Miss Sampson gasped7 when she saw him and both her hands flew to her breast.
"Girls, don't make any noise," I whispered. "I'd rather he didn't wake suddenly to find you here. Go round behind the rocks there. I'll wake him, and call you presently."
They complied with my wish, and I stepped down to Steele and gave him a little shake. He awoke instantly.
"Hello!" I said, "Want a drink?"
"Water or champagne8?" he inquired.
I stared at him. "I've some champagne behind the rocks," I added.
"Water, you locoed son of a gun!"
He looked about as thirsty as a desert coyote; also, he looked flighty. I was reaching for the canteen when I happened to think what pleasure it would be to Miss Sampson to minister to him, and I drew back. "Wait a little." Then with an effort I plunged9. "Vaughn, listen. Miss Sampson and Sally are here."
I thought he was going to jump up, he started so violently, and I pressed him back.
"She—Why, she's been here all the time—Russ, you haven't double-crossed me?"
"Steele!" I exclaimed. He was certainly out of his head.
"Pure accident, old man."
He appeared to be half stunned10, yet an eager, strange, haunting look shone in his eyes. "Fool!" he exclaimed.
"Can't you make the ordeal11 easier for her?" I asked.
"This'll be hard on Diane. She's got to be told things!"
"Ah!" breathed Steele, sinking back. "Make it easier for her—Russ, you're a damned schemer. You have given me the double-cross. You have and she's going to."
"We're in bad, both of us," I replied thickly. "I've ideas, crazy enough maybe. I'm between the devil and the deep sea, I tell you. I'm about ready to show yellow. All the same, I say, see Miss Sampson and talk to her, even if you can't talk straight."
"All right, Russ," he replied hurriedly. "But, God, man, don't I look a sight! All this dirt and blood!"
"Well, old man, if she takes that bungled13 mug of yours in her lap, you can be sure you're loved. You needn't jump out of your boots! Brace14 up now, for I'm going to bring the girls." As I got up to go I heard him groan15. I went round behind the stones and found the girls. "Come on," I said. "He's awake now, but a little queer. Feverish16. He gets that way sometimes. It won't last long." I led Miss Sampson and Sally back into the shade of our little camp glade.
Steele had gotten worse all in a moment. Also, the fool had pulled the bandage off his head; his wound had begun to bleed anew, and the flies were paying no attention to his weak efforts to brush them away. His head rolled as we reached his side, and his eyes were certainly wild and wonderful and devouring17 enough. "Who's that?" he demanded.
"Easy there, old man," I replied. "I've brought the girls." Miss Sampson shook like a leaf in the wind.
"So you've come to see me die?" asked Steele in a deep and hollow voice. Miss Sampson gave me a lightning glance of terror.
"He's only off his head," I said. "Soon as we wash and bathe his head, cool his temperature, he'll be all right."
"Oh!" cried Miss Sampson, and dropped to her knees, flinging her gloves aside. She lifted Steele's head into her lap. When I saw her tears falling upon his face I felt worse than a villain18. She bent19 over him for a moment, and one of the tender hands at his cheeks met the flow of fresh blood and did not shrink. "Sally," she said, "bring the scarf out of my coat. There's a veil too. Bring that. Russ, you get me some water—pour some in the pan there."
"Water!" whispered Steele.
She gave him a drink. Sally came with the scarf and veil, and then she backed away to the stone, and sat there. The sight of blood had made her a little pale and weak. Miss Sampson's hands trembled and her tears still fell, but neither interfered20 with her tender and skillful dressing21 of that bullet wound.
Steele certainly said a lot of crazy things. "But why'd you come—why're you so good—when you don't love me?"
"Oh, but—I do—love you," whispered Miss Sampson brokenly.
"How do I know?"
"I am here. I tell you."
There was a silence, during which she kept on bathing his head, and he kept on watching her. "Diane!" he broke out suddenly.
"Yes—yes."
"That won't stop the pain in my head."
"Oh, I hope so."
"Kiss me—that will," he whispered. She obeyed as a child might have, and kissed his damp forehead close to the red furrow22 where the bullet cut.
"Not there," Steele whispered.
Then blindly, as if drawn23 by a magnet, she bent to his lips. I could not turn away my head, though my instincts were delicate enough. I believe that kiss was the first kiss of love for both Diane Sampson and Vaughn Steele. It was so strange and so long, and somehow beautiful. Steele looked rapt. I could only see the side of Diane's face, and that was white, like snow. After she raised her head she seemed unable, for a moment, to take up her task where it had been broken off, and Steele lay as if he really were dead. Here I got up, and seating myself beside Sally, I put an arm around her. "Sally dear, there are others," I said.
"Oh, Russ—what's to come of it all?" she faltered24, and then she broke down and began to cry softly. I would have been only too glad to tell her what hung in the balance, one way or another, had I known. But surely, catastrophe25! Then I heard Steele's voice again and its huskiness, its different tone, made me fearful, made me strain my ears when I tried, or thought I tried, not to listen.
"Diane, you know how hard my duty is, don't you?"
"Yes, I know—I think I know."
"You've guessed—about your father?"
"I've seen all along you must clash. But it needn't be so bad. If I can only bring you two together—Ah! please don't speak any more. You're excited now, just not yourself."
"No, listen. We must clash, your father and I. Diane, he's not—"
"Not what he seems! Oh, I know, to my sorrow."
"What do you know?" She seemed drawn by a will stronger than her own. "To my shame I know. He has been greedy, crafty26, unscrupulous—dishonest."
"Diane, if he were only that! That wouldn't make my duty torture. That wouldn't ruin your life. Dear, sweet girl, forgive me—your father's—"
"Hush27, Vaughn. You're growing excited. It will not do. Please—please—"
"Diane, your father's—chief of this—gang that I came to break up."
"My God, hear him! How dare you—Oh, Vaughn, poor, poor boy, you're out of your mind! Sally, Russ, what shall we do? He's worse. He's saying the most dreadful things! I—I can't bear to hear him!"
Steele heaved a sigh and closed his eyes. I walked away with Sally, led her to and fro in a shady aisle28 beyond the rocks, and tried to comfort her as best I could. After a while, when we returned to the glade, Miss Sampson had considerable color in her cheeks, and Steele was leaning against the rock, grave and sad. I saw that he had recovered and he had reached the critical point. "Hello, Russ," he said. "Sprung a surprise on me, didn't you? Miss Sampson says I've been a little flighty while she bandaged me up. I hope I wasn't bad. I certainly feel better now. I seem to—to have dreamed."
Miss Sampson flushed at his concluding words. Then silence ensued. I could not think of anything to say and Sally was dumb. "You all seem very strange," said Miss Sampson.
When Steele's face turned gray to his lips I knew the moment had come. "No doubt. We all feel so deeply for you," he said.
"Me? Why?"
"Because the truth must no longer be concealed29."
It was her turn to blanch31, and her eyes, strained, dark as night, flashed from one of us to the other.
"The truth! Tell it then." She had more courage than any of us.
"Miss Sampson, your father is the leader of this gang of rustlers I have been tracing. Your cousin George Wright, is his right-hand man."
Miss Sampson heard, but she did not believe.
"Tell her, Russ," Steele added huskily, turning away. Wildly she whirled to me. I would have given anything to have been able to lie to her. As it was I could not speak. But she read the truth in my face. And she collapsed32 as if she had been shot. I caught her and laid her on the grass. Sally, murmuring and crying, worked over her. I helped. But Steele stood aloof33, dark and silent, as if he hoped she would never return to consciousness.
When she did come to, and began to cry, to moan, to talk frantically34, Steele staggered away, while Sally and I made futile36 efforts to calm her. All we could do was to prevent her doing herself violence. Presently, when her fury of emotion subsided37, and she began to show a hopeless stricken shame, I left Sally with her and went off a little way myself. How long I remained absent I had no idea, but it was no inconsiderable length of time. Upon my return, to my surprise and relief, Miss Sampson had recovered her composure, or at least, self-control. She stood leaning against the rock where Steele had been, and at this moment, beyond any doubt, she was supremely39 more beautiful than I had ever seen her. She was white, tragic40, wonderful. "Where is Mr. Steele?" she asked. Her tone and her look did not seem at all suggestive of the mood I expected to find her in—one of beseeching41 agony, of passionate43 appeal to Steele not to ruin her father.
"I'll find him," I replied turning away.
Steele was readily found and came back with me. He was as unlike himself as she was strange. But when they again faced each other, then they were indeed new to me.
"I want to know—what you must do," she said. Steele told her briefly44, and his voice was stern.
"Those—those criminals outside of my own family don't concern me now. But can my father and cousin be taken without bloodshed? I want to know the absolute truth." Steele knew that they could not be, but he could not tell her so. Again she appealed to me. Thus my part in the situation grew harder. It hurt me so that it made me angry, and my anger made me cruelly frank.
"No. It can't be done. Sampson and Wright will be desperately45 hard to approach, which'll make the chances even. So, if you must know the truth, it'll be your father and cousin to go under, or it'll be Steele or me, or any combination luck breaks—or all of us!"
Her self-control seemed to fly to the four winds. Swift as light she flung herself down before Steele, against his knees, clasped her arms round him. "Good God! Miss Sampson, you mustn't do that!" implored46 Steele. He tried to break her hold with shaking hands, but he could not.
"Listen! Listen!" she cried, and her voice made Steele, and Sally and me also, still as the rock behind us. "Hear me! Do you think I beg you to let my father go, for his sake? No! No! I have gloried in your Ranger47 duty. I have loved you because of it. But some awful tragedy threatens here. Listen, Vaughn Steele. Do not you deny me, as I kneel here. I love you. I never loved any other man. But not for my love do I beseech42 you.
"There is no help here unless you forswear your duty. Forswear it! Do not kill my father—the father of the woman who loves you. Worse and more horrible it would be to let my father kill you! It's I who make this situation unnatural48, impossible. You must forswear your duty. I can live no longer if you don't. I pray you—" Her voice had sunk to a whisper, and now it failed. Then she seemed to get into his arms, to wind herself around him, her hair loosened, her face upturned, white and spent, her arms blindly circling his neck. She was all love, all surrender, all supreme38 appeal, and these, without her beauty, would have made her wonderful. But her beauty! Would not Steele have been less than a man or more than a man had he been impervious49 to it? She was like some snow-white exquisite50 flower, broken, and suddenly blighted51. She was a woman then in all that made a woman helpless—in all that made her mysterious, sacred, absolutely and unutterably more than any other thing in life. All this time my gaze had been riveted52 on her only. But when she lifted her white face, tried to lift it, rather, and he drew her up, and then when both white faces met and seemed to blend in something rapt, awesome53, tragic as life—then I saw Steele.
I saw a god, a man as beautiful as she was. They might have stood, indeed, they did stand alone in the heart of a desert—alone in the world—alone with their love and their agony. It was a solemn and profound moment for me. I faintly realized how great it must have been for them, yet all the while there hammered at my mind the vital thing at stake. Had they forgotten, while I remembered? It might have been only a moment that he held her. It might have been my own agitation55 that conjured56 up such swift and whirling thoughts. But if my mind sometimes played me false my eyes never had. I thought I saw Diane Sampson die in Steele's arms; I could have sworn his heart was breaking; and mine was on the point of breaking, too.
How beautiful they were! How strong, how mercifully strong, yet shaken, he seemed! How tenderly, hopelessly, fatally appealing she was in that hour of her broken life! If I had been Steele I would have forsworn my duty, honor, name, service for her sake. Had I mind enough to divine his torture, his temptation, his narrow escape? I seemed to feel them, at any rate, and while I saw him with a beautiful light on his face, I saw him also ghastly, ashen57, with hands that shook as they groped around her, loosing her, only to draw her convulsively back again. It was the saddest sight I had ever seen. Death was nothing to it. Here was the death of happiness. He must wreck58 the life of the woman who loved him and whom he loved. I was becoming half frantic35, almost ready to cry out the uselessness of this scene, almost on the point of pulling them apart, when Sally dragged me away. Her clinging hold then made me feel perhaps a little of what Miss Sampson's must have been to Steele.
How different the feeling when it was mine! I could have thrust them apart, after all my schemes and tricks, to throw them together, in vague, undefined fear of their embrace. Still, when love beat at my own pulses, when Sally's soft hand held me tight and she leaned to me—that was different. I was glad to be led away—glad to have a chance to pull myself together. But was I to have that chance? Sally, who in the stife of emotion had been forgotten, might have to be reckoned with. Deep within me, some motive59, some purpose, was being born in travail60. I did not know what, but instinctively61 I feared Sally. I feared her because I loved her. My wits came back to combat my passion. This hazel-eyed girl, soft, fragile creature, might be harder to move than the Ranger. But could she divine a motive scarcely yet formed in my brain? Suddenly I became cool, with craft to conceal30.
"Oh, Russ! What's the matter with you?" she queried62 quickly. "Can't Diane and Steele, you and I ride away from this bloody, bad country? Our own lives, our happiness, come first, do they not?"
"They ought to, I suppose," I muttered, fighting against the insidious63 sweetness of her. I knew then I must keep my lips shut or betray myself.
"You look so strange. Russ, I wouldn't want you to kiss me with that mouth. Thin, shut lips—smile! Soften64 and kiss me! Oh, you're so cold, strange! You chill me!"
"Dear child, I'm badly shaken," I said. "Don't expect me to be natural yet. There are things you can't guess. So much depended upon—Oh, never mind! I'll go now. I want to be alone, to think things out. Let me go, Sally."
She held me only the tighter, tried to pull my face around. How intuitively keen women were. She felt my distress65, and that growing, stern, and powerful thing I scarcely dared to acknowledge to myself. Strangely, then, I relaxed and faced her. There was no use trying to foil these feminine creatures. Every second I seemed to grow farther from her. The swiftness of this mood of mine was my only hope. I realized I had to get away quickly, and make up my mind after that what I intended to do. It was an earnest, soulful, and loving pair of eyes that I met. What did she read in mine? Her hands left mine to slide to my shoulders, to slip behind my neck, to lock there like steel bands. Here was my ordeal. Was it to be as terrible as Steele's had been? I thought it would be, and I swore by all that was rising grim and cold in me that I would be strong. Sally gave a little cry that cut like a blade in my heart, and then she was close-pressed upon me, her quivering breast beating against mine, her eyes, dark as night now, searching my soul.
She saw more than I knew, and with her convulsive clasp of me confirmed my half-formed fears. Then she kissed me, kisses that had no more of girlhood or coquetry or joy or anything but woman's passion to blind and hold and tame. By their very intensity66 I sensed the tiger in me. And it was the tiger that made her new and alluring67 sweetness fail of its intent. I did not return one of her kisses. Just one kiss given back—and I would be lost.
"Oh, Russ, I'm your promised wife!" she whispered at my lips. "Soon, you said! I want it to be soon! To-morrow!" All the subtlety68, the intelligence, the cunning, the charm, the love that made up the whole of woman's power, breathed in her pleading. What speech known to the tongue could have given me more torture? She chose the strongest weapon nature afforded her. And had the calamity69 to consider been mine alone, I would have laughed at it and taken Sally at her word. Then I told her in short, husky sentences what had depended on Steele: that I loved the Ranger Service, but loved him more; that his character, his life, embodied70 this Service I loved; that I had ruined him; and now I would forestall71 him, do his work, force the issue myself or die in the attempt.
"Dearest, it's great of you!" she cried. "But the cost! If you kill one of my kin12 I'll—I'll shrink from you! If you're killed—Oh, the thought is dreadful! You've done your share. Let Steele—some other Ranger finish it. I swear I don't plead for my uncle or my cousin, for their sakes. If they are vile72, let them suffer. Russ, it's you I think of! Oh, my pitiful little dreams! I wanted so to surprise you with my beautiful home—the oranges, the mossy trees, the mocking-birds. Now you'll never, never come!"
"But, Sally, there's a chance—a mere54 chance I can do the job without—"
Then she let go of me. She had given up. I thought she was going to drop, and drew her toward the stone. I cursed the day I ever saw Neal and the service. Where, now, was the arch prettiness, the gay, sweet charm of Sally Langdon? She looked as if she were suffering from a desperate physical injury. And her final breakdown73 showed how, one way or another, I was lost to her.
As she sank on the stone I had my supreme wrench74, and it left me numb6, hard, in a cold sweat. "Don't betray me! I'll forestall him! He's planned nothing for to-day," I whispered hoarsely75. "Sally—you dearest, gamest little girl in the world! Remember I loved you, even if I couldn't prove it your way. It's for his sake. I'm to blame for their love. Some day my act will look different to you. Good-by!"
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1
glade
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| n.林间空地，一片表面有草的沼泽低地 | |
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lookout
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| n.注意，前途，瞭望台 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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bloody
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| adj.非常的的；流血的；残忍的；adv.很；vt.血染 | |
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blotch
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| n.大斑点；红斑点；v.使沾上污渍，弄脏 | |
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numb
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| adj.麻木的，失去感觉的；v.使麻木 | |
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7
gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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bungled
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| v.搞糟，完不成( bungle的过去式和过去分词 )；笨手笨脚地做；失败；完不成 | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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interfered
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| v.干预( interfere的过去式和过去分词 )；调停；妨碍；干涉 | |
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dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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furrow
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| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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crafty
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| adj.狡猾的，诡诈的 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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aisle
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| n.（教堂、教室、戏院等里的）过道，通道 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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blanch
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| v.漂白；使变白；使(植物)不见日光而变白 | |
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collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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frantically
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| ad.发狂地, 发疯地 | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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futile
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| adj.无效的，无用的，无希望的 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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supremely
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| adv.无上地，崇高地 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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beseeching
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| adj.恳求似的v.恳求，乞求（某事物）( beseech的现在分词 ) | |
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beseech
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| v.祈求，恳求 | |
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43
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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46
implored
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| 恳求或乞求（某人）( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ranger
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| n.国家公园管理员，护林员；骑兵巡逻队员 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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impervious
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| adj.不能渗透的，不能穿过的，不易伤害的 | |
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exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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blighted
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| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
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riveted
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| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
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awesome
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| adj.令人惊叹的，难得吓人的，很好的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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conjured
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| 用魔术变出( conjure的过去式和过去分词 )； 祈求，恳求； 变戏法； （变魔术般地） 使…出现 | |
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ashen
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| adj.灰的 | |
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wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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motive
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| n.动机，目的；adv.发动的，运动的 | |
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travail
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| n.阵痛；努力 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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queried
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| v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的过去式和过去分词 )；询问 | |
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insidious
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| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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subtlety
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| n.微妙，敏锐，精巧；微妙之处，细微的区别 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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embodied
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| v.表现( embody的过去式和过去分词 )；象征；包括；包含 | |
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forestall
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| vt.抢在…之前采取行动；预先阻止 | |
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vile
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| adj.卑鄙的，可耻的，邪恶的；坏透的 | |
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breakdown
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| n.垮，衰竭；损坏，故障，倒塌 | |
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wrench
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| v.猛拧；挣脱；使扭伤；n.扳手；痛苦，难受 | |
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hoarsely
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| adv.嘶哑地 | |
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