 
 " Kow, Connor," said Graeme, " don't rage — 
 leave that for the heathen ; it's bad form, and 
 useless besides. Craig will walk his way "where 
 his light falls ; and by all that's holy, I should 
 hate to see him fail ; for if he weakens like the 
 rest of us my North Star will have dropped from 
 my sky." 
 
 " Nice selfish spirit," I muttered. 
 
 " Entirely so. I'm not a saint, but I feel like 
 steering by one when I see him." 
 
 When, after a week had gone, Craig rode up 
 one early morning to his shack door, his face told 
 me that he had fought his fight and had not been 
 beaten. He had ridden all night and was ready 
 to drop with weariness. 
 
 " Connor, old boy," he said, putting out his 
 hand, " I'm rather played. There was a bad row 
 at the Landing. 1 have just closed poor Colley's 
 eyes. It was awful. I must get sleep. Look 
 after Dandy, will you, like a good chap ? " 
 
 " Oh, Dandy be hanged ! " I said, for I knew 
 it was not the fight, nor the watching, nor the 
 long ride that had shaken his iron nerve and given 
 him that face. " Go in and lie down. I'll bring 
 you something." 
 
 " "Wake me in the afternoon," he said. " She 
 is waiting. Perhaps you will go to her" — his 
 lips quivered — " my nerve is rather gone." Then
 
 2i6 Black Rock. 
 
 with a very wan smile he added : " I am giving 
 you a lot of trouble." 
 
 " You go to thunder ! " I burst out, for my 
 throat was hot and sore with grief for him. ^ 
 
 " I think I'd rather go to sleep," he replied, 
 still smiling, 
 
 I could not speak, and was glad of the chance 
 of being alone with Dandy. 
 
 "VV hen I came in I found him sitting with his 
 head in his arms upon the table fast asleep. 1 
 made him tea, forced him to take a warm bath, 
 and sent him to bed, while I went to Mrs. 
 Mavor. I went with a fearful heart, but that 
 was because I had forgotten the kind of woman 
 she was. 
 
 She was standing in the light of the window 
 waiting for me. Her face was pale but steady, 
 there was a proud light in her fathomless eyes, a 
 slight smile parted her lips, and she carried her 
 head like a queen. 
 
 " Come in," she said. " You need not fear 
 to tell me. I saw him ride home. He has 
 not failed, thank God ! I am proud of him. I 
 knew he would be true. He loves me" — she 
 drew in her breath sharply and a faint color 
 tinged her cheeks — " but he knows love is not 
 all — ah, love is not all I Oh I I am glad and 
 proud 1 "
 
 Black Rock. 217 
 
 " Glad ! " I gasped, amazed. 
 
 " You would not have him prove faithless I " 
 she said with proud defiance. 
 
 " Oh, it is high sentimental nonsense," I could 
 not help saying. 
 
 " You should not say so," she replied, and her 
 voice rang clear. " Honor, faith, and duty are 
 sentiments, but they are not nonsense." 
 
 In spite of my rage I was lost in amazed ad- 
 miration of the high spirit of the woman who 
 stood up so straight before me. But as I told 
 how worn and broken he was she listened with 
 changing color and swelling bosom, her proud 
 courage all gone, and only love, anxious and pity- 
 ing, in her eyes. 
 
 " Shall I go to him ? " she asked with timid 
 eagerness and deepening color. 
 
 " He is sleeping. He said he would come to 
 you," I replied. 
 
 " I shall wait for him," she said softly, and the 
 tenderness in her tone went straight to my heart, 
 and it seemed to me a man might suffer much to 
 be loved with love such as this. 
 
 In the earlv afternoon Graeme came to her. 
 She met him with both hands outstretched, 
 saying in a low voice : 
 
 " I am very happy." 
 
 " Are you sure ? " he asked anxiously.
 
 2i8 Black Rock. 
 
 " Oh, yes," she said, but her voice was like a 
 sob ; " quite, quite sure." 
 
 They talked long together till I saw that Craig 
 must soon be coming, and I called Graeme away. 
 He held her hands, looking steadily into her eyes, 
 and said : 
 
 " You are better even than I thought. I'm 
 going to be a better man." 
 
 Her eyes filled with tears, but her smile did not 
 fade as she answered : 
 
 " Yes ! you will be a good man, and God will 
 give you work to do." 
 
 He bent his head over her hands and stepped 
 back from her as from a queen, but he spoke no 
 words till we came to Craig's door. Then he 
 said with humility that seemed strange in him : 
 
 " Connor, that is great, to conquer one's self. 
 It is worth while, I am going to try." 
 
 I would not have missed his meeting with 
 Craig. Nelson was busy with tea. Craig was 
 writing near the window. He looked up as 
 Graeme came in and nodded an easy good-eve- 
 ning ; but Graeme strode to him and, putting one 
 hand on his shoulder, held out his hand for Craig 
 to take. 
 
 After a moment's surprise Craig rose to his feet, 
 and, facing him squarely, took the offered hand 
 in both of his and held it fast without a word.
 
 Black Rock. 219 
 
 Graeme was the first to speak, and his voice was 
 deep with emotion : 
 
 " You are a great man, a good man, I'd give 
 something to have your grit." 
 
 Poor Craig stood looking at him, not daring to 
 speak for some moments ; then he said quietly : 
 
 " Not good nor great, but, thank God, not quite 
 a traitor." 
 
 " Good man ! " went on Graeme, patting him 
 on the shoulder. " Good man ! But it's tough." 
 
 Craig sat down quickly, saying : 
 
 " Don't do that, old chap ! " 
 
 I went up with Craig to Mrs. Mavor's door. 
 She did not hear us coming, but stood near the 
 window gazing up at the mountains. She was 
 dressed in some rich soft stuff and wore at her 
 breast a bunch of wild flowers. I had never seen 
 her so beautiful. I did not wonder that Craig 
 paused with his foot upon the threshold to look 
 at her. She turned and saw us. "With a glad 
 cry, " Oh ! my darling ! you have come to me," 
 she came with outstretched arms. I turned and 
 fled, but the cry and the vision were long with 
 me. 
 
 It was decided that night that Mrs, Mavor 
 should go the next week. A miner and his wife 
 were going East, and I too would join the partv. 
 
 The camp went into mourning at the news, but
 
 220 Black Rock. 
 
 it was understood that any display of grief before 
 Mrs. Mavor Avas bad form. She was not to be 
 annoyed. 
 
 But Avhen I suggested that she should leave 
 quietly and avoid the pain of saying good-by, she 
 flatly refused. 
 
 " I must say good-by to every man. They love 
 me and I love them." 
 
 It was decided, too, at first, that there should 
 be nothing in the way of a testimonial, but when 
 Craig found out that the men were coming to her 
 with ail sorts of extraordinary gifts, he agreed 
 that it would be better that they should unite in 
 one gift. So it was agreed that I should buy a 
 ring for her. And were it not that the contribu- 
 tions were strictly limited to one dollar, the purse 
 that Slavin handed her when Shaw read the ad- 
 dress at the farewell supper would have been 
 many times filled with the gold that was pressed 
 upon the committee. There were no speeches at 
 the supper, except one by myself in reply on Mrs. 
 Mavor's behalf. She had given me the words to 
 say, and 1 was thoroughly prepared, else I should 
 not have got through. I began in the usual way ; 
 " Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen : Mrs. 
 
 Mavor is " But I got no further, for at the 
 
 mention of her name the men stood on the chairs 
 and yelled until they could yell no more. There
 
 Black Rock. 221 
 
 were over two hundred and fifty of them, and the 
 effect was overpowering. But I got through my 
 speech. 
 
 I remember it well. It began : " Mrs. Mavor 
 is greatl}?- touched by this mark of your love, and 
 she will wear your ring always with pride." And 
 it ended with : " She has one request to make, 
 that you will be true to the league and that you 
 stand close about the man who did most to make 
 it. She wishes me to say that however far away 
 she may have to go, she is leaving her heart in 
 Black Rock, and she can think of no greater joy 
 than to come back to you again." 
 
 Then they had " The Sweet By and By," but 
 the men would not join in the refrain, unwilling 
 to lose a note of the glorious voice they loved to 
 hear. Before the last verse she beckoned to me. 
 I went to her standing by Craig's side as he 
 played for her. 
 
 " Ask them to sing," she entreated. " I cannot 
 bear it." 
 
 " Mrs. Mavor wishes you to sing in the refrain," 
 I said, and at once the men sat up and cleared 
 their throats. The singing was not good, for at 
 the first sound of the hoarse notes of the men 
 Craig's head went down over the organ, for he 
 was thinking, I suppose, of the days before them 
 when they would long in vain for that thrilling
 
 222 Black Rock. 
 
 voice that soared high over their own hoarse tones. 
 And after the voices died away he kept on playing 
 till, half turning toward him, she sang alone once 
 more the refrain in a voice low and sweet and 
 tender, as if for him alone. And so he took it, 
 for he smiled up at her his old smile full of courage 
 and full of love. 
 
 Then for one whole hour she stood saying good- 
 by to those rough, gentle-hearted men whose in- 
 spiration to goodness she had been for five years. 
 It was very wonderful and very quiet. It was 
 understood that there was to be no nonsense, and 
 Abe had been heard to declare that he would 
 " throw out any cotton-backed fool who couldn't 
 hold himself down," and further, he had enjoined 
 them to remember that her arm " wasn't a pump- 
 handle." 
 
 At last they were all gone, all but her guard of 
 honor — Shaw, Vernon, Winton, Geordie, Nixon, 
 Abe, Nelson, Craig, and myself. 
 
 This was the real farewell ; for though in the 
 early light of the next morning two hundred men 
 stood silent about the stage, and then as it moved 
 out waved their hats and yelled madly, this was 
 the last touch they had of her hand. Her place 
 was up on the driver's seat between Abe and Mr. 
 Craig, who held little Marjorie on his knee. The 
 rest of the guard of honor were to follow wiih
 
 Black Rock. 223 
 
 Graeme's team. It was "Winton's fine sense that 
 kept Graeme from following them close. " Let 
 her go out alone," he said, and so we held back 
 and watched her go. 
 
 She stood with her back toward Abe's plunging 
 four-horse team, and steadying herself with one 
 hand on Abe's shoulder, gazed down upon us. 
 Her head was bare, her lips parted in a smile, her 
 eyes glowing with their own deep light ; and so, 
 facing us, erect and smiling, she drove away, 
 waving us farewell till Abe swung his team into 
 the canyon road and we saw her no more. A 
 sigh shuddered through the crowd, and, with a 
 sob in his voice, Winton said : " God help us all.'* 
 
 I close my eyes and see it all again. The 
 waving crowd of dark-faced men, the plunging 
 horses, and, high up beside the driver, the sway- 
 ing, smiling, weaving figure, and about all the 
 mountains, framing the picture with their dai-k 
 sides and white peaks tipped with the gold of the 
 rising sun. It is a picture I love to look upon, 
 albeit it calls up another that I can never see but 
 through tears. 
 
 I look across a strip of ever-widening water at 
 a group of men upon the wharf, standing with 
 heads uncovered, every man a hero, though not a 
 man of them suspects it, least of all the man who 
 stands in front, strong, resolute, self -conquered.
 
 224 Black Rock. 
 
 And, gazing long, I think I see him turn again to 
 bis place among the men of the mountains, not 
 forgetting, but every day remembering the great 
 love that came to him, and remembering, too, 
 that love is not all. It is then the tears come. 
 
 But for that picture two of us at least are better 
 mea to-day.
 
 Black Rock. 225 
 
 CHAPTEK Xin, 
 
 HOW NELSON CAME HOME. 
 
 Through the long summer tlie mountains and 
 the pines were with me. And through the winter 
 too, busy as I was filling in ray Black Rock 
 sketches for the railroad people who would still 
 persist in ordering them by the dozen, the memory 
 of that stirring life would come over me, and once 
 more I would be among the silent pines and the 
 mighty snow-peaked mountains. And before me 
 would appear the red-shirted shantymen or dark- 
 faced miners, great, free, bold fellows, driving me 
 almost mad with the desire to seize and fix those 
 swiftly changing groups of picturesque figures. 
 At such times I would drop my sketch, and with 
 eager brush seize a group, a face, a figure, and 
 that is how my studio comes to be filled with the 
 men of Black Rock. There they are all about me. 
 Graeme and the men from the woods, Sandy, 
 Baptiste, the Campbells, and in many attitudes 
 and groups old man Nelson ; Craig, too, and his 
 miners, Shaw, Geordie, Nixon, and poor old Billy 
 and the keeper of the league saloon. 
 5
 
 226 Black Rock. 
 
 It seemed as if I lived among them, and the 
 illusion was greatly helped by the vivid letters 
 Graeme sent me from time to time. Brief notes 
 came now and then from Craig, too, to whom I 
 had sent a faithful account of how I had brought 
 Mrs. Mavor to her ship, and of how I had watched 
 her sail aw^ay w^ith none too brave a face as she 
 held up her hand that bore the miner's ring and 
 smiled with that deep light in her eyes. Ah ! 
 those eyes have driven me to despair and made 
 me fear that I am no great painter, after all, in 
 spite of W' hat ray friends tell me who come in to 
 smoke my good cigars and praise my brush. I 
 can get the brow and hair and mouth and pose, 
 but the e3'es ! the eyes elude me — and the faces of 
 Mrs. Mavor on my wall, that the men praise and 
 rave over, are not such as I could show to anv of 
 the men from the mountains. 
 
 Graeme's letters tell me chiefly about Craig 
 and his doings and about old man iSTelson ; while 
 from Craig I hear about Graeme, and how^ he and 
 Kelson are standing at his back and doing what 
 they can to fill the gap that never can be filled. 
 The three are much together, I can see, and lam 
 glad for them all, but chiefly for Craig, whose 
 face, grief-stricken but resolute, and often gentle 
 as a woman's, will not leave me nor let me rest 
 in peace.
 
 Black Rock. 227 
 
 The note of thanks he sent me was entirely 
 characteristic. There were no heroics, much less 
 pining or self-pity. It was simple and manly, 
 not ignoring the pain, but making much of the joy. 
 And then they had their work to do. That note, 
 so clear, so manly, so nobly sensible, stifiens my 
 back yet at times. 
 
 In the spring came the startling news that Black 
 Rock would soon be no more. The mines were 
 to close down on April ] . The company, having 
 allured the confiding public with enticing de- 
 scriptions of marvelous drifts, veins, assays, and 
 prospects, and having expended vast sums of the 
 public's money in developing the mines till the 
 assurance of their reliability was absolutely final, 
 calmly shut down and vanished. "With their 
 vanishing vanishes Black Rock, not without loss 
 and much deep cursing on the part of the men 
 brought some hundreds of miles to aid the com- 
 pany in its extraordinary and wholly inexplicable 
 game. 
 
 Personally it grieved me to think that my plan 
 of returning to Black Rock could never be carried 
 out. It was a great compensation, however, that 
 the three men most representative to me of that 
 life were soon to visit me actually in my own 
 home and den. Graeme's letter said that in one 
 month they might be expected to appear. At
 
 228 Black Rock. 
 
 least he and Nelson were soon to come, and Craig 
 would soon follow. 
 
 On receiving the great news I at once looked 
 up young Nelson and his sister, and we proceeded 
 to celebrate the joyful prospect with a specially 
 good dinner. I found the greatest delight in 
 picturing the joy and pride of the old man in his 
 children, whom he had not seen for fifteen or six- 
 teen years. The mother had died some five years 
 before, then the farm was sold, and the brother 
 and sister came into the city ; and any father 
 might be proud of them. The son was a well- 
 made young fellow, handsome enough, thoughtful, 
 and solid-looking. The girl reminded me of her 
 father. The same resolution was seen in mouth 
 and jaw and the same passion slumbered in the 
 dark gray eyes. She was not beautiful, but she 
 carried herself well, and one would always look 
 at her twice. It would be worth something to 
 see the meeting between father and daughter. 
 
 But fate, the greatest artist of us all, takes 
 little count of the careful drawing and the bright 
 colorings of our fancy's pictures, but with rude 
 hand deranges all, and with one swift sweep 
 paints out the bright and paints in the dark. 
 And this trick he served me when, one June 
 night, after long and anxious waiting for some 
 word from the "West, my door suddenly opened
 
 Black Rock. 229 
 
 and Graeme "walked in upon me like a specter, 
 gray and voiceless. My shout of welcome was 
 choked back by the look in his face, and I could 
 only gaze at him and wait for his word. He 
 gripped my hand, tried to speak, but failed to 
 make words come. 
 
 " Sit down, old man," I said, pushing him into 
 my chair, " and take your time." 
 
 He obeyed, looking up at me with burning, 
 sleepless eyes. My heart was sore for his misery, 
 and I said, " Don't mind, old chap ; it can't be 
 so awfully bad. You're here safe and sound, 
 at any rate," and so I went on to give him 
 time. But he shuddered and looked round and 
 groaned. 
 
 "Now, look here, Graeme, let's have it. "When 
 did you land here ? "Where is Nelson ? Why 
 didn't you bring him up ? " 
 
 " He is at the station in his coffin," he answered 
 slowly. 
 
 " In his coffin ? " I echoed, my beautiful pic- 
 tures all vanishing. " How was it ? " 
 
 " Through my cursed folly," he groaned bit- 
 terly. 
 
 " What happened ? " I asked. 
 
 But ignoring my question he said : 
 
 " I must see his children. I have not slept for 
 four nights. I hardly know what I am doing j
 
 230 Black Rock. 
 
 but I can't rest till I see his children. I promised 
 him. Get them for me." 
 
 " To-morrow will do. Go to sleep now, and we 
 shall arrange everything to-morrow," I urged. 
 
 " JSTo ! " he said fiercely ; " to-night— now ! " 
 
 In half an hour they were listening, pale and 
 grief -stricken, to the story of their father's death. 
 
 Poor Graeme was relentless in his self-condem- 
 nation as he told how, through his " cursed folly," 
 old Nelson was killed. The three — Craig, 
 Graeme, and Nelson — had come as far as Victo- 
 ria together. There they left Craig and came on 
 to San Francisco. In an evil hour Graeme met a 
 companion of other and evil days, and it was not 
 long till the old fever came upon him. 
 
 In vain Nelson warned and pleaded. The re- 
 action from the monotony and poverty of camp 
 life to the excitement and luxury of the San Fran- 
 Cisco gaming palaces swung Graeme quite off his 
 feet, and all that Nelson could do was to follow 
 from place to place and keep watch. 
 
 " And there he would sit," said Graeme in a 
 hard bitter voice, " waiting and watching often 
 till the gray morning light, while my madness 
 held me fast to the table. One nig-ht " — here he 
 paused a moment, put his face in his hands and 
 shuddered ; but quickly he was master of himself 
 again, and went on in the same hard voice — " one
 
 Black Rock. 231 
 
 night ra}'" partner and I were playing two men 
 who had done us up before. I knew they were 
 cheating, but could not detect them. Game after 
 game they won, till I was furious at my stupidity 
 in not being able to catch them. Happening to 
 glance at Nelson in the corner, I caught a mean- 
 ing look, and looking again, he threw me a signal. 
 I knew at once what the fraud was, and next 
 game charged the fellow with it. He gave me 
 the lie ; I struck his mouth, but before I could draw 
 my gun, his partner had me by the arms. "What 
 followed I hardly knew. While I was struggling 
 to get free I saw him reach for his weapon, but 
 as he drew it Nelson sprang across the table and 
 bore him down. When the row was over three 
 men lay on the floor. One was Nelson ; he took 
 the shot meant for me." 
 
 Again the story paused. 
 
 " And the man that shot him ? " 
 
 I started at the intense fierceness in the voice, 
 and, looking upon the girl, saw her eyes blazing 
 with a terrible light. 
 
 '' He is dead," answered Graeme indifferently. 
 
 " You killed him ? " she asked eagerly. 
 
 Graeme looked at her curiously and answered 
 slowly : 
 
 " I did not mean to. He came at me. T struck 
 him harder than I knew. He never moved."
 
 232 Black Rock. 
 
 She drew a sigh of satisfaction and waited. 
 
 " I got him to a private ward, had the best doctor 
 in the city, and sent for Craig to Victoria. For 
 three days we thought he would live— he was 
 keen to get home ; but by the time Craig came 
 we had given up hope. Oh, but I was thankful 
 to see Craig come in, and the joy in the old man's 
 eyes was beautiful to see. There was no pain at 
 last, and no fear. He would not allow me to re- 
 proach myself, saying over and over, ' You would 
 have done the same for me ' — as I would, fast 
 enough — ' and it is better me than you. I am old 
 and done ; you will do much good yet for the 
 boys.' And he kept looking at me till I could 
 only promise to do my best. 
 
 " But I am glad I told him how much good he 
 had done me during the last year, for he seemed 
 to think that too good to be true. And when Craig 
 told him how he had helped the boys in the camp, 
 and how Sandy and Baptiste and the Campbells 
 would ahvaj'^s be better men for his life among 
 them, the old man's face actually shone, as if 
 light were coming through. And with surprise 
 and joy he kept on saying, ' Do you think so ? 
 Do 3'ou think so ? Perhaps so ; perhaps so.' 
 At the last he talked of Christmas night at the 
 camp. You were there, you remember. Craig 
 laad been holding a service, and something
 
 Black Rock. 233 
 
 happened. I don't know what, but they both 
 knew.'* 
 
 " I know," I said, and I saw again the picture 
 of the old man under the pine, upon his knees in 
 the snow, with his face turned up to the stars. 
 
 " Whatever it was, it was in his mind at the 
 very last, and I can never forget his face as he 
 turned it to Craig. One hears of such things : 1 
 had often, but had never put much faith in them ; 
 but joy, rapture, triumph, these are what were in 
 his face as he said, his breath coming short : 
 * You said — He wouldn't — fail me — you were 
 rio-ht — not once — not once — He stuck to me — 
 I'm glad he told me — thank God — for you — you 
 
 showed — me— I'll sje Him — and — tell Him ' 
 
 And Craig, kneeling beside him so steady — I was 
 behaving like a fool — smiled down through his 
 streaming tears into the dim eyes so brightly till 
 they could see no more. Thank him for that ! 
 He helped the old man through, and he helped 
 me too, that night, thank God ! " 
 
 And Graeme's voice, hard till now, broke in a 
 sob. 
 
 He had forgotten us and was back beside his 
 passing friend, and all his self-control could not 
 keep back the flowing tears. 
 
 " It was his life for mine," he said huskily. 
 
 The brother and sister were quietly weeping,
 
 234 Black Rock. 
 
 but spoke no word, though 1 knew Graeme was 
 waiting for them. 
 
 I took up the word and told of what I had 
 known of Nelson and his influence upon the men 
 of Black Rock. They listened eagerly enough, 
 but still without speaking. There seemed noth- 
 ing to say till I suggested to Graeme that he must 
 get some rest. Then the girl turned to him, and 
 impulsively putting out her hand, said : 
 
 " Oh, it is all so sad ; but how can we ever 
 thank you ? " 
 
 " Thank me ! " gasped Graeme. " Can you for- 
 give me ? I brought him to his death." 
 
 "No! no! You must not say so," she an- 
 swered hurriedly. " You would have done the 
 same for him." 
 
 " God knows I would," said Graeme earnestly ; 
 " and God bless you for your words I " 
 
 And I was thankful to see the tears start in his 
 dry, burning eyes. 
 
 We carried him to the old home in the country, 
 that he might lie by the side of the wife he had 
 loved and wronged. A few friends met us at the 
 wayside station and followed in sad procession 
 along the country road that wound past farms 
 and through woods, and at last up to the ascent 
 where the quaint old wooden church, black with 
 the rains and snows of many years, stood among
 
 Black Rock. 235 
 
 its silent graves. The little graveyard sloped 
 gently toward the setting sun, and from it one 
 could see, far on every side, the fields of grain and 
 meadow-land that wandered off over softly un- 
 dulating hills to meet the maple woods at the 
 horizon, dark, green, and cool. Here and there 
 white farmhouses, with great barns standing 
 near, looked out from clustering orchards. 
 
 Up the grass-grown walk and through the 
 crowding mounds, over which waves, uncut, the 
 long, tangling grass, we bear our friend, and let 
 him gently down into the kindly bosom of mother 
 earth, dark, moist, and warm. The sound of a 
 distant cow-bell mingles with the voice of the 
 last prayer ; the clods drop heavily with heart- 
 startling echo ; the mound is heaped and shaped 
 by kindly friends, sharing with one another the 
 task ; the long rough sods are laid over and 
 patted into place ; the old minister takes farewell 
 in a few words of gentle sympathy ; the brother 
 and sister, with lingering looks at the two graves 
 side by side, the old and the new, step into tlie 
 farmer's carriage and drive away ; the sexton 
 locks the gate and goes home, and we are left 
 outside alone. 
 
 Then we went back and stood by Nelson's 
 grave. 
 
 After a long silence Graeme spoke.
 
 236 Black Rock. 
 
 " Connor, he did not grudge his life to me, and 
 I think " — and here the words came slowly — " I 
 understand now what that means, * Who loved 
 me and gave Himself for me.' " 
 
 Then taking off his hat he said reverently i 
 
 " By God's help Nelson's life shall not end, 
 but shall go on. Yes, old man ! " looking down 
 upon the grave, " I'm with you ; " and lifting up 
 his face to the calm sky, " God help me to be 
 true." 
 
 Then he turned and walked briskly away, as one 
 might who had pressing business or as soldiers 
 march from a comrade's grave to a merry tune, 
 not that they have forgotten, but they have still 
 to fight. 
 
 And this was the way old man Nelson came 
 home.
 
 Black Rock. 237 
 
 CHAPTER xnr. 
 
 gkaeme's new birth. 
 
 There Avas more left in that grave than old 
 man Nelson's dead body. It seemed to me that 
 Graeme left part, at least, of his old self there 
 with his dead friend and comrade in the quiet 
 country churchyard. I waited long for the old 
 careless, reckless spirit to appear, but he was 
 never the same again. The change was unmis- 
 takable, but hard to define. He seemed to have 
 resolved his life into a definite purpose. lie was 
 hardly so comfortable a fellow to be with ; he 
 made me feel even more lazy and useless than 
 was ray wont ; but I respected him more and 
 liked^him none the less. As a lion he was not a 
 success. He would not roar. This was disap 
 pointing to me and to his friends and mine, who 
 had been waiting his return with eager expecta- 
 tion of tales of thrilling and bloodthirsty adven- 
 ture. 
 
 His first days were spent in making right, or 
 as nearly right as he could, the break that drove 
 him to the West. His old firm (and I have had.
 
 238 Black Rock. 
 
 more respect for the humanity of lawyers ever 
 since) behaved really well. They proved the 
 restoration of their confidence in his intesrritv 
 and ability by offering him a place in the firm, 
 which, however, he w^ould not accept. Then, 
 when he felt clean, as he said, he posted off home, 
 taking me with him. During the railroad journey 
 of four hours he hardly spoke ; but when we had 
 left the town behind and had fairly got upon the 
 country road that led toward the home ten miles 
 away, his speech came to him in a great flow. 
 His spirits ran over. He was like a boy return- 
 ing from his first college term. His very face 
 wore the boy's open, innocent, earnest look that 
 used to attract men to him in his first college 
 year. His delight in the fields and woods in the 
 sweet country air and the sunlight was without 
 bound. How often had we driven this road to- 
 gether in the old days ! 
 
 Every turn was familiar. The swamp where 
 the tamaracks stood straight and slim out of 
 their beds of moss ; the brule, as we used to call 
 it, where the pine stumps, huge and blackened, 
 were half hidden by the new growth of poplars and 
 soft maples ; the big hill where we used to get 
 out and walk when the roads were bad ; the or- 
 chards where the harvest apples were best and 
 most accessible — all had their memories.
 
 Black Rock. 239 
 
 It 'was one of those perfect afternoons tbat so 
 often come m the earlv Canadian summer, before 
 nature grows weary with the heat. The wliite 
 gravel road was trimmed on either side with turf 
 of living green, close cropped by the sheep that 
 wandered in flocks alono; its whole length. Be- 
 yond the picturesque snake-fences stretched the 
 fields of springing grain, of varying shades of green, 
 with here and there a dark brown patch, marking 
 a turnip field or summer fallow, and far back Avere 
 the woods of maple and beech and elm, with here 
 and there the tufted top of a mighty pine, the 
 lonely representative of a vanished race, stand- 
 ing clear above the humbler trees. 
 
 As we drove through the big swamp, where 
 the yawning, haunted gully plunges down to its 
 gloomy depths, Graeme reminded me of that 
 nifjht when our horse saw somethinor in that same 
 gully and refused to go past ; and I felt again, 
 thou^li it was broad daylight, something of the 
 grue tliat shivered down my back as I saw in the 
 moonlight the gleam of a white thing far through 
 the pine trunks. 
 
 As we came nearer home the houses became 
 familiar. Every house had its tale : we had eaten 
 or slept in most of them ; we had sampled apples, 
 and cherries, and phims from their orchards, 
 openly as guests or secretly as marauders under
 
 240 Black Rock. 
 
 cover of night — the more delightful way, I fear. 
 A h ! happy days, with these innocent crimes and 
 fleeting remorses, how bravely we faced them, 
 and how gaily we lived them, and how yearn- 
 ingly we look back at them now ! The sun was 
 just dipping into the tree-tops of the distant 
 woods behind as we came to the top of the last 
 hill that overlooked the valley in which lay the 
 village of Riverdale. AVooded hills stood about 
 it on three sides, and where the hills faded out 
 there lay the mill-pond sleeping and smiling in 
 the sun. Through the village ran the white road, 
 up past the old frame church, and on to the 
 white manse standing among the trees. That 
 was Graeme's home, and mine too, for I had never 
 known another worthy of the name. "We held 
 up our team to look down over the valley, with 
 its rampart of wooded hills, its shining pond, 
 and its nestling village, and on past to the church 
 and the white manse hiding among the trees. 
 The beauty, the peace, the warm, loving homeli- 
 ness of the scene came about our hearts, but, be- 
 ing men, we could find no words. 
 
 " Let's go," cried Graeme, and down the hill 
 we tore and rocked and swayed, to the amazement 
 of the steadv team, whose education from the 
 earliest years had impressed upon their minds the 
 criminality of attempting to do anything but
 
 Black Rock. 241 
 
 walk carefully clown a hill, at least for two-thirds 
 of the way. Through the village, in a cloud of 
 dust, we swept, catching a glimpse of a well- 
 known face here and there and flinging a saluta- 
 tion as we passed, leaving the owner of the face 
 rooted to his place in astonishment at the sight 
 of Graeme whirling on in his old-time, well-known 
 reckless manner. Only old Dune M'Leod was 
 equal to the moment, for as Graeme called out, 
 " Hello, Dune ! " the old man lifted up his hands 
 and called back in an awed voice : " Bless my 
 soul I Is it yourself ? " 
 
 " Stands his whisky well, poor old chap I " was 
 Graeme's comment. 
 
 As we neared the church he pulled up his team, 
 and we went quietly past the sleepers there, then 
 again on the full run down the gentle slope, over 
 the little brook, and up to the gate. He had 
 hardly got his team pulled up before flinging me 
 the lines, he was out over the wheel, for coming 
 down the walk, with her hands lifted high, was a 
 dainty little lady with the face of an angel. In 
 a moment Graeme had her in his arms. I heard 
 the faint cry, " My boy! my boy!" and got 
 down on the other side to attend to my off horse, 
 surprised to find my hands trembling and my 
 eyes full of tears. Back upon the steps stood 
 
 an old gentleman, with white hair and flowing 
 16
 
 242 Black Rock. 
 
 beard, handsome, straight, and stately — Graeme's 
 father, waiting his turn. 
 
 " Welcome home, my lad," was his greeting as 
 he kissed his son, and the tremor of his voice 
 and the sight of the two men kissing each other 
 like women sent me again to my horses' heads. 
 
 " There's Connor, mother ! " shouted out 
 Graeme, and the dainty little lady, in her blaok 
 silk and white lace, came out to me quickly with 
 outstretched hands. 
 
 " You, too, are welcome home," she said, and 
 kissed me. 
 
 I stood with my hat off, saying something 
 about being glad to come, but wishing that I 
 could get away before I should make quite a fool 
 of myself. For as I looked down upon that 
 beautiful face, pale except for a faint flush upon 
 each faded cheek, and read the story of pain en- 
 dured and conquered, and as I thought of all the 
 long years of waiting and of vain hoping, 1 found 
 my throat dry and sore, and the words would 
 not come. But her quick sense needed no 
 words, and she came to my help. 
 
 " You will find Jack at the stable," she said, 
 smiling. " He ought to have been here." 
 
 The stable ! "Why had I not thought of that 
 before ? Thankfully now my words came : 
 
 " Yes, certainly I'll find him, Mrs. Graeme. I
 
 Black Rock. 243 
 
 suppose he's as much of a scapegrace as ever," 
 and off I went to look up Graeme's young brother, 
 who had given every promise in the old days of 
 development into as stirring a rascal as one could 
 desire ; but who, as I found out later, had not 
 lived these years in his mother's home for noth- 
 ing. 
 
 " Oh, Jack's a good boy," she answered, smil- 
 ing again as she turned toward the other two, 
 now waiting for her upon the walk. 
 
 The week that followed was a happy one for 
 us all ; but for the mother it was full to the brim 
 with joy. Her sweet face was full of content 
 and in her eyes rested a great peace. Our days 
 were spent driving about among the hills, or 
 strolling through the maple woods, or down into 
 the tamarack swamp, where the pitcher plants 
 and the swamp lilies and the marigold waved 
 above the deep moss. In the evenings we sat 
 under the trees on the lawn till the stars came 
 out and the night dews drove us in. Like twe 
 lovers, Graeme and his mother would wander 
 off too-ether, leaving Jack and me to each other. 
 Jack was reading for divinity and was really a 
 fine, manly fellow, with all his brother's turn for 
 Rugby, and I took to him amazingly ; but after 
 the day was over we would gather about the f 
 supper-table, and the talk would be of all ihings
 
 244 Black Rock. 
 
 under heaven — art, football, theology. The 
 mother would lead in all. How quick she was, 
 how bright her fancy, how subtle her intellect, 
 and through all a gentle grace, very winning and 
 beautiful to see ! 
 
 Do what I would, Graeme would talk little of 
 the mountains and his life there. 
 
 " My lion will not roar, Mrs. Graeme," I com- 
 plained ; " he simply will not." 
 
 " You should twist his tail," said Jack. 
 
 " That seems to be the difficulty, Jack," said 
 his mother, " to get hold of his tale." 
 
 " Oh, mother," groaned Jack ; " you never did 
 such a thing before ! How could you ? Is it 
 this baleful "Western influence ? " 
 
 " I shall reform, Jack," she replied brightly. 
 
 " But, seriously, Graeme," I remonstrated," you 
 ought to tell your people of your life — that free, 
 glorious life in the mountains." 
 
 " Free ! Glorious ! To some men, perhaps ! " 
 said Graeme, and then fell into silence. 
 
 But I saw Graeme as a new man the night he 
 talked theology with his father. The old minister 
 was a splendid Calvinist, of heroic type, and as 
 he discoursed of God's sovereignty and election 
 his face glowed and his voice rang out. 
 
 Graeme listened intently, now and then putting - 
 in a question, as one would a kecR knife-thrust
 
 Black Rock. 245 
 
 into a foe. But the old man knew his ground and 
 moved easily among his ideas, demolishing tlie 
 enemy as he appeared with jaunty grace. In 
 the full flow of his triumphant argument Graeme 
 turned to him with sudden seriousness. 
 
 " Look here, father ! I was born a Calvinist, 
 and I can't see how any one with a level head can 
 hold anything else than that the Almighty has 
 some idea as to how He wants to run His universe, 
 and He means to carry out His idea and is carry- 
 ing it out ; but what would you do in a case like 
 this?" 
 
 Then he told him the story of poor Billy Breen, 
 his fight and his defeat. 
 
 " Would you preach election to that chap ? " 
 
 The mother's eyes were shining with tears. 
 
 The old gentleman blew his nose like a trumpet 
 and then said gravely : 
 
 " No, my boy. You don't feed babies with 
 meat. But what came to him ? " 
 
 Then Graeme asked me to finish the tale. After 
 I had finished the story of Billy's final triumph 
 and of Craig's part in it they sat long silent, till 
 the minister, clearing his throat hard and blowing 
 his nose more like a trumpet than ever, said with 
 great emphasis : 
 
 " Thank God for such a man in such a place ! 
 I wish there were more of us like him."
 
 246 Black Rock. 
 
 " I should like to see you out there, sir," said 
 Graeme admiringly. " You'd get them, but you 
 wouldn't have time for election." 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! " said his father warmly. " I 
 should love to have a chance just to preach elec- 
 tion to these poor lads. Would I were twenty 
 years younger ! " 
 
 " It is worth a man's life," said Graeme earnestly. 
 
 His younger brother turned his face eagerly to- 
 ward the mother. For answer she slipped her 
 hand into his and said softly, while her eyes shone 
 like stars : 
 
 " Some day, Jack, perhaps ! God knows." 
 
 But Jack only looked steadily at her, smiling a 
 little and patting her hand. 
 
 " You'd shine there, mother," said Graeme, smil« 
 ing upon her. " You'd better come with me." 
 
 She started and said firmly : 
 
 " With you ? " It was the first hint he had 
 given of his purpose. " You are going back ? " 
 
 " What ! as a missionary ? " said Jack. 
 
 "Not to preach, Jack. I'm not orthodox 
 enough," looking at his father and shaking his 
 head ; " but to build railroads and lend a hand to 
 some poor chap, if I can." 
 
 "Could you not find work nearer home, my 
 boy ? " asked the father. " There is plenty of both 
 kinds near us here, surely." 
 
 ^
 
 Black Rock. 247 
 
 " Lots of work, but not mine, I fear," answered 
 Graeme, keeping his eyes away from his mother's 
 face. " A man must do his own work." 
 
 His voice was quiet and resolute, and glancing at 
 the beautiful face at the end of the table, I saw in 
 the pale lips and yearning eyes that the mother 
 was offering up her first-born, that ancient saci-i- 
 lice. But not all the agony of sacrifice could 
 wring from her entreaty or complaint in the hear- 
 ing of her sons. That was for other ears and for 
 the silent hours of the night. And next morning 
 when she came down to meet us her face was wan 
 and weary, but it wore the peace of victory and a 
 glory not of earth. Her greeting was full of dig- 
 nity, sweet and gentle ; but when she came to 
 Graeme she lingered over him and kissed him 
 twice. And that was all that any of us ever saw 
 of that sore fight. 
 
 At the end of the week I took leave of them, 
 and last of all of the mother. 
 
 She hesitated just a moment, then suddenly 
 put her hands upon my shoulders and kissed me, 
 saying softly : 
 
 " You are his friend. You will sometimes come 
 to me ? " 
 
 " Gladly, if I may," I hastened to answer, for 
 the sweet, brave face w^as too much to bear; and 
 till she left us for that world of which she was a
 
 248 Black Rock. 
 
 part I kept my Avord, to my own great and lasting 
 good. When Graeme met me in the city at the 
 end of the summer he brought me her love, and 
 then burst forth : 
 
 " Connor, do you know, I have just discovered 
 my mother ! I have never known her till this 
 summer." 
 
 " More fool you," I answered, for often had I, 
 who had never known a mother, envied him his. 
 
 " Yes, that is true," he answered slowly ; " but 
 you cannot see until you have eyes." 
 
 Before he set out again for the "West I gave 
 him a supper, asking the men who had been with 
 us in the old 'varsity days. I was doubtful as to 
 the wisdom of this, and was persuaded only by 
 Graeme's eager assent to my proposal. 
 
 " Certainly, let's have them," he said. " I shall 
 be awful glad to see them ; great stuff they 
 were." 
 
 " But, I don't know, Graeme. You see — well 
 — hang it ! — you know — you're different, you 
 know." 
 
 He looked at me curiously. 
 
 " I hope I can still stand a good supper, and if 
 the boys can't stand me, why, I can't help it. I'll 
 do anything but roar, and don't you begin to 
 work off your menagerie act — now, you hear 
 mel"
 
 Black Rock. 249 
 
 " Well, it is rather hard lines that when I have 
 been talking up my lion for a year, and then 
 finally secure him, he will not roar." 
 
 " Serve you right," he replied quite heartlessly. 
 « But I'll tell you what Til do— I'll feed ! Don't 
 you worry," he adds soothingly ; " the supper 
 will go." 
 
 And go it did. The supper was of the best , 
 the wines first class. I had asked Graeme about 
 the wines. 
 
 " Do as you like, old man," was his answer. 
 " It's your supper, but," he added, " are the men 
 all straight ? " 
 
 I ran them over in my mind. 
 
 " Yes ; I think so." 
 
 " If not, don't you help them down ; and any- 
 way, you can't be too careful. But don't mind 
 me. I am quit of the whole business from this 
 out." 
 
 So I ventured wines, for the last time, as it 
 happened. 
 
 We were a quaint combination. Old " Beetles," 
 whose nickname was prophetic of his future fame 
 as a bugman, as the fellows irreverently said; 
 " Stumpy " Smith, a demon bowler ; Polly Lind- 
 say, slow as ever and as sure as when he held the 
 half-back line with Graeme, and used to make my 
 heart stand still with terror at his cool dclibera
 
 250 Black Rock. 
 
 tion. But he was never known to fumble nor to 
 funk, and somehow he always got us out safe 
 enough. Then there was Eattray — " Eat " for 
 short — who, from a swell, had developed into a 
 cynic with a sneer, awfully clever and a good 
 enough fellow at heart. Little " Wig " Martin, 
 the sharpest quarter ever seen, and big Barney 
 Lundy, center scrimmage, whose terrific roar and 
 rush had often struck terror to the enemy's heart, 
 and who was Graeme's slave. Such was the 
 party. 
 
 As the supper went on my fears began to 
 vanish, for if Graeme did not " roar " he did the 
 next best thing — ate and talked quite up to his old 
 form. !Now we played our matches over again, 
 bitterly lamenting the " ifs" that had lost us the 
 championships, and wildly approving the tackles 
 that had saved, and the runs that had made the 
 'varsity crowd go mad with delight and had won 
 for us. And as their names came up in talk we 
 learned how life had gone with those who had 
 been our comrades of ten years ago. Some success 
 had lifted to high places ; some failure had left 
 upon the rocks ; and a few lay in their graves. 
 
 But as the evening went on I began to wish 
 that I had left out the wines, for the men began 
 to drop an occasional oath, though I had let them 
 know during the summer that Graeme was not
 
 Black Rock. 251 
 
 the man he had been. But Graeme smoked and 
 talked and heeded not, till Rattray swore by that 
 name most sacred of all ever borne by man. 
 Then Graeme opened upon him in a cool, slow 
 way: 
 
 " What an awful fool a man is to damn thinsrs 
 as you do, Rat. Things are not damned. It is 
 men who are ; and that is too bad to be talked 
 much about. But when a man flings out of his 
 f(iul mouth the name of Jesus Christ " — here he 
 lowered his voice — " it's a shame — it's more, it's 
 
 a crime." 
 
 There was dead silence, then Rattray replied : 
 
 " 1 suppose you're right enough, it is bad form ; 
 but crime is rather strong, I think." 
 
 " Not if you consider who it is," said Graeme 
 with emphasis. 
 
 " Oh, come now," broke in Beetles. " Religion 
 is all right, is a good thing, and I believe a neces. 
 sary thing for the race, but no one takes seriously 
 any longer the Christ myth." 
 
 " What about your mother, Beetles ? " put in 
 Wig Martin. 
 
 Beetles consigned him to the pit and was silent, 
 for his father was an Episcopal clergyman and 
 his mother a saintly woman. 
 
 " I fooled with that for some time, Beetles, but 
 it won't do. You can't build a religion that will
 
 25^ Black Rock. 
 
 take the devil out of a man on a myth. That 
 won't do the trick. I don't want to argue about 
 it, but I am quite convinced the myth theory is 
 not reasonable, and, besides, it won't work." 
 
 " "Will the other work ? " asked Eattray with 
 a sneer. 
 
 " Sure ! " said Graeme. " I've seen it.'* 
 
 " Where ? " challenged Rattray. " I haven't 
 seen much of it." 
 
 " Yes, you have, Rattray, you know you have," 
 said Wig again. 
 
 But Rattray ignored him. 
 
 " I'll tell you, boys," said Graeme. " I want 
 you to know, anyway, why I believe what I do." 
 
 Then he told them the story of old man Nelson, 
 from the old coast days, before I knew him, to 
 the end. He told the story well. The stern 
 fight, and the victory of the life, and the self, 
 sacrifice, and the pathos of the death appeal to 
 these men, who loved fight and could understand 
 sacrifice, 
 
 " That's why I believe in Jesus Christ, and 
 that's why I think it a crime to fling His name 
 about 1 " 
 
 "I wish to heaven I could say that," said 
 Beetles. 
 
 " Keep wishing hard enough and it will come 
 to you," said Graeme.
 
 Black Rock. 253 
 
 " Look here, old chap," said Rattray, "you're 
 quite right about this ; rm willing to own up. 
 Wig is correct. I know a few, at least, of that 
 stamp, but most of those who go in for that sort 
 of thing are not much account." 
 
 " For ten years, Rattray," said Graeme in a 
 downright, matter-of-fact way, " you and I have 
 tried this sort of thing " — tapping a bottle — " ana 
 we got out of it all there is to be got, paid well 
 for it, too, and — faugh ! you know it's not good 
 enough, and the more you go in for it the more 
 you curse yourself. So I have quit this and I am 
 going in for the other." 
 
 " What ! going in for preaching? " 
 
 " Not much — railroadino: — monev in it — and 
 lending a hand to fellows on the rocks." 
 
 " I say, don't you want a center forward ? " 
 said big Barney in his deep voice. 
 
 " Every man must play his game in his place, 
 old chap. I'd like to see you tackle it, though, 
 right well," said Graeme earnestly. 
 
 And so he did, in the after years, and good 
 tackling it was. But that is another story. 
 
 " But I sa\% Graeme," persisted Beetles, " about 
 this business. Do you mean to say you go the 
 whole thing — Jonah, you know, and the rest of 
 it?" 
 
 Graeme hesitated, then said :
 
 254 Black Rock. 
 
 " I haven't much of a creed, Beetles 5 don't 
 really know how much I believe. But," by this 
 time he was standing, " I do know that good is 
 good and bad is bad, and good and bad are not the 
 same. And I know a man's a fool to follow the one 
 and a wise man to follow the other, and," lower- 
 ing his voice, " I believe God is at the back of a 
 man who \\'ants to get done with bad. I've tried 
 all that folly," sweeping his hand over the glasses 
 and bottles, " and all that goes with it, and I've 
 done with it." 
 
 " I'll go you that far," roared big Barney, 
 following his old captain as of yore. 
 
 " Good man," said Graeme, striking hands with 
 him. 
 
 " Put me down," said little "Wig cheerfully. 
 
 Then 1 took up the word, for there rose before 
 me the scene in the league saloon, and I saw the 
 beautiful face with the deep shining eyes, and I 
 was speaking for her again. I told them of Craig 
 and his fight for these men's lives. I told them, 
 too, of how I had been too indolent to begin. 
 
 "But," I said, "I am going this far from to- 
 night," and I swept the bottles into the cham- 
 pagne tub. 
 
 " I say," said Polly Lindsay, coming up in liis 
 old style, slow but sure, '' let's ail go in, say for 
 five years."
 
 Black Rock 255 
 
 And so we did. We didn't sign anything, but 
 every iruin shook hands with Graeme. 
 
 And as I told Craig about this a year later, 
 when he was on his way back from his old-land 
 trip to join Graeme in the mountains, he threw 
 up his head in the old way and said, " It was weL 
 done. It must have been worth seeins:. Old man 
 Nelson's work is not done yet. Tell me again," 
 and he made me go over the whole scene with all 
 the details put in. 
 
 But when I told Mrs. Mavor, after two years 
 had gone, she only said, " Old things are passed 
 away, all things are become new ; " but the light 
 glowed in her eyes till I could not see their color. 
 But all that, too, is another story.
 
 256 Black Rock. 
 
 CHAPTEE XY. 
 
 COMING TO THEIR OWN. 
 
 A MAN with a conscience is often provoking, 
 sometimes impossible. Persuasion is lost upon 
 him. He will not get angry, and he looks at one 
 with such a faraway expression in his face that 
 in striving to persuade him one feels earthly and 
 even fiendish. At least this was my experience 
 with Craig. He spent a week with me just before 
 he sailed for the old land, for the purpose, as he 
 said, of getting some of the coal dust and other 
 grime out of him. 
 
 He made me angry the last night of his stay, 
 rmd all the more that he remained quite sweetly 
 unmoved. It was a strategic mistake of mine to 
 tell him how Nelson came home to us, and how 
 Graeme stood up before 'varsity chaps at my sup- 
 per and made his confession and confused Pat- 
 tray's easy-stepping profanity, and started his 
 own five-year league. For all this stirred in Craig 
 the hero, and he was ready for all sorts of heroic 
 nonsense, as I called it. We talked of every-
 
 Black Rock. 257 
 
 tiling but tlie one thing, and about that we said 
 Dot a word till, bending low to poke my lire and 
 to hide my face, I plunged : 
 
 " You will see her, of course ? " 
 
 He made no pretense of not understanding, but 
 answered : 
 
 " Of course." 
 
 " There's really no sense in her staying over 
 there," I suggested. 
 
 " And yet she is a wise woman," he said, as if 
 carefully considering the question. 
 
 "Heaps of landlords never see their tenants, 
 and they are none the worse." 
 
 " The landlords ? " 
 
 " No — the tenants." 
 
 " Probably, having such landlords." 
 
 " And as for the old lady, there must be some 
 one in the connection to whom it would be a 
 Godsend to care for her." 
 
 " Now, Connor," he said quietly, " don't. We 
 have gone over all there is to be said. Nothing 
 new has come. Don't turn it all up again." 
 
 Then I played the heathen and raged, as 
 Graeme would have said, till Craig smiled a little 
 wearily and said : 
 
 " You exhaust yourself, old chap. Have a pipe, 
 do ; " and after a pause lie added in his own way .• 
 "What v.oiild rod have? TJie paili lies scraigU
 
 258 Black Rock. 
 
 from ray feet. Should I quit it ? I could not so 
 disappoint you — and all of them." 
 
 And I knew he was thinking of Graeme and 
 the lads in the mountains he had taught to be true 
 men. It did not help my rage, but it checked my 
 speech ; so I smoked in silence till he was moved 
 to say : 
 
 " And after all, you know, old chap, there are 
 great compensations for all losses ; but for the loss 
 of a good conscience toward God, what can make 
 up?" 
 
 But, all the same, I hoped for some better re- 
 sult from his visit to Britain. It seemed to me 
 that something must turn up to change such an 
 unbearable situation. 
 
 The year passed, however, and when I looked 
 into Craifir's face again I knew that nothing had 
 been changed, and that he had come back to take 
 up again his life alone, more resolutely hopeful 
 than ever. 
 
 But the year had left its mark upon him, too. 
 He was a broader and deeper man. He had been 
 livins: and thinkino- with men of larger ideas and 
 richer culture, and he was far too quick in sym- 
 pathy with life to remain untouched by his sur- 
 roundings, lie was more tolerant of opinions 
 other than his own, but more unrelenting in his 
 fidelity to conscience and more impatient of half-
 
 Black Rock. 259 
 
 heartedness and self-indulgence. He was full of 
 reverence for the great scholars and the great 
 leaders of men he had come to know. 
 
 " Great, nol)le fellows they are, and extraor- 
 dinarily modest," he said — " that is, the really 
 great are modest. There are plenty of the other 
 sort, neither great nor modest. And the books 
 to be read ! I am quite hopeless about my read- 
 ing. It gave me a queer sensation to shake hands 
 with a man who had written a great book. To 
 hear him make commonplace remarks, to witness 
 a faltering in knowledge — one expects these men 
 to know everything — and to experience respect- 
 ful kindness at his hands ! " 
 
 " What of the younger men ? " I asked. 
 
 " Bright, keen, generous fellows. In things 
 theoretical, omniscient ; but in things practical, 
 quite helpless. They toss about great ideas as 
 the miners lumps of coal. They can call them by 
 their book names easily enough, but I often won- 
 dered whether they could put them into Englisli. 
 Some of them I coveted for the mountains. Men 
 with clear heads and big hearts, and built after 
 Sandy M'Naughton's model. It does seem a sin- 
 ful waste of God's good human stuff to see these 
 fellows potter away their lives among theories 
 living and dead and end up by producing a book ! 
 They are all either making or going to make a,
 
 26o Black Rock. 
 
 book. A good thing we haven't to read them. 
 But here and there among them is some quiet 
 chap who will make a book that men will tumble 
 over each other to read." 
 
 Then we paused and looked at each other. 
 
 « Well ? " I said. 
 
 He understood me. 
 
 " Yes ! " he answered slowly, " doing great 
 work. Every one worships her just as we do, and 
 she is making them all do something worth while, 
 as she used to make us." 
 
 He spoke cheerfully and readily, as if he were 
 repeating a lesson well learned, but he could not 
 humbug me. I felt the heartache in the cheerful 
 tone. 
 
 " Tell me about her," I said, for I knew that if 
 he would talk it would do him good. And talk 
 he did, often forgetting me, till, as I listened, I 
 found mvself looking again into the fathomless 
 eyes and hearing again the heart-searching voice. 
 I saw her go in and out of the little red-tiled cot- 
 tages and down the narrow back lanes of the vil- 
 lage ; I heard her voice in a sweet, low song by 
 the bed of a dying child, or pouring forth floods 
 of music in the great new hall of the factory town 
 near by. But I could not see, though he tried to 
 show me, the stately, gracious lady receiving the 
 country folk in her home. He did not linger over
 
 Black Rock. 261 
 
 that scene, but went back again to the gate cot- 
 tage where she had taken him one day to see 
 Billy Breen's mother. 
 
 " I found the old woman knew all about me," 
 he said simply enough, " but there were many 
 things about Billy she had never lieard, and I was 
 glad to put her right on some points, though Mrs. 
 Mavor would not hear it." 
 
 He sat silent for a little, looking into the coals ; 
 then went on in a soft, quiet voice : 
 
 '' It brought back the mountains and the old 
 days to hear again Billy's tones in his mother's 
 voice and to see her sitting there in the very 
 dress she wore the night of the league, you re- 
 member — some soft stuff with black lace about 
 it — and to hear her sing as she did for Billy— ah ! 
 ah!" 
 
 His voice unexpectedly broke, but in a moment 
 he was master of himself and begged me to for- 
 give his weakness. I am afraid I said words that 
 should not be said— a thing I never do, except 
 when suddenly and utterly upset. 
 
 " I am getting selfish and weak," he said. " I 
 must get to work. I am glad to get to work. 
 There is much to do, and it is worth while, 
 if only to keep one from getting useless and 
 lazy," 
 
 " Useless and lazy ! " I said to myself, thinking
 
 262 Black Rock. 
 
 of my life beside his and tnnng to get command 
 of my voice, so as not to make quite a fool of my- 
 self. And for many a day those words goaded 
 me to work and to the exercise of some mild self- 
 denial But more than all else, after Craig had 
 gone back to the mountains, Graeme's letters from 
 the railroad construction camp stirred one to do 
 unpleasant duty long postponed and rendered 
 uncomfortable my hours of most luxurious ease. 
 Many of the old gang were with him, both of 
 lumbermen and miners, and Craig was their 
 minister. And the letters told of how he labored 
 by day and by night along the line of construction, 
 carrying his tent and kit with him, preaching 
 straight sermons, watching by sick men, writing 
 their letters, and winning their hearts, making 
 strong their lives, and helping them to die well 
 when their hour came. One day these letters 
 proved too much for me, and I ]mcked away my 
 paints and brushes and made my vow unto the 
 Lord that I would be " useless and lazy " no 
 longer, but w^ould do something with myself. 
 In consequence, I found myself within three 
 weeks walking the London hospitals, finishing my 
 course, that I might join that band of men who 
 were doing something with life, or, if throwing it 
 away, were not losing it for nothing. I had 
 finished being a fool. I hoped, at least a fool of
 
 Black Rock. 263 
 
 the useless and luxurious kind. The letter that 
 came from Graeme, in reply to my request for a 
 position on his staif, was characteristic of the 
 man, both new and old, full of gayest humor and 
 of most earnest welcome to the work. 
 Mrs. Mayor's reply was like herself : 
 " I knew 3'ou would not long be content with 
 the making of pictures, which the world does not 
 really need, and would join your friends in the 
 dear West, making lives that the world needs so 
 sorely." 
 
 But her last words touched me strangely : 
 "But be sure to be thankful every day for 
 your privilege. ... It will be good to think of 
 3'ou all, with the glorious mountains about you, 
 and Christ's own work in your hands. . . . Ah ! 
 how we would like to choose our work and the 
 place in which to do it ! " 
 
 The longing did not appear in the words, but 
 I needed no words to tell me how deep and how 
 constant it was. And I take some credit to my- 
 self that in my reply I gave her no bidding to 
 join our band, but rather praised the work she 
 was doing in her place, telling her how I had 
 heard of it from Craig. 
 
 The summer found me religiously doing Paris 
 and Vienna, gaining a more perfect acqui'.ir.^ince 
 with the extent and variety of my own iguo-
 
 264 Black Rock. 
 
 ranee, and so fully occupied in this interesting and 
 wholesome occupation that I fell out with all 
 my cjrrespondentSj with the result of weeks of 
 silence between us. 
 
 Two letters among the heap waiting on my 
 table in London made my heart beat quick, but 
 with how different feelings : one from Graeme 
 telling me that Craig had been very ill and that 
 he was to take him home as soon as he could be 
 moved. Mrs. Mavor's letter told me of the death 
 of the old lady who had been her care for the past 
 two years, and of her intention to spend some 
 months in her old home in Edinburgh. And this 
 letter it is that accounts for my presence in a 
 miserable, ding}^, dirty little hall running off a 
 close in the historic Cowgate, redolent of the 
 glories of the splendid past and of the various 
 odors of the evil-smelling present. I was there to 
 hear Mrs. Mavor sing to the crowd of gamins 
 that thronged the closes in the neighborhood and 
 that had been gathered into a club by " a fine 
 leddie frae the West End," for the love of Christ 
 and His lost. This was an " at home " night, and 
 the mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, of 
 all ages and sizes, were present. Of all the sad 
 faces I had ever seen, those mothers carried the 
 saddest and most wo-stricken. " Heaven pity 
 us ! " I found myself saying. " Is this the beau-
 
 Black Rock, 265 
 
 tiful, the cultured, the heaven-exalted city of 
 Edinburgh ? Will it not for this be cast down to 
 hell some day if it repent not of its closes and 
 their dens of defilement ? Oh ! the utter weari- 
 ness, the dazed hopelessness of the ghastly faces! 
 Do not the kindly, gentle church-going folk of 
 the crescents and the gardens see them in theii 
 dreams, or are their dreams too heavenly for these 
 ghastly faces to appear ? " 
 
 I cannot recall the program of the evening, 
 but in my memory gallery is a vivid picture of 
 that face, sweet, sad, beautiful, alight with the 
 deep glow of her eyes as she stood and sang to 
 that dingy crowd. As I sat upon the window- 
 ledge listening to the voice with its flowing song, 
 my thoughts were far away, and I was looking 
 down once more upon the eager, coal-grimed 
 faces in the rude little church in Black Eock. I 
 was brought back to find myself swallowing hard 
 by an audible whisper from a wee lassie to her 
 mother : 
 
 " Mither ! See till yon man. He's greetin'." 
 "When I came to myself she was singing " The 
 Land o' the Leal," the Scotch "Jerusalem the 
 Golden," immortal, perfect. It needed experi- 
 ence of the hunger-haunted Cowgate closes, chill 
 with the black mist of an eastern haar, to feel 
 the full bliss of the vision in the words —
 
 266 Black Rock. 
 
 " There's nae sorrow there, Jean, 
 There's neither cauld nor care, Jean, 
 The day is aye fair in 
 The Land o' the Leal." 
 
 A land of fair, warm days, uniouclied by sorrow 
 and care, would be heaven indeed to the dwellers 
 of the Cowgate. 
 
 The rest of that evening is hazy enough to me 
 now, till I find myself opposite Mrs. Mavor at 
 her fire, reading Graeme's letters ; then all is 
 vivid again. 
 
 I could not keep the truth from her. I knew 
 it would be folly to try. So I read straight on till 
 I came to the words : 
 
 " He has had mountain fever, whatever that 
 may be, and he will not pull up again. If I can 
 I shall take him home to my mother " — when she 
 suddenly stretched out her hand, saying, " Oh, 
 let me read ! " and I gave her the letter. In a 
 minute she had read it and began almost breath- 
 lessly : 
 
 " Listen ! My life is much changed. My 
 mother-in-law is gone ; she needs me no longer. 
 My solicitor tells me, too, that owing to unfor- 
 tunate investments there is need of money, so great 
 need that it is possible that either the estates or 
 the works must go. My cousin has his all in 
 the works — iron works, you know. It would be
 
 Black Rock. 267 
 
 wrong to have him suffer. I shall give up the 
 estates — that is the best." 
 
 She paused. 
 
 " And come with me ! " I cried. 
 
 " When do you sail ? " 
 
 " Next week/' I answered eagerly. 
 
 She looked at me a few moments, and into her 
 eyes there came a light soft and tender as she 
 said : 
 
 " I shall go with you." 
 
 And so she did ; and no old Roman in all the 
 glory of a triumph carried a prouder heart than 
 I as I bore her and her little one from the train 
 to Graeme's carriage, crying : 
 
 " I've got her ! " 
 
 But his was the better sense, for he stood 
 waving his hat and shouting, " He's all right," at 
 which Mrs. Mavor grew white ; but when she 
 shook hands with him the red was in her cheek 
 again. 
 
 " It was the cable did it," went on Graeme. 
 " Connor's a great doctor! Ilis first case will 
 make him famous. Good prescription — after 
 mountain fever tr}"- a cablegram ! " 
 
 And the red grew deeper in the beautiful face 
 beside us. 
 
 Never did the country look so lovely. The 
 woods were in their gayest autumn dress ; the
 
 268 Black Rock 
 
 brown fields were bathed in a purple haze ; the 
 air was sweet and fresh with a suspicion of the 
 coming frosts of Avinter. But in spite of all 
 the road seemed long, and it was as if hours had 
 gone before our eyes fell upon the white manse 
 standing among the golden leaves. 
 
 " Let them go ! " I cried as Graeme paused to 
 take in the view, and down the sloping dusty road 
 we flew on the dead run. 
 
 "Keminds one a little of Abe's curves," said 
 Graeme as we drew up at the gate. But I an- 
 swered him not, for I was introducing to each 
 other the two best women in the world. As I 
 was about to rush into the house Graeme seized 
 me by the collar, saying : 
 
 "Hold on, Connor! You forget your place. 
 You're next." 
 
 " Why, certainly," I cried, thankfully enough. 
 " "What an ass I am ! " 
 
 " Quite true," said Graeme solemnly. 
 
 " Where is he ? " I asked. 
 
 " At this present moment ? " he asked in a 
 shocked voice. " Why, Connor, you surprise me." 
 
 " Oh, I see." 
 
 " Yes," he went on gravely, " you may trust 
 my mother to be discreetly attending to her 
 domestic duties. She Is a great woman, my 
 mother."
 
 Black Rock. 269 
 
 I had no doubt of it, for at that moment she 
 came out to us with little Marjorie in her arms. 
 
 " Yes," he went on gravely, " ^^ou may trust 
 my mother, I hope," said Graeme ; but she only 
 smiled and said : 
 
 " Run away with your horses, you silly boj'," 
 at which he solemnly shook his head. 
 
 " Ah, mother, you are deep — who would have 
 thought it of you?" 
 
 That evening the manse overflowed with joy, 
 and the days that followed were like dreams set 
 to sweet music. 
 
 But for sheer wild delight, nothing in my 
 memory can quite come up to the demonstration 
 organized by Graeme, with assistance from Nixon, 
 Shaw, Sandy, Abe, Geordie, and Baptiste, in 
 honor of the arrival in camp of Mr. and Mrs. 
 Craig. And, in my opinion, it added something to 
 the occasion that after all the cheers for Mr. and 
 Mrs. Craig had died away, and after all the hats 
 had come down, Baptiste, who had never taken 
 his eyes from that radiant face, should suddenly 
 have swept the crowd into a perfect storm of 
 cheers by excitedly seizing his toque and calling 
 out in his shrill voice : 
 
 " By gar ! tree cheer for Mrs. Mavor ! " 
 
 And for many a day the men of Black Rock | 
 would easily fall into the old and well-ioved
 
 270 Black Rock. 
 
 name ; but up and down the line of construction, 
 in all the camps beyond the Great Divide, the 
 new name became as dear as the old had ever 
 been in Black Kock. 
 
 Those old wild days are long since gone into 
 the dim distance of the past. They will not 
 come again, for we have fallen into quiet times ; 
 but often in my quietest hours I feel my heart 
 pause in its beat to hear again that strong, clear 
 voice, like the sound of a trumpet, bidding us 
 to be men ; and I think of them all — Graeme, 
 their chief, Sandy, Baptiste, Geordie, Abe, the 
 Campbells, Nixon, Shaw, all stronger, better for 
 their knowing of him, and then I think of Billy 
 asleep under the pines, and of old man Nelson 
 with the long grass waving over him in the quiet 
 churchyard, and all my nonsense leaves me, and 
 I bless the Lord for all His benefits, but chiefly 
 for the day I met the missionary of Black Rock 
 in the lumber camp among the Selkirks.
 
 Ethan Brand 271 
 
 ETHAiq- BRAND. 
 
 Baeteam^ the lime-burner, a rough, heavy- 
 looking man, begrimed with charcoal, sat watching 
 his kiln at nightfall, while his little son played 
 at building houses with the scattered fragments of 
 marble, when, on the hill-side below them, they 
 heard a roar of laughter, not mirthful, but slow 
 and even solemn, like a wind shaking the boughs 
 of the forest 
 
 " Father, what is that ? " asked the little boy, 
 leaving his play and pressing betwixt his father'3 
 kne^. 
 
 " Oh, some drunken man, I suppose," answered 
 the lime-burner ; " some merry fellow from the 
 bar-room in the village, who dared not laugh loud 
 enough within doors, lest he should blow the roof 
 of the house off. So here he is, shaking his jolly 
 sides at the foot of Graylock." 
 
 " But, father," said the child, more sensitive 
 than the obtuse, middle-aged clown, " he does not
 
 272 Black Rock. 
 
 laiigli like a man tliat is glad. So the noise fright- 
 ens me! " 
 
 " Don't be a fool, child ! " cried the father 
 gruffly. " You will never make a man, I do be- 
 lieve : there is too much of jour mother in you. I 
 have known the rustling of a leaf to startle you ! 
 Hark! Here comes the merry fellow now. You 
 shall see that there is no harm in him." 
 
 Bartram and his little son, while they were 
 talking thus, sat watching the same lime-kiln that 
 had been the scene of Ethan Brand's solitary and 
 meditative life before he began his search for the 
 Unpardonable Sin. Many years, as we have seen, 
 had now elapsed since that portentous night when 
 the Idea was first developed. The kiln, however, 
 on the mountain-side stood unimpaired, and was 
 in nothing changed since he had thrown his dark 
 thoughts into the intense glow of its furnace, and 
 melted them, as it were, into the one thought that 
 took possession of his life. It was a rude, round, 
 tower-like structure, about twenty feet high, heav- 
 ily built of rough stones, and with a hillock of earth 
 heaped about the larger part of its circumference, 
 so that the blocks and fragments of marble might 
 be drawn by cart-loads and thrown in at the top. 
 There was an opening at the bottom of the tower,
 
 Ethan Brand. 273 
 
 lite an oven-moutli, but large enougli to admit a 
 man in a stooping posture, and provided with a 
 massive iron door. With the smoke and jets of 
 flame issuing from the chinks and crevices of this 
 door, which seemed to give admittance intx) the 
 hill-side, it resembled nothing so much as the pri- 
 vate entrance to the infernal regions which the 
 shepherds of the Delectable Mountains were ac- 
 customed to show to pilgrims. 
 
 There are many such lime-kilns in that tract of 
 country for the purpose of burning the white 
 marble which composes a large part of the sub- 
 stance of the hills. Some of them, built years ago 
 and long deserted, with weeds growing in the va- 
 cant round of the interior, which is open to the 
 sky, and grass and wild flowers rooting themselves 
 into the chinks of the stones, look already like 
 relics of antiquity, and may yet be overspread with 
 the lichens of centuries to come. Others, where 
 the lime-burner still feeds his daily and night- 
 long fire, afford points of interest to the wanderer 
 among the hills, who seats himself on a log of 
 wood or a fragment of marble to hold a chat with 
 the solitarv man. It is a lonesome and, when the 
 character is inclined to thought, may l>e an in- 
 tensely thoughtful occupation, as it provetl in 
 18
 
 274 Black Rock. 
 
 the case of Ethan Brand, who had mused to sncfi 
 strange purpose in days gone by Avhile the fire in 
 this very kiln was burning. 
 
 The man who now watched the fire was of a 
 different order, and troubled himself with no 
 thoughts save the very few that were requisite to 
 his business. At frequent intervals he flung back 
 the clashing weight of the iron door, and, turning 
 his face from the insufferable glare, thrust in huge 
 logs of oak or stirred the immense brands with a 
 long pole. Within the furnace were seen the curl- 
 ing and riotous flames and the burning marble, 
 almost molten with the intensity of heat, while 
 without the reflection of the fire quivered on the 
 dark intricacy of the surrounding forest, and 
 showed in the foreground a bright and ruddy little 
 picture of the hut, the spring beside its door, the 
 athletic and coal-begrimed figure of the lime- 
 burner, and the half-frightened child shrinking 
 into the protection of his father's shadow. And 
 when again the iron door was closed, then reap- 
 peared the tender light of the half-full moon, 
 which vainly strove to trace out the indiscinct 
 shapes ^f the neighboring mountains; and in the 
 ^■^rper sky there was a flitting congregation of 
 clouds, still faintly tinged with the rosy sunset,
 
 Kthan Brand. 275 
 
 tlioiigli thus far down into the valley tihe sun- 
 shine Lad vanished long and long ago. 
 
 The little boy now crept still closer to his 
 father as footsteps were heard ascending tke liill- 
 side, and a human fonn thrust aside the busbes 
 that clustered beneath the trees. 
 
 " Halloo ! who is it ? " cried the liiue-buiiier, 
 vexed at his son's timidity, yet half infected by 
 it. " Come forward and show yourself like a man, 
 or I'll fling this chunk of marble at your head." 
 
 " You offer me a rough welcome," said a 
 gloomy voice as the unknown man drew nigh. 
 " Yet I neither claim nor desire a kinder one, even 
 at my own fireside." 
 
 To obtain a distincter view Bartram threw 
 open the iron door of the kiln, whence immedi- 
 ately issued a gush of fierce light that smote 
 full upon the stranger's face and figure. To a 
 careless eye there appeared nothing very remark- 
 able in his aspect, which was that of a man in a 
 coarse brown country -made suit of clothes, tall 
 and thin, with the staff and heavy shoes of a way- 
 farer. As he advanced he fixed his eyes, which 
 were very bright, intently upon the brightness of 
 the furnace, as if he beheld, or expected to behold, 
 some object worthy of note-within it.
 
 276 Black Rock. 
 
 " Good-evening, stranger," said the lime- 
 burner ; " whence come you so late in tlie day ? " 
 
 " I come from my search," answered the way- 
 farer; "for, at last, it is finished." 
 
 " Drunk ! — or crazy ! " muttered Bartram to 
 himself. " I shall have trouble with the fellow. 
 The sooner I drive him away the better." 
 
 The little boy, all in a tremble, whispe^red to his 
 father and begged him to shut the door of the 
 kiln, so that there might not be so much light, for 
 that there was something in the man's face which 
 he was afraid to look at, yet could not look away 
 from. And, indeed, even the lime-burner's dull 
 and torpid sense began to be impressed by an in- 
 describable something in that thin, rugged, 
 thoughtful visage with the grizzled hair hanging 
 wildly about it, and those deeply-sunken eyes 
 which gleamed like fires within the entrance of a 
 mysterious cavern. But as he closed the door 
 the stranger turned toward him and spoke in a 
 quiet, familiar way that made Bartram feel as if 
 he were a sane and sensible man after all. 
 
 " Your task draws to an end, I see," said he. 
 " This marble bas already been burning three 
 days. A few hours more will convert the stone 
 to lime."
 
 Ethan Brand. 277 
 
 " Why, who are jou ? " exclaimed the liiiie- 
 bumer. " You seem as well acquainted with my 
 business as I am myself." 
 
 " And well I may be," said the stranger, " for 
 I followed the same craft many a long year, and 
 here, too, on this very spot. But you are a new- 
 comer in these parts. Did you never hear of 
 Ethan Brand ? " 
 
 " The man that went in searcli of tlie Unpar- 
 donable Sin ? " asked Bartram with a laugh. 
 
 " The same," answered the stranger. " He has 
 found what he sought, and therefore he comes 
 back again." 
 
 " "What ! then you are Ethan Brand himself ? " 
 cried the lime-burner in amazement. " I am a 
 newcomer here, as you say, and they call it eight- 
 een years since you left the foot of Graylock. 
 But, I can tell you, the good folks still talk about 
 Ethan Brand in the village yonder, and wliat a 
 strange errand took him away from his lime-kiln. 
 Well, and so you have found the Unpardonable 
 Sin?" 
 
 " Even so," said the stranger, calmly. 
 
 " If the question is a fair one," proceeded Bar- 
 tram, " where might it be ? " 
 
 Ethan Brand laid his finger on his own heart
 
 278 Black Rock. 
 
 " Here ! " replied he. 
 
 And tlien, witliout mirth in his countenance, 
 but as if moved by an involuntary recognition of 
 the infinite absurdity of seeking throughout the 
 world for what was the closest of all things to 
 himself, and looking into every heart save his own 
 for what was hidden in no other breast, he broke 
 into a laugh of scorn. It was the same slow, 
 heavy laugh that had almost appalled the lime- 
 burner when it heralded the wayfarer's approach. 
 
 The solitary mountain-side was made dismal by 
 it. Laughter, when out of place, mistimed, or 
 bursting forth from a disordered state of feeling, 
 may be the most terrible modulation of the human 
 voice. The laughter of one asleep, even if it be 
 a little child, the madman's langh, the wild, 
 screaming laugh of a born idiot, are sounds tliat 
 we sometimes tremble to hear and would always 
 willingly forget. Poets have imagined no utter- 
 ance of fiends or hobgoblins so fearfully appropri- 
 ate as a laugh. And even the obtuse lime-burner 
 felt his nerves shaken as this strange man looked 
 inward at his own. heart and burst into laughter 
 that rolled away into the night and was indis- 
 tinctly reverberated among the hills. 
 
 " Joe," said he to his little son, " scamper
 
 Ethan Brand. 279 
 
 down to the tavern in the village, and tell the 
 jolly fellows there that Ethan Brand has come 
 back, and that he has found the Unpardonable 
 Sin." 
 
 The boy darted away on his errand, to which 
 Ethan Brand made no objection, nor seemed 
 hardly to notice it. He sat on a log of wood, 
 looking steadfastly at the iron door of the kiln. 
 When the child was out of sight, and his swift 
 and light footsteps ceased to be heard treading 
 first on the fallen leaves and then on the rocky 
 mountain-path, the lime-burner began to regret 
 his departure. He felt that the little fellow's 
 presence had been a barrier between his guest and 
 himself, and that he must now deal, lieart to heart, 
 with a man who, on his own confession, had com- 
 mitted the one only crime for which Heaven could 
 afford no mercy. That crime, in its indistinct 
 blackness, seemed to overshadow him. The lime- 
 burner's own sins rose up within him, and made 
 his memory riotous with a throng of evil shapes 
 that asserted their kindred with the Master Sin, 
 whatever it might be, which it was within the 
 scope of man's corrupted nature to conceive and 
 cherish. They were all of one family ; they went 
 to and fro between his breast and Ethan Brand's, 
 and carried dark greetings from one to the other.
 
 28o Black Rock. 
 
 Then Bartram remembered the stories which 
 had grown traditionary in reference to this strange 
 man who had come upon him like a shadow of the 
 night, and was making himself at home in his old 
 place after so long absence that the dead people, 
 dead and buried for years, would have had more 
 right to be at home in any familiar spot than he. 
 Ethan Brand, it was said, had conversed vnih 
 Satan himself in the lurid blaze of this very kiln. 
 The legend had been matter of mirth heretofore, 
 but looked grisly now. According to this tale, 
 before Ethan Brand departed on his search he had 
 been accustomed to evoke a fiend from the hot fur- 
 nace of the lime-kiln, night after night, in order to 
 confer with him about the Unpardonable Sin, the 
 man and the fiend each laboring to frame the im- 
 age of some mode of guilt which could neither be 
 atoned for nor forgiven. And with the first gleam 
 of light upon the mountain-top the fiend crept in 
 at the iron door, there to abide the intensest ele- 
 ment of fire until again summoned forth to share 
 in the dreadful task of extending man's possible 
 guilt beyond the scope of Heaven's else infinite 
 mercy. 
 
 While the lime-burner was struggling with the 
 horror of these thoughts Ethan Brand rose from
 
 Ethan Brand. 281 
 
 fhe log and flung open the door of the kiln. The 
 action was in such accordance with the idea in 
 Bartram's mind that he almost expected to see tlie 
 Evil One issue forth red hot from the raging fur- 
 nace. 
 
 " Hold ! hold ! " cried he, with a tremulous 
 attempt to laugh, for he was ashamed of his fears, 
 although they overmastered him. " Don't, for 
 mercy's sake, bring out your devil now ! " 
 
 " Man ! " sternly replied Ethan Brand, " what 
 need have I of the devil ? I have left him behind 
 me, on my track. It is with such half-way sinners 
 as you that he busies himself. Fear not because 
 I open the door. I do but act by old custom, and 
 am going to trim your fire, like a lime-burner as 
 I was once." 
 
 He stirred the vast coals, thrust in more wood, 
 and bent forward to gaze into the hollow prison- 
 house of the fire, regardless of the fierce glow that 
 reddened upon his face. The lime-burner sat 
 watching him, and half suspected his strange 
 guest of a purpose, if not to evoke a fiend, at 
 least to plunge bodily into the fiames and thus 
 vanish from the sight of man. Ethan Brand, 
 however, drew quietly back and closed the door of 
 the kiln.
 
 282 Black Rock. 
 
 " I have looked/' said he, " into many a human 
 heart that was seven times hotter with sinful pas- 
 sions than yonder furnace is with fire. But I 
 found not there what I sought. !N^o, not the Un- 
 pardonable Sin ! " 
 
 " What is the Unpardonable Sin ? " asked the 
 lime-burner ; and then he shrank further from his 
 companion, trembling lest his question should be 
 answered. 
 
 " It is a sin that grew within my own breast," 
 replied Ethan Brand, standing erect with a pride 
 that distinguishes all enthusiasts of his stamp. 
 '"' A sin that grew nowhere else ! The sin of an 
 intellect that triumphed over the sense of brother- 
 hood vdth man and reverence for God, and sacri- 
 ficed everything to its own mighty claims! The 
 only sin that deserves a recompense of immortal 
 agony! Freely, were it to do again, would I in- 
 cur the guilt. Unshrinkingly I accept the retri- 
 bution ! " 
 
 " The man's head is turned," muttered the lime- 
 burner to himself. " He may be a sinner like the 
 rest of us — nothing more likely — but, I'll be 
 sworn, he is a madman too." 
 
 ^N'evertheless, he felt uncomfortable at his situ- 
 ation alone with Ethan Brand on the wild moun-
 
 Ethan Brand, 283 
 
 tain-side, and was right glad to liear the rough 
 murmur of tongues and the footsteps of what 
 seemed a pretty numerous party stumbling over 
 the stones and rustling through the underbrush. 
 Soon appeared the whole lazy regiment that was 
 wont to infest the village tavern, comprethending 
 three or four individuals who had drunk flip be- 
 side the bar-room fire through all the winters, and 
 smoked their pipes beneath the stoop through all 
 the summers, since Ethan Brand's departure. 
 Laughing boisterously, and mingling all their 
 voices together in unceremonious talk, they now 
 burst into th.e moonshine and narrow streaks of 
 fire-light that illuminated the open space before 
 the lime-kiln. Bartram set the door ajar again, 
 flooding the spot with light, that the whole com- 
 pany might get a fair view of Ethan Brand, and 
 he of them. 
 
 There, among other old acquaintances, was a 
 once-ubiquitous man, now almost extinct, but 
 whom we were formerly sure to encounter at the 
 hotel of every thriving village throughout the 
 country. It was the stage-agent. The present 
 specimen of the genus was a wilted and smoke- 
 dried man, wrinkled and red-nosed, in a smartly- 
 cut brown bob-tailed coat with brass buttons, who
 
 284 Black Rock. 
 
 for a lengtli of time unknown liad kept his desk 
 and corner in the bar-room, and was still puffing 
 what seemed to he the same cigar that he had 
 lighted twenty years before. lie had great fame 
 as a dry joker, though, perhaps, less on account of 
 any intrinsic humor than from a certain flavor of 
 brandy-toddy and tobacco smoke which impreg- 
 nated all his ideas and expressions, as well as 
 his person. Another well-remembered though 
 strangely-altered face was that of Lawyer Giles, 
 as people still called him in courtesy — an elderly 
 ragamuffin in his soiled shirt-sleeves and tow-cloth 
 trousers. This poor fellow had been an attorney 
 in what he called his better days, a sharp prac- 
 titioner, and in great vogue am-ong the village liti- 
 gants; but flip and sling and toddy and cocktails 
 imbibed at all hours, morning, noon, and night, 
 had caused him to slide from intellectual to va- 
 rious kinds and degrees of bodily labor, till at last, 
 to adopt his own phrase, he slid into a soap-vat. 
 In other words, Giles was now a soap-boiler in a 
 small way. lie had come to be but the fragment 
 of a human being, a part of one foot having been 
 chopped off by an axe, and an entire hand torn 
 away by the devilish grip of a steam-engine. Yet, 
 though the coi-poreal hand waa gone, a spiritual
 
 Ethan Brand. 285 
 
 member remained; for, stretching forth the 
 stump, Giles steadfastly averred that he felt an 
 invisible thumb and fingers with as vivid a sen- 
 sation as before the real ones were amputated. A 
 maimed and miserable wretch he was, but one, 
 nevertheless, whom the world could not trample 
 on, and had no right to scorn, either in this or 
 any previous stage of his misfortunes, since he 
 had still kept up the courage and spirit of a man, 
 asked nothing in charity, and with his one hand — 
 and that the left one — fought a stern battle 
 against want and hostile circumstances. 
 
 Among the throng, too, came another personage, 
 who, with certain points of similarity to Lawyer 
 Giles, had many more of difference. It was the 
 village doctor, a man of some fifty years, whom, 
 at an earlier period of his life, we introduced as 
 paying a professional visit to Ethan Brand, during 
 the latter's supposed insanity. He was now a 
 purple-visaged, rude and brutal, yet half-gentle- 
 manly figure, with something wild, ruined, and 
 desperate in his talk and in all the details of his 
 gesture and manners. Brandy possessed this man 
 like an evil spirit, and made him as surly and sav- 
 age as a wild beast and as miserable as a lost soul ; 
 but there was supposed to be in him such wonder-
 
 286 Black Rock. 
 
 ful skill, such native gifts of healing, beyond any 
 which medical science could impart, that society 
 caught hold of him and would not let him sink 
 out of its reajch. So, swaying to and fro upon his 
 horse and grumbling tliick accents at the bedside, 
 he visited all the sick-chambers for miles about 
 among the mountain-towns, and sometimes raised 
 a dying man, as it were, by miracle, or quite as 
 often, no doubt, sent his patient to a grave that 
 was dug many a year too soon. The doctor had an 
 everlasting pipe in his mouth, and, as somebody 
 said, in allusion to his habit of swearing, it was 
 always alight with hell-fire. 
 
 These three worthies pressed forward and 
 greeted Ethan Brand each after his own fashion, 
 earnestly inviting him to partake of the contents 
 of a certain black bottle, in which, as they averred, 
 he would find something far better worth seeking 
 for than the Unpardonable Sin. I^o mind which 
 has wrought itself by intense and solitary medi- 
 tation into a high state of enthusiasm can endure 
 the kind of contact with low and vulgar modes of 
 thought and feeling to which Ethan Brand was 
 now subjected. It made him doubt — and, strange 
 to say, it was a painful doubt' — whether he had in- 
 deed found the Unpardonable Sin, and foimd it
 
 Ethan Brand. 287 
 
 witLin himself. The whole question on which he 
 had exhausted life, and more than life, looked like 
 a delusion. 
 
 " Leave me," he said bitterly, " ye brute beasts, 
 that have made yourselves so, shrivelling up your 
 souls with fiery liquors ! I have done with you. 
 Years and years ago I groped into your hearts, 
 and found nothing there for my purpose. Get ye 
 gone ! " 
 
 " Why, you uncivil scoundrel ! " cried the fierce 
 doctor, " is that the way you respond to the kind- 
 ness of your best friends ? Then let me tell you 
 the truth. You have no more found the Unpar- 
 donable Sin than yonder boy Joe has. You are 
 but a crazy fellow — I told you so twenty years 
 ago — neither better nor worse than a crazy fel- 
 low, and the fit companion of old Humphrey 
 here!" 
 
 He pointed to an old man, shabbily dressed, 
 with long white hair, thin visage, and unsteady 
 eyes. For some years past this aged person had 
 been wandering about among the hills, inquiring 
 of all travellers whom he met for his daughter. 
 The girl, it seemed, had gone off with a company 
 of circus performers, and occasionally tidings of 
 her came to the village, and fine stories were told 
 of her glittering appearance as she rode on horse-
 
 288 Black Rock. 
 
 back in the ring or performed marvellous feats 
 on the tight-rope. 
 
 The white-haired father now approached Ethan 
 Brand and gazed unsteadily into his face. 
 
 " The J tell me you have been all over the 
 earth," said he, wringing his hands with earnest- 
 ness. " You must have seen my daughter, for she 
 makes a grand figure in the world and everybody 
 goes to see her. Did she send any word to her old 
 father, or say when she was coming back ? " 
 
 Ethan Brand's eye quailed beneath the old 
 man's. That daughter from whom he so earnest- 
 ly desired a word of greeting was the Esther of 
 our tale, the very girl whom, with such cold and 
 remorseless purpose, Ethan Brand had made the 
 subject of a psychological experiment, and wasted, 
 absorbed, and perhaps annihilated her soul in the 
 process. 
 
 " Yes," murmured he, turning away from the 
 hoary wanderer, " it is no delusion. There is an 
 Unpardonable Sin ! " 
 
 While these things were passing a merry scene 
 was going forward in the area of cheerful light 
 beside the spring and before the door of the hut. 
 A number of the youth of the village, young men 
 and girls, had hurried up the hill-side, impelled
 
 Ethan Brand. 289 
 
 by curiosity to see Ethan Brand, the hero of so 
 many a legend familiar to their childhood. Find- 
 ing nothing, however, very remarkable in his as- 
 pect — nothing but a sun-burnt wayfarer, in plain 
 garb and dusty shoes, who sat looking into the fire 
 as if he fancied pictures among the coals — these 
 young people speedily grew tired of observing 
 him. As it happened, there was other amusement 
 at hand. An old German Jew, travelling with a 
 diorama on his back, was passing down the moun- 
 tain-road toward the village just as the party 
 turned aside from it, and in hopes of eking out the 
 profits of the day the showman had kept them 
 company to the lime-kiln. 
 
 " Come, old Dutchman," cried one of the young 
 men, " let us see your pictures, if you can swear 
 they are worth looking at." 
 
 " Oh yes, captain," answered the Jew — whether 
 as a matter of courtesy or craft, he styled every- 
 body " captain " — " I shall show you, indeed, 
 some very superb pictures." 
 
 So, placing his box in a proper position, he in- 
 vited the young men and girls to look through the 
 glass orifices of the machine, and proceeded to ex- 
 hibit a series of the most outrageous scratchings 
 and daubings as specimens of the fine arts that 
 19
 
 290 Black Rock. 
 
 ever an itinerant sliowman had the face to impose 
 upon his circle of spectators. The pictures were 
 worn out, moreover, tattered, full of cracks and 
 wrinkles, dingy with tobacco-smoke, and otherwise 
 in a most pitiable condition. Some purported to 
 be cities, public edifices, and ruined castles in 
 Europe ; others represented Xapoleon's battles and 
 Nelson's sea-fights; and in the midst of these 
 "would be seen a gigantic brown hairy hand — 
 which might have been mistaken for the Hand of 
 Destiny, though, in truth, it was only the show- 
 man's — pointing its forefinger to various scenes of 
 the conflict, while its owner gave historical illus- 
 trations. When, with much merriment at its 
 abominable deficiency of merit, the exhibition was 
 concluded, the German bade little Joe put his 
 head into the box. Viewed through the magni- 
 fying glasses, the 'boy's round, rosy visage as- 
 sumed the strangest imaginable aspect of an im- 
 mense Titanic child, the mouth grinning broadly 
 and the eyes and every other feature overflowing 
 with fun at the joke. Suddenly, liowever, that 
 merry face turned pale and its expression changed 
 to horror, for this easily impressed and excitable 
 child had become sensible that the eye of Ethan 
 Brand was fixed upon him. through the glass.
 
 Ethan Brand. 291 
 
 "You make the little man to be afraid, cap- 
 tain," said the German Jew, turning up the dark 
 and strong outline of his visage from his stooping 
 posture. " But look again, and, by chance, I 
 shall cause you to see somewhat that is very fine, 
 upon my word." 
 
 Ethan Brand gazed into the box for an instant, 
 and then, starting back, looked fixedly at the Ger- 
 man. What had he seen ? Nothing, apparently, 
 for a curious youth who had peeped in almost at 
 the same moment beheld only a vacant space of 
 canvas. 
 
 " I remember you now," muttered Ethan Brand 
 to the showman. 
 
 " Ah, captain," whispered the Jew of IRurem- 
 burg, with a dark smile, " I find it to be a heavy 
 matter in my show-box, this Unpardonable Sin! 
 By my faith, captain, it has wearied my shoulders 
 this long day to carry it over the mountain." 
 
 " Peace ! " answered Ethan Brand sternly, " or 
 get thee into the furnace yonder ! " 
 
 The Jew's exhibition had scarcely concluded 
 when a great elderly dog, who seemed to be his 
 own master, as no person in the company laid 
 claim to him, saw fit to render himself the object 
 of public notice. Hitherto he had shown himself
 
 292 Black Rock. 
 
 a very quiet, well-disposed old dog, going round 
 from one to another, and, by way of being sociable, 
 offering his rough head to be patted by any 
 kindly hand that would take so much trouble. 
 But now, all of a sudden, this grave and vener- 
 aible quadruped, of his own mere motion and with- 
 out the slightest suggestion from anybody else, 
 began to run round after his tail, which, to 
 heighten the absurdity of the proceeding, was a 
 great deal shorter than it should have been. Never 
 was seen such headlong eagerness in pursuit of 
 an object that could not possibly be attained; 
 never was heard such a tremendous outbreak of 
 growling, snarling, barking, and snapping, as if 
 one end of the ridiculous brute's body were at 
 deadly and most unforgivable enmity with the 
 other. Faster and faster round about went the 
 cur, and faster and still faster fled the unap- 
 proachable brevity of his tail, and louder and 
 fiercer grew his yells of rage and animosity, until, 
 utterly exhausted and as far from the goal as ever, 
 the foolish old dog ceased his performance as sud- 
 denly as he had begun it. The next moment he 
 was as mild, quiet, sensible, and respectable in his 
 deportment as when he first scraped acquaintance 
 with the company.
 
 Ethan Brand. 293 
 
 As may be supposed, the exliibition was greeted 
 with, universal laughter, clapping of hands, and 
 shouts of encore, to which the canine performer 
 responded by wagging all that there was to wag 
 of his tail, but appeared totally unable to repeat 
 his very successful effort to amuse the spectators. 
 
 Meanwhile, Ethan Brand had resumed his seat 
 upon the log, and moved, it might be, by a percep- 
 tion of some remote analogy between his own 
 case and that of this self-pursuing cur, he broke 
 into the awful laugh which, more than any other 
 token, expressed the condition of his inward be- 
 ing. From that moment the merriment of the 
 party was at an end; they stood aghast, dreading 
 lest the inauspicious sound should be reverberated 
 around the horizon, and that mountain would 
 thunder it to mountain, and so the horror be pro- 
 longed upon their ears. Then, whispering one to 
 another that it was late, that the moon was almost 
 down, that the August night was growing chill, 
 they hurried homeward, leaving the lime-burner 
 and little Joe to deal as they might with their un- 
 welcome guest. Save for these three human be- 
 ings, the open space on the hill-side was a soli- 
 tude set in a vast gloom of forest. Beyond that 
 darksome verge the fire-light glimmered on the
 
 294 Black Rock. 
 
 stately trunks and almost black foliage of pines 
 intennixed with the lighter verdure of sapling 
 oaks, maples, and poplars, while here and there 
 lay the gigantic corpses of dead trees decaying on 
 the leaf-stre%vn soil. And it seemed to little Joe 
 — a timorous and imiaginative child — that the si- 
 lent forest was holding its breath until some fear- 
 ful thing should happen. 
 
 Ethan Brand thrust more wood into the fire and 
 closed the door of the kiln ; then, looking over his 
 shoulder at the lime-burner and his son, he bade 
 rather than advised them to retire to rest. 
 
 " For myself, I cannot sleep," said he. " I 
 have matters that it concerns me to meditate upon. 
 I will wajtch the fire, as I used to do in the old 
 time." 
 
 " And call the devil out of the furnace to keep 
 you company, I suppose," muttered Bartram, who 
 had been making intimate acquaintance with the 
 black bottle above mentioned. " But watch if you 
 like, and call as many devils as you like. For my 
 pairt, I shall be all the better for a snooze. — Come, 
 Joe." 
 
 As the boy followed his father into the hut he 
 looked back at the wayfarer, and tlie tears came 
 into his eyes, for his tender spirit had an intuition
 
 Ethan Brand. 295 
 
 of the bleak and terrible loneliness in wiiich this 
 man bad enveloped himself. 
 
 When they had gone Ethan Brand sat listen- 
 ing to th.e crackling of the kindled wood and look- 
 ing at the little spirits of fire that issued through 
 tho chinks of the door. These trifles, however, 
 once so familiar, had but the slightest hold of his 
 attention, while deep within his mind he was re- 
 viewing the gradual but marvellous change that 
 had been wrought upon him by the search to which 
 be had devoted himself. He remembered how the 
 night dew had fallen upon him, how the dark 
 forest had whispered to him, how the stars bad 
 gleamed upon him, a simple and loving man, 
 watching his fire in the years gone by, and ever 
 musing as it burned. He remembered with what 
 tenderness, with what love and sympathy for man- 
 kind, and what pity for human guilt and woe he 
 bad first begun to contemplate those ideas which 
 afterward became the inspiration of his life ; with 
 what reverence be had then looked into the heart 
 of man, viewing it as a temple originally divine, 
 and, however desecrated, still to be held sacred by 
 a brother ; with what awful fear he had deprecated 
 the success of his pursuit and prayed that the Un- 
 pardonable Sin might never be revealed to him.
 
 296 Black Rock, 
 
 Then, ensued that vast intellectual development 
 which, in its progress, disturbed the counterpoise 
 between his mind and heart. The Idea that pos- 
 sessed his life had operated as a means of edu- 
 cation; it had gone on cultivating his powers to 
 the highest point of which thej were susceptible; 
 it had raised him from the level of an unlettered 
 laborer to stand on a star-lit eminence, whither 
 the philosophers of the earth, laden with the lore 
 of universities, might vainly strive to clamber 
 after him. So much for the intellect ! But 
 where was the heart ? That, indeed, had with- 
 ered, had contracted, had hardened, had perished. 
 It had ceased to partake of the universal throb, 
 lie had lost his hold of the magnetic chain of 
 humanity. He was no longer a brother-man, 
 opening the chambers or the dungeons of our 
 common nature by the key of holy sympathy 
 which gave him a right to share in all its secrets ; 
 he was now a cold observer, looking on mankind 
 as the subject of his experiment, and at length 
 converting man and woman to be his puppets, 
 and pulling the wires that moved them to such de- 
 grees of crime as were demanded for his 
 study. 
 
 Thus Ethan Brand became a fiend. He be-
 
 Ethan Brand. 297 
 
 ffan to "be so from the moment that his moral na- 
 ture had ceased to keep the pace of improvement 
 with his intellect. And now, as his highest effort 
 and inevitable development — as the bright and 
 gorgeous flower and rich, delicious fruit of his 
 life's labor — he had produced the Unpardonable 
 Sin! 
 
 " What more have I to seek ? what more to 
 achieve ? " said Ethan Brand to himself. " My 
 task is done, and well done." 
 
 Starting from the log with a certain alacrity 
 in 'his gait, and ascending the hillock of earth 
 that was raised against the stone circumference 
 of the lime-kiln, he thus readied the top of the 
 structure. It was a space of perhaps ten feet 
 across from edge to edge, presenting a view of the 
 upper surface of the immense mass of broken 
 mar^ble with which the kiln was heaped. All these 
 innumerable blocks and fragments of marble were 
 red-hot and vividly on fire, sending up great 
 spouts of blue flame, which quivered aloft and 
 danced madly as within a magic circle, and sank 
 and rose again with continual and multitudinous 
 activity. As the lonely man bent forward over 
 this terrible body of fire the blasting heat smote 
 up against his person with a breath that, it
 
 298 Black Rock, 
 
 might be supposed, would liave scorclied and 
 shrivelled him up in a moment. 
 
 Etlian Brand stood erect and raised his arms 
 on high. The blue flames played upon his face, 
 aaid imparted the wild and ghastly light which 
 alone could have suited its expression ; it was that 
 of a fiend on the verge of plunging into his gulf 
 of intensest torment. 
 
 " O Mother Earth," cried he, " who art no more 
 my mother and into whose bosom this frame 
 shall never be resolved! — O mankind, whose 
 brotherhood I have cast off, and trampled thy 
 great heart beneath my feet! — O stars of heaven, 
 that shone on me of old, as if to light me onward 
 and upAvard! — farewell all, and for ever. Come, 
 deadly element of Fire, henceforth my familiar 
 friend ! Embrace me as I do thee ! " 
 
 That night the sound of a fearful peal of laugh- 
 ter rolled heavily through the sleep of the lime- 
 burner and his little son; dim shapes of horror 
 and anguish haunted their dreams, and seemed 
 still present in the rude hovel when they opened 
 their eyes to the daylight. 
 
 "Up, boy, up! " cried the lime-burner, staring 
 about him. " Thank Heaven, the night is gone 
 at last, and rather than pass such another I would
 
 Ethan Brand, 299 
 
 watch my lime-kiln, wide awake, for a twelve- 
 month. This Ethan Brand, with his humbug of 
 an Unpardonable Sin, has done me no such 
 mighty favor in taking my place." 
 
 He issued from the hut, followed by little Joe, 
 who kept fast hold of his father's hajid. The 
 early sunshine was already pouring its gold upon 
 the mountain-tops, and though the valleys were 
 still in shadow, they smiled cheerfully in the 
 promise of the bright day that was hastening on- 
 ward. The village, completely shut in by hills 
 which swelled away gently about it, looked as if 
 it had rested peacefully in the hollow of the 
 great hand of Providence. Every dwelling was 
 distinctly visible; the little spires of the two 
 churches pointed upward and caught a fore- 
 glimmering of brightness from the sun-gilt skies 
 upon their gilded weather-cocks. The tavern was 
 astir, and the figure of the old, smoke-dried 
 stage-agent, cigar in mouth, was seen beneath the 
 stoop. Old Graylock was glorifi.ed with a golden 
 cloud upon his head. Scattered likewise over 
 the breasts of the surrounding mountains there 
 were heaps of hoary mists in fantastic shapes, 
 some of them far down into the valley, others 
 high up toward the summits, and still others, of
 
 300 Black Rock. 
 
 the same family of mist or cloud, hovering in the 
 gold radiance of the upper atmosphere. Step- 
 ping from one to another of the clouds that rested 
 on the hills, and thence to the loftier brotherhood 
 that sailed in air, it seemed almost as if a mortal 
 man might thus ascend into the heavenly regions. 
 Earth was so mingled with sky that it was a day- 
 dream to look at it. 
 
 To supply that charm of the familiar and 
 homely which Nature so readily adopts into a 
 scene like this, the stage-coach was rattling down 
 the mountain-road, and the driver sounded his 
 horn, while echo caught up the notes and inter- 
 twined them into a rich and varied and elaborate 
 harmony of which the original performer could 
 lay claim to little share. The great hills played 
 a concert among themselves, each contributing a 
 strain of airy sweetness. 
 
 Little Joe's face brightened at once. 
 
 " Dear father," cried he, skipping cheerily 
 to and fro, " that strange man is gone, and the 
 sky and the mountains all seem glad of it." 
 
 " Yes," growled the lime-burner with an oath, 
 " but he has let tfite fire go down, and no thanks 
 to him if five hundred bushels of lime are not
 
 Ethan Brand. 301 
 
 spoiled. If I catcii the fellow hereabouts again, 
 I shall feel like tossing him into the furnace." 
 
 With his long pole in his hand he ascended to 
 the top of the kiln. After a moment's pause he 
 called to his son. 
 
 " Come up here, Joe ! " said he. 
 
 So little Joe ran up the hillock and stood by his 
 father's side. The marble was all burnt into per- 
 fect, snow-white lime. But on its surface, in the 
 midst of the circle — snow-white too, and thor- 
 oughly converted into lime — lay a human skel- 
 eton in the attitude of a person who, after long 
 toil, lies down to long repose. Within the ribs, 
 strange to say, was the shape of a human heart. 
 
 " Was the fellow's heart made of marble ? " 
 cried Bartram, in some perplexity at this phe- 
 nomenon. " At any rate, it is burnt into what 
 looks like special good lime ; and, taking all the 
 bones together, my kiln is half a bushel the richer 
 for him." 
 
 So sayins:, the rude lime-burner lifted his pole, 
 and, letting it fall upon the skeleton, the relics of 
 Ethan Brand were crumbled into fragments.
 
 302 Black Rock. 
 
 JOHIN" mOLEFIELD'S THANKSGIVING. 
 
 On the evening of Thanksgiving day John 
 Inglefield, the blacksmith, sat in his elbow-chair 
 among those who had been keeping festival at his 
 board. Being the central figure of the domestic 
 circle, the fire threw its strongest light on his mas- 
 sive and sturdy frame, reddening his rough visage 
 so that it looked like the head of an iron statue 
 all aglow from his own forge and with its features 
 rudely fashioned on his own anvil. At John 
 Inglefield's right hand was an empty chair. The 
 other places round the hearth were filled i>y the 
 members of the family, who all sat quietly, while, 
 with a semblance of fantastic merriment, their 
 shadows danced on the wall behind them. One 
 of the group was John Inglefield's son, who had 
 been bred at college, and was now a student of 
 theology at Andover. There was also a daughter 
 of sixteen, whom nobodv could look at without 
 thinking of a rose-bud almost blossomed. The 
 only other person at the fireside was Robert
 
 John Inglefield's Thanksgiving 303 
 
 Moore, formerly an apprentice of the blacksmith, 
 but now his journeyman, and wbo seemed more 
 like an own son of John Ingiefieid than did the 
 pale and slender student. 
 
 Only these four had kept New England's fes- 
 tival beneath tliat roof. The vacant chair at 
 John Inglefield's right hand was in memory of 
 bis wife, whom death had snatched from him 
 since the previous Thanksgiving. With a feeling 
 that few would bave looked for in his rough 
 nature, the bereaved husband had himself set the 
 chair in its place next his own ; and often did his 
 eye glance thitherward, as if he deemed it possible 
 that the cold grave might send back its tenant to 
 the cheerful fireside, at least for that one eve- 
 ning. Thus did he cberish the grief that was dear 
 to him. But tbere was another grief wliicli he 
 would fain have torn from his heart, or, since 
 that could never be, have buried it too deep for 
 others to behold, or for his own remembrance. 
 Within the past year another member of his 
 household had gone from him, hut not to the 
 grave. Yet they kept no vacant chair for her. 
 
 While John Tnglefield and his family were sit- 
 ting round the hearth, with the shadows dancing 
 behind them on the wall, the outer door was
 
 304 Black Rock. 
 
 opened and a light footstep came along tlie pas* 
 sage. The latch of the inner door was lifted bj 
 some familiar Land, and a young girl came in, 
 wearing a cloak and hood, which she took off and 
 laid on the table beneath the looking-glass. Then, 
 after gazing a moment at the fireside circle, she 
 a.pproached and took the seat at John Inglefield's 
 right hand, as if it had been reserved on purpose 
 for her. 
 
 " Here I am at last, father," said she. " You 
 ate your Thanksgiving dinner without me, but I 
 have come back to spend the evening with you." 
 
 Yes, it was Prudence Inglefield. She wore the 
 same neat and maidenly attire which she had been 
 accustomed to put on when the household work 
 was over for the day, and her hair was parted 
 from her brow in the simple and modest fashion 
 that became her best of all. If her cheek might 
 otherwise have been pale, yet the glow of the fire 
 suffused it with a healthful bloom. If she had 
 spent tJie many months of her absence in guilt and 
 infamy, yet they seemed to have left no traces on 
 her gentle aspect. She could not have looked less 
 altered had she merely stepped away from her 
 father's fireside for half an hoTir, and returned 
 while the blaze was quivering upward from the
 
 John Inglefield's Thanksgiving. 305 
 
 same brands that were burning at her departure. 
 And to John Inglefield she was the very image 
 of his buried wife, such as he remembered her on 
 the first Thanksgiving which they had passed 
 under their o\vn roof. Therefore, though natu- 
 rally a stern and rugged man, he could not speak 
 unkindly to his sinful child, nor yet could he take 
 her to his bosom. 
 
 " You are welcome home. Prudence," said he 
 glancing sideways at her, and his voice faltered 
 " Your mother would have rejoiced to see you 
 but she has been gone from us these four months.' 
 
 " I know it, father, I know it," replied Pru 
 dence, quickly. " And yet, when I first came in 
 my eye-s were so dazzled by the fire-light that she 
 seemed to be sitting in this very chair." 
 
 By this time the other members of the family 
 had begun to recover from their surprise, and be- 
 came sensible that it was no ghost from the grave 
 nor vision of their vivid recollections, but Pru- 
 dence her own self. Her brother was the next 
 that greeted her. He advanced and held out his 
 hand affectionately, as a brother should ; yet not 
 entirely like a brother, for, with all his kindness, 
 he was still a clergyman and speaking to a child 
 
 of sin. 
 20
 
 3o6 Black Rock. 
 
 " Sister Prudence," said lie, earnestly, " I re- 
 joice that a merciful Providence hath turned your 
 steps homeward in time for me to bid you a last 
 farewell. In a few weeks, sister, I am to sail as 
 a missionary to the far islands of the Pacific. 
 There is not one of these beloved faces that I 
 shall ever hope to behold again on this earth. Oh, 
 may I see all of them — ^yours and all— beyond the 
 grave ! " 
 
 A shadow flitted across the girl's countenanca 
 
 ^' The grave is very dark, brother," answered 
 she, withdrawing her hand somewhat hastily from 
 his grasp. " You must look your last at me by the 
 light of this fire." 
 
 While this was passing the twin-girl — the rose- 
 bud that had grown on the same stem with the 
 castaway — stood gazing at her sister, longing to 
 fling herself upon her bosom, so that the tendrils 
 of their hearts might intertwine again. At first 
 she was restrained by mingled grief and shame, 
 and by a dread that Prudence v/as too much 
 changed to respond to her affection, or that her own 
 purity would be felt as a reproach by the lost one. 
 But as she listened to the familiar voice, while 
 the face grew more and more familiar, she forgot 
 everything save that Prudence had come back.
 
 iohn Ingiefield's Thanksgiving. 307 
 
 Springing forward, siie would have clasped her in 
 a close embrace. At that very instant, however. 
 Prudence started from her chair and lield out 
 both her hands with a warning gesture, 
 
 " No, Mary — no, mj sister," cried she, " do 
 not you touch me. Your bosom must not be 
 pressed to mine." 
 
 Mary shuddered and stood still, for she felt 
 that something darker than the grave was between 
 Prudence and herself, though they seemed so near 
 each other in the light of their father's hearth, 
 where they had grown up together. Meanwhile, 
 Prudence threw her eves around the room in 
 search of one who had not yet bidden her wel- 
 come. He had withdrawn from his seat by the 
 fireside, and was standing near the door with 
 his face averted, so that his features could be dis- 
 cerned only by the flickering shadow of the profile 
 upon the wall. But Prudence called to him in a 
 cheerful and kindly tone. 
 
 " Come, Robert," said she, " won't you shake 
 hands with your old friend ? " 
 
 • Robert Moore held back for a moment, but af- 
 fection struggled powerfully, and overcame his 
 pride and resentment; he rushed toward Pru- 
 dence, seized her hand, and pressed it to his bosom. '
 
 3o8 Black Rock. 
 
 " There, there, Robert ! " said she, smiling sadly 
 as she withdrew her hand ; " you must not give 
 me too waiTQ a welcome." 
 
 And now, having exchanged greetings with 
 each member of the family. Prudence again seated 
 herself in the chair at John Inglefield's right 
 hand. She was naturally a girl of quick and ten- 
 der sensibilities, gladsome in her general mood, 
 but wdth a bewitching pathos interfused among 
 her merriest words and deeds. It w^as remarked 
 of her, too, that she had a faculty, even from child- 
 hood, of throwing her own feelings like a spell 
 over her companions. Such as she had been in her 
 days of innocence, so did she appear this evening. 
 Her friends, in the surprise and bewilderment of 
 her return, almost forgot that she had ever left 
 them or that she had forfeited any of her claims 
 to their affection. In the morning, perhaps, they 
 might have looked at her with altered eyes, but 
 by the Thanksgiving fireside they felt only that 
 their own Prudence had come back to them, and 
 were thankful. John Inglefield's rough visage 
 brightened with the glow of his heart as it grew 
 warm and merry within him ; once or twice even 
 he laughed till the room rang again, yet seemed 
 startled by the echo of his own. mirth. The gi-avo
 
 John Inglefield's Thanksgiving. 309 
 
 yt)iing minister became as frolicsome as a school- 
 boj. irarv, too, the rosebud, forgot that her 
 twin-blossom had ever been torn from the stem 
 and trampled in the dust. x\nd as for Robert 
 Moore, he gazed at Prudence with the bashful 
 earnestness of love new-born, while she, with 
 sweet maiden coquetry, half smiled upon and half 
 discouraged him. 
 
 In short, it was one of those intervals when sor- 
 row vanishes in its own depth of shadow, and joy 
 starts forth in transitory brightness. When the 
 clock struck eight Prudence poured out her 
 father's customary draught of herb tea, which 
 had been steeping by the fireside ever since twi- 
 light. 
 
 " God bless you, child ! " said John Inglefield, 
 as he took the cup from her hand ; " you have 
 made your old father happy again. But we miss 
 your mother sadly, Prudence, sadly. It seems as 
 if she ought to be here now." 
 
 " Now, father, or never," replied Prudence. 
 
 It was now the hour for domestic worship. But 
 while the family were making preparations for 
 this duty they suddenly perceived that Priidence 
 had put on her cloak and hood and was lifting the 
 latch of the door.
 
 310 Black Rock. 
 
 (I 
 
 Prudence, Prudence ! where are jou going ? " 
 cried they all with one voice. 
 
 As Prudence passed out of the door she turned 
 toward them and flung back her hand with a ges- 
 ture of farewell. But her face was so changed 
 that they hardly recognized it. Sin and evil pas- 
 sions glowed through its comeliness and wrought 
 a horrible deformity ; a smile gleamed in her eyes, 
 as of triumphant mockery at their surprise and 
 grief. 
 
 " Daughter," cried John Inglefield, between 
 wrath and sorrow, " stay and be your father's 
 blessing, or take his curse with you ! " 
 
 For an instant Prudence lingered and looked 
 back into the fire-lighted room, while her counte- 
 nance wore almost the expression as if she were 
 struggling witli a fiend who had power to seizfe 
 his victim even within the hallowed precincts of 
 her father's hearth. The fiend prevailed, and 
 Prudence vanished into the outer darkness. Wlien 
 the family rushed to the door they could see noth- 
 ing, but heard the sound of wheels rattling over 
 the frozen ground. 
 
 That same night, among the painted beauties 
 at the theatre of a neighboring city, there was one 
 whose dissolute mirth seemed inconsistent with
 
 John Inglefield's Thanksgiving. 311 
 
 any sympathy for pure affectiong and for the joys 
 and griefs which are hallowed by them. Yet 
 this \vas Prudence Inglefield. Her visit to the 
 Thanksgiving fireside was the realization of one 
 of those waking dreams in which the guilty soul 
 will sometimes stray back to its innocence. But 
 Sin, alas! is careful of her bond-slaves; they hear 
 her voice, perhaps, at the holiest moment, and are 
 constrained to go whither she summons them. 
 The same dark power that drew Prudence Irigle- 
 field from her father's hearth — the same in its 
 nature, though heightened then to a dread neces- 
 sity — would snatch a guilty soul from the gate of 
 heaven, and make its sin and its punishment alike 
 eternal.
 
 312 Black Rock. 
 
 MAJOR MOLINEUX. 
 
 Aftee the kings of Great Britain had assumed 
 the right of appointing the colonial governors the 
 measures of the latter seldom met with the ready 
 and general approbation which had been paid to 
 those of their predecessors under the original 
 charters. The people looked with most jealous 
 scrutiny to the exercise of power which did not 
 emanate from themselves, and they usually re- 
 wairded their rulers with slender gratitude for 
 the compliances by which, in softening their in- 
 structions from beyond the sea, they had incurred 
 the reprehension of those who gave them. The 
 annals of Massachusetts Bay will inform us that 
 of six governors in the space of about forty years 
 from the surrender of the old charter under James 
 II., two were imprisoned by a popular insurrec- 
 tion; a third, as Hutchinson inclines to believe, 
 was driven from the province by the whizzing of ^ 
 musket-ball; a fourth, in the opinion of the scrv
 
 Major Molineux. 313 
 
 bistorian, was hastened to his ^rave by continual 
 bickerings with the House of Representatives; 
 and the remaining two, as well as their successors 
 till the Revolution, were favored with few and 
 brief intervals of peaceful sway. The inferior 
 members of the court party in times of high po- 
 litical excitement led scarcely a more desirable 
 life. These remarks may serve as a preface to 
 the following adventures, which chanced upon a 
 summer night not far from a hundred years ago. 
 The reader, in order to avoid a long and dry de- 
 tail of colonial affairs, is requested to dispense 
 with an account of the train of circumstances 
 that had caused much temporary inflammation of 
 the popular mind. 
 
 It was near nine o'clock of a moonlight eve- 
 ning when a boat crossed the ferry with a single 
 passenger, who had obtained his conveyance at 
 that unusual hour by the promise of an extra fare. 
 While he stood on the landing-place searching in 
 either pocket for the means of fulfilling his agree- 
 ment, the ferryman lifted a lantern, by the aid of 
 which and the newly-risen moon he took a very 
 accurate survey of the stranger's figure. He was 
 a youth of barely eighteen years, evidently coun- 
 try-bred, and now, as it should seem, upon his
 
 314 Black Rock. 
 
 first visit to town. He was clad in a coarse gray 
 coat, well worn, but in excellent repair ; his under- 
 garments were durably constructed of leather, and 
 fitted tight to a pair of serviceable and well- 
 shaped limbs ; his stockings of blue yam were the 
 incontrovertible work of a mother or a sister ; an<] 
 on his head was a three-cornered hat which iii 
 its better daj^s had perhaps sheltered the graver 
 brow of the lad's father. Under his left arm was 
 a heavy cudgel formed of an oak sapling and re- 
 taining a part of the hardened root; and his 
 equipment was completed by a wallet not so 
 abundantly stocked as to incommode the vigorous 
 shoulders on which it hung. Brown curly hair, 
 well-shaped features, and bright cheerful eyes 
 were Nature's gifts, and worth all that art could 
 have done for his adornment. 
 
 The youth, one of whose names was Robin, 
 finally drew from his pocket the half of a little 
 province bill of five shillings, which, in the de- 
 preciation of that sort of currency, did but satisfy 
 the ferryman's demand, with the surplus of a 
 sexangnlar piece of parchment valued at three 
 pence. He then walked forward into the town 
 with as light a step as if his day's jouniey had 
 not already exceeded thirty miles, and with as-
 
 Major Molineux. 315 
 
 eager an eye as if he were entering London City, 
 instead of the little metropolis of a New England 
 colony. Before Kobin had proceeded far, how- 
 ever, it occurred to hini that he knew not whither 
 to direct his steps, so he paused and looked up 
 and down the narrow street, scrutinizing the small 
 and mean wooden buildings that were scattered 
 on either side. 
 
 " This low hovel cannot be my kinsman's 
 dwelling," thought he, " nor yonder old house, 
 where the moonlight enters at the broken case- 
 ment; and, truly, I see none hereabouts that 
 might be worthy of him. It would have been wise 
 to inquire my way of tlie ferryman, and doubt- 
 less he would have gone with me and earned a 
 shilling from the major for his pains. But the 
 next man I meet will do as well." 
 
 He resiuned his walk, and was glad to perceive 
 that the street now became wider and the houses 
 more respectable in their appearance. He soon 
 discerned a figure moving on moderately in ad- 
 vance, and hastened his steps to overtake it. As 
 Robin drew nigh he saw that tlie passenger was 
 a man in years, with a full periwig of gray hair, 
 a wide-skirted coat of dark cloth, and silk stock- 
 ings rolled above his knees. He carried a long
 
 3i6 Black Rock. 
 
 and polished cane whicli lie struck down per- 
 pendicularly before Mm at every step, and at 
 regular intervals he uttered two successive hems 
 of a peculiarly solemn and sepulchral intonation. 
 Having made these observations, Robin laid hold 
 of the skirt of the old man's coat just when the 
 light from the open door and windows of a bar- 
 ber's shop fell upon both their figures. 
 
 " Good-evening to you, honored sir," said he, 
 making a low bow and still retaining his hold of 
 the skirt. " I pray you tell me whereaibouts is 
 tke dwelling of my kinsman. Major Molineux ? " 
 
 The youth's question was uttered very loudly, 
 and one of the barbers, whose razor was descend- 
 ing on a well-soaped chin, and another who was 
 dressing a Ramillies wig, left their occupations 
 and came to the door. The citizen in the mean 
 time turned a long-favored countenance upon 
 Robin, and answered him in a tone of excessive 
 anger and annoyance. His two sepulchral hems, 
 however, broke into the very centre of his rebuke 
 with most singular effect, like a thought of the 
 cold grave obtruding among wrathful passions. 
 
 " Let go my garment, fellow ! I tell you I 
 know not the man you speak of. A^Tiat ! I have 
 authority, I have — hem, hem — authority; and if
 
 Major Molineux. 317 
 
 tMs be the respect you sliow for your betters, 
 your feet shall be brought acquainted with the 
 stocks by daylight to-morrow morning." 
 
 Eobin released the old man's skirt and hast- 
 ened away, pursued by an ill-mannered roar of 
 laughter from the barber's shop. He was at first 
 considerably surprised by the result of his ques- 
 tion, but, being a shrewd youth, soon thought him- 
 self able to account for the mystery. 
 
 " This is some country representative," was his 
 conclusion, " who has never seen the inside of my 
 kinsman's door, and lacks the breeding to answer 
 a stranger civilly. The man is old, or verily I 
 might be tempted to turn back and smite him on 
 the nose. i\.h, Robin, Robin ! even the barber's 
 boys laugh at you for choosing such a guide ! 
 You will be wiser in time, friend Robin." 
 
 He now became entangled in a succession of 
 crooked and narrow streets which crossed each 
 other and meandered at no great distance from 
 the water-side. The smell of tar was obvious to 
 his nostrils, the masts of vessels pierced the moon- 
 light above the tops of the buildings, and the 
 numerous signs which Robin paused to read in- 
 formed him that he was near the centre of busi- 
 ness. But the streets were empty, the shops were
 
 3i8 Black Rock. 
 
 closed, and lights were visible only in the second 
 stories of a few dwelling-houses. At length, on 
 the comer of a narrow lane through which he was 
 passing, he beheld the broad countenance of a 
 British hero swinging before the door of an inn 
 whence proceeded the voices of many guests. The 
 casement of one of the lower windows was thrown 
 back, and a very thin curtain permitted Robin to 
 distinguish a party at supper round a well-fur- 
 nished table. The fragrance of the good cheer 
 steamed forth into the outer air, and the youth 
 could not fail to recollect that the last remnant 
 of his travelling stock of provision had yielded 
 to his morning appetite, and th'at noon had found, 
 and left, him dinnerless. 
 
 " Oh that a parchment three-penny might give 
 me a right to sit down at yonder table ! " said 
 Robin with a sigh. " But the major will make 
 me welcome to the best of his victuals, so I will 
 even step boldly in and inquire my way to his 
 dwelling." 
 
 He entered the tavern, and was guided by tihe 
 murmur of voices and the fumes of tobacco to the 
 public room. It was a long and low apartment, 
 with oaken walls grown dark in the contimral 
 smoke, and a floor which was thickly sanded, but
 
 Major Molineux. 31O 
 
 of no immaculate purity. A number of persons, 
 tiie larger part of whom appeared to be mariners 
 or in some way connected with the sea, occupied 
 the wooden benches or leather-bottomed chaii's, 
 conversing on various matters, and occasionally 
 lending their attention to some topic of gen- 
 eral interest Three or four little groups 
 were draining as many bowls of punch whicli 
 the West India trade had long since made 
 a familiar drink in the colony. Others, who 
 had the appearance of men who lived by 
 regular and laborious handicraft, preferred the 
 insulated bliss of an unshared potation, and be- 
 came more taciturn under its influence. ISTearly 
 all, in short, evinced a predilection for the Good 
 Creature in some of its various shapes, for this is 
 a vice to which, as Fast-day sermons of a hundred 
 years ago will testify, we have a long hereditary 
 claim. The only guests^ to whom Eobin's sympa- 
 tliies inclined him were two or three sheepish 
 countrymen who were using the inn somewhat 
 after the fashion of a Turkish caravansary; they 
 had gotten themselves into the darkest corner of 
 the room, and, heedless of the nicotian atmos- 
 phere, were supping on the bread of their own 
 ovens and the bacon cured in their own chimney-
 
 320 Black Rock. 
 
 smoke. But, tliougli Robin felt a sort o£ brother- 
 hood with these strangers, his eyes were attracted 
 from them to a person who stood near the door, 
 holding whispered conversation with a group of 
 ill-dressed associates. His features were sepa- 
 rately striking almost to grotesqueness, and the 
 whole face left a deep impression on the memory. 
 The forehead bulged out into a double prominence 
 with a vale between ; the nose came boldly forth in 
 an irregular curve, and its bridge was of more 
 than a finger's breadth; the eyebrows were deep 
 and shaggy, and the eyes glowed beneath them 
 
 like fire in a cave. 
 
 While Rolbin deliberated of whom to inquire 
 
 respecting his kinsman's dwelling, he was accosted 
 by the innkeeper, a little man in a stained white 
 apron, who had come to pay his professional wel- 
 come to the stranger. Being in the second gener- 
 ation from a French Protestant, he seemed to 
 have inherited the courtesy of his parent nation, 
 but no variety of circumstances was ever known 
 to change his voice from the one shrill note in 
 which he now addressed Robin. 
 
 " From the country, I presume, sir ? " said he, 
 with a profound bow. " Beg leave to congratu- 
 late you on your arrival, and trust you intend a
 
 Major Molineux. 321 
 
 long stay with us. Fine town here, sir, beautiful 
 buildings, and much that may interest a stranger. 
 May I hope for the honor of your commands in 
 respect to supper ? " 
 
 " The man sees a family likeness ! the rogue has 
 g-uessed that I am related to the major ! " thought 
 Robin, who had hitherto experienced little super- 
 fluous civility. 
 
 All eyes were now turned on the country lad 
 standing at the door in his worn three-cornered 
 hat, gray coat, leather breeches, and blue yarn 
 stockings, leaning on an oaken cudgel and bearing 
 a wallet on his back. 
 
 Robert replied to the courteous innkeeper with 
 such an assumption of confidence as befitted the 
 major's relative. " My honest friend," he said, 
 " I shall make it a point to patronize your house 
 on some occasion when " — here he could not help 
 lowering his voice — " when I may have more than 
 a parchment three-pence in my pocket. My 
 present business," continued he, speaking with 
 lofty confidence, " is merely to inquire my way to 
 the dwelling of my kinsman. Major Molineux." 
 
 There was a sudden and general movement in 
 the room, which Robin interpreted as expressing 
 the eagerness of each individual to become his 
 
 21
 
 322 Black Rock. 
 
 guide. But the innkeeper turned his ejes to a 
 written paper on the wall, which he read, or 
 seemed to read, with occasional recurrences to the 
 young man's figure. 
 
 " What have we here ? " said he, breaking his 
 speech into little dry fragments : " ' Left the house 
 of the subscriber, bounden sei-vant, Hezekiah 
 Mudge; had on, when he went away, gray coat, 
 leather breeches, master's third best hat. One 
 pound currency reward to whosoever shall lodge 
 him in any jail of the province.' Better trudge, 
 boy, better trudge ! " 
 
 Robin had begun to draw his hand toward the 
 lighter end of the oak cudgel, but a strange hos- 
 tility in every countenance induced him to re- 
 linquish his purpose of breaking the courteous 
 innkeeper's head. As he turned to leave the room, 
 he encountered a sneering glance from the bold- 
 featured personage whom he had before noticed, 
 and no sooner was he beyond the door than he 
 beard a general laugh, in which the innkeeper's 
 voice might be distingiTished, like the dropping of 
 small stones into a kettle. 
 
 " ISTow, is it not strange," thought Eobin, with 
 his usual shrewdness, — " is it not strange that 
 the confession of an empty pocket should out-
 
 Major Molineux. 323 
 
 weigh tJie name of my kinsman, Major Molineux ? 
 OLi, if I had one of those grinning rasoals in the 
 woods where I and my oak sapling grew up to- 
 gether, I would teach him that ray arm is heavy, 
 though my purse be light! " 
 
 On turning the comer of the narrow lane Robia 
 found himself in a spacious street with an un- 
 broken line of lofty houses on each side and a 
 steepled building at the upper end, whence the 
 ringing of a bell announced the hour of nine. The 
 light of the moon and the lamps from the niuner- 
 ous shop-windows discovered people promenading 
 on the pavement, and amongst them Robin hoped 
 to recognize his hitherto inscrutable relative. 
 The result of his former inquiries made him un- 
 willing to hazard another in a scene of such pub- 
 licity, and he detennined to walk slowly and 
 silently up the street, thrusting his face close to 
 that of every elderly gentleman, in search of the 
 major's lineaments. In his progress Robin en- 
 countered many gay and gallant figures. Em- 
 broidered gannents of showy colors, enormous 
 periwigs, gold-laced hats, and silver-hilted swords 
 glided past him and dazzled his optics. Travelled 
 youths, imitators of the European fine gentlemen 
 of the period, trod jauntingly along, half danc-
 
 324 Black Rock. 
 
 ing to tile fashionable tunes which thej hummed, 
 and making poor Robin ashamed of his quiet and 
 natural gait^ At length, after many pauses to 
 examine the gorgeous display of goods in the 
 sh-op-windows, and after suffering some rebukes 
 for the impertinence of his scrutiny into people's 
 faces, the major's kinsman foimd himself near 
 the steepled building, still unsuccessful in his 
 search. As yet, however, he had seen only one 
 side of the thronged street, so Robin crossed, and 
 continued the same sort of inquisition down the 
 opposite pavement, with, stronger hopes than the 
 philosoj)her seeking an honest man, but with no 
 better fortune. He had arrived about midway 
 toward the lower end, from which his course be- 
 gan, when he overheard the approach of some one 
 who struck down a cane on the flag^stones at every 
 step, uttering at regular intervals two sepulchral 
 hems. 
 
 " Mercy on us ! " quoth. Robin, recognizing 
 the sound. 
 
 Turning a comer whicb chanced to be close 
 at his right band, he hastened to pursue his re- 
 searches in some other part of the town. His pa- 
 tience now was wearing low, and he seemed to 
 feel more fatigue from his rambles since be
 
 Major Molineux. 325 
 
 crossed the ferry than from his journey of several 
 days on the other side. Hunger also pleaded 
 loudly within him, and Robin began to balance 
 the propriety of demanding, violently and with 
 lifted cudgel, the necessary guidance from the 
 first solitary passenger whom he should meet. 
 While a resolution to this effect was gaining 
 strength he entered a street of mean appearance, 
 on either side of which a row of ill-built houses 
 was straggling toward the harbor. The moonlight 
 fell upon no passenger along the whole extent, 
 but in the third domicile which Robin passed 
 there was a half -opened door, and his keen glance 
 detected a woman's garment within. 
 
 " My luck may be better here," said he to him- 
 self. 
 
 Accordingly, he approached the door, and be- 
 held it shut closer as he did so; yet an opened 
 space remained, sufficing for the fair oecupant to 
 observe the stranger without a corresponding dis- 
 play on her part. All that Robin could discern 
 was a strip of scarlet petticoat and tlie occasional 
 sparkle of an eye, as if the moonbeams were 
 trembling on some bright thing. 
 
 " Pretty mistress " — for T may call her so with 
 a good conscience, thought the shrew(7. youth, since
 
 326 Black Rock. 
 
 I know notliiiig to the contrary, — " my sweet 
 f)retty mistress, will you be kind enough to tell 
 me whereabouts I must seek the dwelling of my 
 kinsman, Major Molineux?" 
 
 Robin's voice was plaintive and winndng, and the 
 female, seeing nothing to be shunned in the hand- 
 some country youth, thrust open the door and 
 came forth into the moonlight. She was a dainty 
 little figure, with a white neck, round arms, and 
 a slender waist, at the extremity of which her 
 scarlet petticoat jutted out over a hoop, as if she 
 were standing in a balloon. Moreover, her face 
 was oval and pretty, her hair dark beneath the 
 little cap, and her bright eyes possessed a sly 
 freedom which triumphed over those of Robin. 
 
 " Major Molineux dwells here," said this fair 
 woman. 
 
 I^ow, her voice was the sweetest Robin had 
 heard that night, the airy counterpart of a stream 
 of melted silver, yet he could not help doubting 
 whether that sweet voice spoke gospel truth. He 
 looked up and down the mean street, and then 
 surveyed the house before which they stood. It 
 was a small dark edifice of two stories, the second 
 of which projected over the lower floor, and the
 
 Major Molineux. 327 
 
 front apartment had the aspect of a shop for 
 petty commodities. 
 
 " Now truly I am in luck," replied Rohin, 
 cunningly, " and so indeed is my kinsman, the 
 major, in having so pretty a housekeeper. But I 
 prithee trouble him to step to the door ; I will de- 
 liver him a message from his friends in the coun- 
 try, and then go back to my lodgings at the inn." 
 
 " 'Na.j, the major has been a-bed this hour or 
 more," said the lady of the scarlet petticoat, " and 
 it would be to little purpose to disturb him to- 
 night, seeing his evening draught was of the 
 strongest. But he is a kind-hearted man, and it 
 would be as much as my life's worth to let a kins- 
 man of his turn away from the door. You are the 
 good old gentleman's very picture, and I could 
 swear that was his rainy-weather hat. Also he 
 has garments very much resembling those leather 
 small-clothes. But come in, I pray, for I bid you 
 hearty welcome in his name." 
 
 So saying, the fair and hospitable dame took 
 our hero by the hand, and the touch was light 
 and the force was gentleness, and though Robin 
 read in her eyes what he did not hear in her 
 words, yet the slender-waisted woman in the scar- 
 let petticoat proved stronger than the athletic
 
 328 Black Rock. 
 
 coimtrj youth. She had drawn his half-willing 
 footsteps nearly to the threshold when thie open- 
 ing of a door in the neighborhood startled the 
 major's housekeeper, and, leaving the major's 
 kinsman, she vanished speedily into her own dom- 
 icile. A heavy yawn preceded the apearance of 
 a man who, like the Moonshine of Pyramus and 
 Thisbe, carried a lantern, needlessly aiding his 
 sister luminary in the heavens. As he walked 
 sleepily up the street he turned his broad dull 
 face on Robin and displayed a long staff spiked at 
 the end. 
 
 " Home, vagabond, home ! " said the watchman, 
 in accents that seemed to fall asleep as soon as 
 they were uttered. " Home, or we'll set you in 
 the stocks by peep of day! " 
 
 " This is the second hint of the kind," thought 
 Robin. " I wish they would end my difficulties 
 by setting me there to-night." 
 
 ISTevertheless, the youth felt an instinctive an- 
 tipathy toward the guardian of midnight order 
 which at first prevented him from asking his 
 usual question. But just when the man was about 
 to vanish behind the comer Robin resolved not to 
 lose the opportimity, and shouted lustily after 
 him:
 
 Major Molineux. 329 
 
 " I say, friend, will you griide me to the house 
 of my kinsman, Major Molineux ? " 
 
 The watchman made no reply, hut turned the 
 comer and was gone; yet Rohin seemed to hear 
 the sound of drowsy laughter stealing along the 
 solitary street. At that moment also a pleasant 
 titter saluted him from the open window alx)ve 
 his head; he looked up and caught the sparkh; 
 of a saucy eye; a round arm beckoned to him, 
 and next he heard light footsteps descending the 
 staircase within. But Robin, being of the house- 
 hold of a ~New England clergyman, was a good 
 youth as well as a shrewd one, so he resisted temp- 
 tation and fled away. 
 
 He now roamed desperately and at random 
 through the town, almost ready to believe that a 
 spell was on him like that by which a wizard of 
 his country had onoe kept three pursuers wander- 
 ing a whole winter night within twenty paees of 
 the cottage which they sought. The streets lay 
 before him strange and desolate, and the lights 
 were extinguished in almost every house. Twice, 
 however, little parties of men, among whom Robin 
 distinguished individuals in outlandish attii-e, 
 came hurrying along, but tliough on both, occa- 
 sions they paused to address him, such intercourse
 
 330 Black Rock. 
 
 did not at all enlighten his perplexity. They did 
 but utter a few words in some language of which. 
 Kobin knew nothing, and, perceiving his inabil- 
 ity to answer, bestowed a curse upon him in plain 
 English and hastened away. Finally, the lad had 
 determined to knock at the door of every mansion 
 that might appear worthy to be occupied by his 
 kinsman, trusting that perseverance would over- 
 come the fatality that had hitherto thwarted him. 
 Firm in this resolve, he was passing beneath the 
 walls of a church which formed the corner of two 
 streets when, as he turned into the shade of its 
 steeple, he encountered a bulky stranger muffled 
 in a cloak. The man was proceeding with the 
 speed of earnest business, but Robin planted him- 
 self full before him, holding the oak cudgel with 
 both hands across his body as a bar to further 
 passage. 
 
 " Halt, honest man, and answer me a question," 
 said he very resolutely. " Tell me, this instant, 
 whereabouts is the dwelling of my kinsman. 
 Major Molineux ! " 
 
 " Keep your tongue between your teeth, fool, 
 and let me pass," said a deep gruff voice, which 
 Eobin partly remembered. " Let me pass, I say, 
 or I'll strike you to the earth ! "
 
 Major Molineux. 331 
 
 " "No, no, neighbor ! " cried Robin, flourishing 
 his cudgel, and then thrusting its larger end close 
 to the man's muffled face. " Xc, no, I'm not the 
 fool jou take me for, nor do you pass till I have 
 an answer to my question. Whereabouts is the 
 dwelling of my kinsman, ]\IajoL' Molineux ? " 
 
 The stranger, instead of attempting to force 
 his passage, stepped back into the moonlight, un- 
 muffled his face, and stared full into that of 
 Robin. 
 
 " Watch here an hour, and Major Molineux 
 will pass by," said he. 
 
 Robin gazed with dismay and astonishment on 
 the unprecedented physiognomy of the speaker. 
 The forehead with its double prominence, the 
 broad hooked nose, the shaggy eyebrows, and fiery 
 eyes were those which he had noticed at the inn, 
 but the man's complexion had undergone a singu- 
 lar, or, more properly, a twofold, change. One 
 side of the face blazed an intense red, while the 
 other was black as midnight, the division-line be- 
 ing in the broad bridge of the nose; and a mouth 
 which seemed to extend from ear to ear was black 
 or red in contrast to the color of the cheek. The 
 effect was as if two individual devils, a fiend of 
 fire and a fiend of darkness, had united themselves
 
 332 Black Rock. 
 
 to fonn tliis infernal visage. The stranger 
 grinned in Robin's face, muffled his parti-colored 
 features, and was out of sight in a moment. 
 
 " Strange things we travellers see! " ejaculated 
 Robin. 
 
 He seated himself, however, upon the steps of 
 the church-door, resolving to wait the appointed 
 time for his kinsman. A few moments were con- 
 sumed in philosophical speculations upon the 
 species of man who had just left him ; but, having 
 settled this point shrewdly, rationally, and satis- 
 factorily, he was compelled to look elsewhere for 
 his amusement. And first he threw his eyes along 
 the street. It was of more respectable appearance 
 than most of those into which he had wandered, 
 and the moon, creating, like the imaginative 
 power, a beautiful strangeness in familiar objects, 
 gave something of romance to a scene that might 
 not have possessed it in the light of day. The 
 irregular and often quaint architecture of tlie 
 houses, some of whose roofs were broken into nu- 
 merous little peaks, while others ascended, steep 
 and narrow, into a single point, and others again 
 •were square ; the pure snow-white of some of their 
 complexions, the aged darkness of others, and the 
 thousand sparklings reflected from bright sub-
 
 Major Molineux. 333 
 
 stances in the walls of many, — these matters en- 
 gaged Robin's attention for a while, and then 
 began to grow wearisome. IS^ext he endeavored to 
 define the foi*ms of distant objects, starting away, 
 with almost ghostly indistinctness, just as his 
 eye appeared to grasp them ; and finally he took 
 a minute survey of an edifice which stood on the 
 opposite side of the street, directly in front of the 
 church-door where he was stationed. It was a 
 large square mansion, distinguished from its 
 neighbors by a balcony which rested on tall pillars, 
 and by an elaborate Gothic window communi- 
 cating therewith. 
 
 " Perhaps this is the very house I have been 
 seeking," thought Robin. 
 
 Then he strove to speed away the time by lis- 
 tening to a murmur which, swept continually along 
 the street, yet was scarcely audible, except to an 
 unaccustomed ear like his; it was a low, dull, 
 dreamy sound, compounded of many noises, each 
 of which was at too great a distance to be sepa- 
 rately heard. Robin marvelled at this snore of a 
 sleeping town, and marvelled more whenever its 
 continuity was broken by now and then a distant 
 shout, apparently loud where it originated. But 
 altogether it was a sleep-inspiring sound, and to
 
 334 Black Rock. 
 
 shake off its drowsy influence Eobin arose and 
 climbed a window-franie, that he might view the 
 interior of the church. There the moonbeams 
 came trembling in, and fell down upon the de- 
 serted pews and extended along the quiet aisles. 
 A fainter yet more awful radiance was hovering 
 around the pulpit, and one solitary ray had dared 
 to rest upon the opened page of the great Bible. 
 Had iSTature, in that deep hour, become a worship- 
 per in the house which man had builded ? Or was 
 that heavenly light the visible sanctity of the 
 place — visible because no earthly and impure feet 
 were within the walls ? The scene made Robin's 
 heart shiver with a sensation of loneliness 
 stronger than he had ever felt in the remotest 
 depths of his native woods ; so he turned away and 
 sat down again before the door. There were 
 graves around the church, and now an uneasy 
 thought obtruded into Robin's breast. What if 
 the object of his search, which had been so often 
 and so strangely thwarted, were all the time 
 mouldering in his shroud ? What if his kinsman 
 should glide through yonder gate, and nod and 
 smile to him in dimly passing by? 
 
 " Oh that any breathing thing were here with 
 me ! " said Robin.
 
 Major Molineux. 335 
 
 Eecalling his thouglits fi-om this uncomfort- 
 able track, he sent them over forest, hill, and 
 stream, and attempted to imagine how that eve- 
 ning of amhignity and weariness had been spent 
 bj his father's household. He pictured them as- 
 sembled at the door, beneath the tree, the great 
 old trcM?, which had been spared for its huge 
 twisted trunk and venerable shade when a thou- 
 sand leafy brethren fell. There, at the going 
 down of the summer sun, it was his father's cus- 
 tom to perfoTOi domestic worship, that the neigh- 
 bors might come and join with him like brothere 
 of the family, and that the wayfaring man might 
 pause to drink at that fountain and keep his heart 
 pure by freshening the memory of home. Eobin 
 distinguished the seat of every individual of the 
 little audience ; he saw the good man in the midst 
 holding the Scriptures in the golden light that 
 fell from the western clouds ; he beheld him close 
 the book, and all rise up to pray. He heard the 
 old thanksgivings for daily mercies, the old sup- 
 plications for their continuance, to which he had 
 so often listened in weariness, but which were 
 now among his dear remembrances. He per- 
 ceived the slight inequality of his father's voice 
 when he came to speak of the absent one; he
 
 336 Black Rock. 
 
 noted how his mother turned her face to the broad 
 and knotted trunk; how his elder brother scorned, 
 because the beai"d was rough upon his upper lip, 
 to j3ermit his features to be moved; how the 
 younger sister drew do^\^l a low-hanging branch 
 before her eyes; and how the little one of all, 
 whose sports had hitherto broken the decorum of 
 the scene, understood the prayer for her plajnnate 
 and burst into clamorous gTief. Then he saw 
 them go in at the door, and when Robin would 
 have entered also the latch tinkled into its place 
 and he was excluded from his home. 
 
 " Am I here or there ? " cried Robin, starting, 
 for all at once, when his thoughts had become 
 visible and audible in a dream, the long, -wide, 
 solitary street shone out before him. 
 
 He aroused himself and endeavored to fix his 
 attention steadily upon the large edifice which he 
 had surveyed before, but still his mind kept vi- 
 brating between fancy and reality; by turns the 
 pillars of the balcony lengthened into the tall 
 bare stems of pines, dwindled down to Kuman 
 figures, settled again into their true shape and 
 size, and then commenced a new succession of 
 changes. For a single moment, when he deemed 
 himself awake, he could have sworn that a \'isa2:e
 
 Major Molineux. 337 
 
 — one winch he seemed to remcmLer, jet could not 
 absolutely name as his kinsman's — was looking 
 toward him from the Gothic window. A deeper 
 sleep wrestled with and nearly overcame him, 
 but fled at the sound of footsteps along the oppo- 
 site pavement. Eohin rubbed his eyes, discerned 
 a man passing at the foot of the balcony, and ad- 
 dressed him in a loud, peevish, and lamentable 
 cry: 
 
 " Hallo, friend ! must I wait here all night for 
 my kinsman, Major Molineux?" 
 
 The sleeping echoes awoke and answered the 
 voice, and the passenger, barely able to discern 
 a fignire sitting in the oblique shade of the steeple, 
 traversed the street to obtain a nearer view. He 
 was himself a gentleman in his prime, of open, 
 intelligent, cheerful, and altogether prepossess- 
 ing countenance. Perceiving a country youth, 
 apparently homeless and without friends, he ac- 
 costed him in a tone of real kindness which had 
 become strange to Robin's ears. 
 
 " Well, my good lad, why are you sitting 
 here ? " inquired he. " Can I be of service to 
 you in any way ? " 
 
 " I am afraid not, sir," replied Eobin, des;x>nf^ 
 ingly ; " yet I shall take it kindly if you'll answ
 
 338 Black Rock. 
 
 me a single question. I've been searching half 
 the night for one Major Molineux; now, sir, 
 is there really such a person in these pai-ts, or am 
 I dreaming ? " 
 
 " Major Molineux ! The name is not altogether 
 strange to me," said the gentleman, smiling. 
 " Have you any objections to telling me the na- 
 ture of your business with him ? " 
 
 Then Robin, briefly related that his father was 
 a clergyman, settled on a small salary at a long 
 distance back in the country, and that he and 
 Major Molineux were brothei*s' children. The 
 major, having inherited riches and acquired civil 
 and military rank, had visited his cousin in great 
 pomp a year or two before, had manifested much 
 interest in Robin and an elder brother, and, being 
 childless himself, had thrown out hints respecting 
 the future establishment of one of them in life. 
 The elder brother was destined to succeed to the 
 farm which his father cultivated in the interval 
 of sacred duties ; it was therefore determined 
 that Robin should profit by his kinsman's gener- 
 ous intentions, especially as he seemed to be 
 rather the favorite and was thought to possess 
 other necessary endowments. 
 
 "For I have the name of being a shrewd
 
 Major Molineux. 339 
 
 youth," observed Robin in this part of his story. 
 
 " I doubt not you deserve it," replied his nev^ 
 friend, ^ood-naturedly ; " but pray proceed." 
 
 " Well, sir, being nearly eighteen years old 
 and well-grown, as you see," continued Eobin, 
 drawing himself up to his full height, " I thought 
 it high time to begin the world. So my mother 
 and sister put me in handsome trim, and my 
 father gave me half the remnant of his last 
 year's salary, and five days ago I started for this 
 place to pay the major a visit. But, would you 
 believe it, sir, I crossed the ferry a little after 
 dark, and have yet found nobody that would show 
 me the way to his dwelling ; only, an hour or two 
 since, I was told to wait here and Major Molineux 
 would pass by." 
 
 " Can you describe the man who told you 
 this ? " inquired the gentleman. 
 
 " Oh, he was a very ill-favored fellow, sir," 
 replied Eobin, " with two great bumps on his 
 forehead, a hook nose, fiery eyes, and, what struck 
 me as the strangest, his face was of two different 
 colors. Do you happen to know such a majn, 
 sir?" 
 
 " N'ot intimately," answered the stranger, " but 
 I chanced to meet him a little time previous to
 
 340 Black Rock. 
 
 your stopping me. I believe you may trust Ms 
 word, and that the major will very shortly pass 
 through this street. In the mean time, as I have 
 a singular curiosity to witness your meeting, I 
 will sit down here upon the steps and bear you 
 company." 
 
 He seated himself accordingly, and soon en- 
 gaged his companion in animated discourse. It 
 was but of brief continuance, however, for a noise 
 of shouting which had long been remotely audible 
 drew so much nearer that Robin inquired its 
 cause. 
 
 " What may be the meaning of this uproar ? " 
 asked he. " Truly, if your town be always as 
 noisy, I shall find little sleep while I am an in- 
 habitant." 
 
 " Wliy, indeed, friend Eobin, there do appear 
 to be three or four riotous fellows abroaid to- 
 night," replied the gentleman. " You must not 
 expect all the stillness of your native woods here 
 in our streets. But the watch will shortly be at 
 the heels of these lads, and — " 
 
 " Ay, and set them in the stocks by peep of 
 day," interrupted Robin, recollecting has own en- 
 counter with the drowsy lantern-bearer. " But, 
 dear sir, if I may trust my ears, an army of
 
 Major Molineux. 341 
 
 watclimen would never make head against sucli a 
 multitude of riotei*s. There were at least a 
 thousand voices went up to make that one shout." 
 
 " May not a man have several voices, Rahin, 
 as well as two complexions ? " said his friend. 
 
 " Perhaps a man may, but Heaven forbid that 
 a woman should ! " responded the shrewd youth, 
 thinking of the seductive tones of the major's 
 housekeeper. 
 
 The sounds of a trumpet in some neighboring 
 street now became so evident and continual that 
 Robin's curiosity was strongly excited. In ad- 
 dition to the shouts, he heard frequent bursts from 
 many instruments of discord, and a wild and 
 confused laughter filled up the intervals. Robin 
 rose from the steps and looked wistfully toward 
 a point whither several people seemed to be hast- 
 en! ug. 
 
 " Surely some prodigious merry-making is go- 
 ing on," exclaimed he. " I have laughed very 
 little since I left home, sir, and should he sorry 
 to lose an opportunity. Shall we step round the 
 corner by that darkish house and take our sihare 
 of the fun ? " 
 
 " Sit down again, sit do%vn, good Robin," re- 
 plied the gentleman, laying his hand on the skirt
 
 342 Black Rock. 
 
 of the gray coat. " You forget that we must wait, 
 here for your kinsman, and there is reason to be- 
 lieve that he will pass by in the course of a verf 
 few moments." 
 
 The near approach of the uproar had now diit- 
 turbed the neighborhood ; windows flew open on 
 all sides, and many heads, in the attire of the 
 pillow and confused by sleep suddenly broken, 
 were protruded to the gaze of whoever had leisure 
 to observe them. Eager voices hailed each other 
 from house to house, all demanding the explana- 
 tion which not a soul could give. Half-dressed 
 men humed toward the unknown commotion, 
 stumbling as they went over the stone steps that 
 thrust themselves into the narrow foot-walk. The 
 shouts, the laughter, and the tuneless bray, the 
 antipodes of music, came onward with increasing 
 din, till scattered individuals and then denser 
 bodies began to appear round a corner at the dis- 
 tance of a hundred yards. 
 
 " Will you recognize your kinsman if he passes 
 in this crowd ? " inquired the gentleman. 
 
 " Indeed, I can't warrant it, sir, but I'll take 
 my stand here and keep a bright look-out," an- 
 swered Robin, descending to the outer edge of the 
 pavement.
 
 Major Molineux. 343 
 
 A mighty stream of people now emptied into 
 the street and came rolling slowly toward the 
 church. A single horseman wheeled the corner 
 in the midst of them, and close behind him camp 
 a band of fearful wind-instruments, sending fortn 
 a fresher discord now that no intervening build- 
 ings kept it from the ear. Then a redder light 
 disturbed the moonbeams, and a dense multitude 
 of torches shone along the street, concealing bj 
 their glare whatever object they illuminated. 
 The single horseman, clad in a military dress and 
 bearing a drawn sword, rode onward as the leader, 
 and by his fierce and variegated countenance ap- 
 peared like w^ar personified : the red of one cheek 
 was an emblem of fire and sword; the blackness 
 of the other betokened the mourning that attends 
 them. In his train were wild figures in the In- 
 dian dress and many fantastic shapes without a 
 model, giving the whole march a visionary air, 
 as if a dream had broken forth from some feverish 
 brain and were sweeping visibly through the mid- 
 night streets. A mass of people, inactive except 
 as applauding spectators, hemmed the procession 
 in, and several women ran along the sidewalk, 
 piercing the confusion of heavier sounds with 
 their shrill voices of mirth or terror.
 
 344 Black Rock. 
 
 " The double-faced fellow has his eye upon 
 me," muttered Eobin, with an indefinite but an 
 uncomfortable idea that he himself was to bear a 
 part in the pageantry. 
 
 The leader turned himself in the saddle and 
 fixed his glance full upon the country youth as 
 the steed went slowly by. When Eobin had freed 
 his eyes from those fiery ones the musicians were 
 passing before him and the torches were close at 
 hand, but the unsteady brightness of the latter 
 formed a veil which he could not penetrate. The 
 ra,ttling of wheels over the stones sometimes found 
 its way to his ear, and confused trac^ of a hu- 
 man form appeared at intervals and then melted 
 into the vivid light. A moment more and the 
 leader thundered a command to halt: the trum- 
 pets vomited a horrid breath and then held their 
 peace; the shouts and laughter of the people 
 died away, and there remained only a universal 
 hum allied to silence. Right before Robin's eyes 
 was an uncovered cart. There the torches blazed 
 the brightest, there the moon shone out like day, 
 and there, in tar-and-feathery dignity, sat his 
 kinsman, Major Molineux ! 
 
 He was an elderly man, of large and majestic 
 person, and strong square features betokening a
 
 Major Molineux, 345 
 
 steady soul; but, steady as it was, Lis enemies had 
 found means to shake it. His face was' pale as 
 death and far more ghastly; the broad forehead 
 was contracted in his agony, so that his eyebrows 
 formed one grizzled line; his eyes were red and 
 wild, and the foam hung white upon his quivering 
 lip. His whole frame was agitated by a quick 
 and continual tremor, which his pride strove to 
 quell even in those circumstances of overwhelm- 
 ing humiliation. But perhaps the bitterest pang 
 of all was when his eyes met those of Eobin, for 
 he evidently knew him on the instant as the youth 
 stood witnessing the foul disgrace of a head grown 
 gray in honor. They stared at each other in 
 silence, and Eobin's knees shook and his hair 
 bristled with a mixture of pity and terror. Soon, 
 however, a bewildering excitement began to seize 
 upon his mind; the preceding adventures of the 
 night, the unexpected appearance of the crowd, the 
 torches, the confused din and the hush that fol- 
 lowed, the spectre of his kinsman reviled by that 
 great multitude, — all this, and, more than all, a 
 perception of tremendous ridicule in tlie whole 
 scene, affected him with a sort of mental in- 
 ebriety. At that moment a voice of sluggish mer- 
 riment saluted Robin's ears; he turned instinct-
 
 346 Black Rock. 
 
 ively, and just behind the corner of the church 
 stood the lantem-bearerj rubbing his eyes and 
 drowsily enjoying the lad's amazement. Then he 
 heard a peal of laughter like the ringing of silvery 
 bells ; a woman twitched his arm, a saucy eye met 
 his, and he saw the lady of the scarlet petticoat. 
 A sharp dry cachinnation appealed to his memory, 
 and, standing on tiptoe in the crowd, with his 
 white apron over his head, he beheld the courteous 
 little innkeeper. And lastly, there sailed over the 
 heads of the multitude a great broad laugh broken 
 in the midst by two sepulchral hems ; thus, " Haw, 
 haw, haw ! — hem, hem ! — haw, haw, haw, haw ! " 
 The sound proceeded from the balcony of the 
 opposite edifice, and thither Robin turned his eyes. 
 In front of the Gothic window stood the old citi- 
 zen wrapped in a wide gown, his gray periwig 
 exchanged for a night-cap which was thrust back 
 from his forehead, and his silk stockings hanging 
 about his legs. He supported himself on his pol- 
 ished cane in a fit of convulsive merriment, which 
 manifested itself on his solemn old features like 
 a funny inscription on a tombstone. Then Robin 
 seemed to hear the voices of the barbers, of the 
 guests of the inn, and of all who had made sport 
 of him that night. The contagion was spreading
 
 Major Molineux. 347 
 
 among the multitude, when all at once it seized 
 upon Robin, and he sent forth a shout of laughter 
 that echoed through the street; every man shook 
 his sides, every man emptied his lungs, but 
 Robin's shout was the loudest there. The cloud- 
 spirits peeped from their silvery islands as the 
 congregated mirth went roaring up the sky. The 
 Man in the Moon heard the far bellow. " Oho," 
 quoth he, " the old earth is f rolicksome to-night ! " 
 When there was a momentary calm in that tem- 
 pestuous sea of sound the leader gave the sign, 
 the procession resumed its march. On they went, 
 like fiends that throng in mockery around some 
 dead potentate, mighty no more, but majestic still 
 in his agony. On they went, in counterfeited 
 pomp, in senseless uproar, in frenzied merriment, 
 trampling all on an old man's heart. On swept 
 the tumult and left a silent street behind. 
 
 " Well, Robin, are you dreaming ? " inquired 
 the gentleman, laying his hand on the youth's 
 shoulder. 
 
 Robin started and withdrew his arm from the 
 stone post to which he had instinctively clung as 
 the living stream rolled by him. His cheek was
 
 348 Black Rock. 
 
 somewliat pale, and his eye not quite as lively as 
 in the earlier part of the evening. 
 
 " Will you be kind enough to show me the way 
 to the ferry 1 " said he after a moment's pause. 
 
 " You have, then, adopted a new subject of in- 
 quiry ? " observed his companion with a smile. 
 
 " Why, yes, sir," replied Robin, rather dryly. 
 " Thanks to you and to my other friends, I have 
 at last met mv kinsman, and he will scarce desire 
 to see my face again. I begin to grow weary of 
 a town life, sir. Will you show me the way to 
 the ferry ? " 
 
 " ]^o, my good friend Robin — not to-night, at 
 least," said the gentleman. " Some few days 
 hence, if you wish it, I will speed you on your 
 journey. Or, if you prefer to remain with us, 
 perhaps, as you are a shrewd youth, you may rise 
 in the world without the help of your kinsman, 
 Major Molineux." 
 
 THE END. 
 
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