An hour later the candidate, Harley, and the driver were on the way to the town at which they had intended to pass the preceding night. With ample instructions and a brilliant morning sunlight there was no further trouble about the direction, and they pursued their way in peace.
The air was crisp and blowy, and the earth, new-washed by the rain, took on some of the tints1 of spring green, despite the lateness of the season. Harley, relaxed from the tension of the night before, leaned back in his seat and enjoyed the tonic2 breeze. No one of the three had much to say; all were in meditation3, and the quiet and loneliness of the morning seemed to promote musing4. They drove some miles across the rolling prairie without seeing a single house, but at last the driver pointed5 to a flickering6 patch of gold on the western horizon.
"That," said he, "is the weather-vane on the cupola of the new court-house, and in another hour we'll be in town. I guess your people will be glad to see you, Mr. Grayson."
"And I shall be glad to see them," said the candidate. A few minutes later he turned to the correspondent.
"Harley," he asked, "will you send anything to your paper about last night?"
"I have to do so," replied Harley, with a slight note of apology in his tone--this had not been his personal doing. "For a presidential candidate to get lost on the prairie in the dark and the storm, and then spend the night in a house in which only his presence of mind and eloquence7 prevent a murder, that is news--news of the first importance and the deepest interest. I am bound not only to send a despatch8 about it, but the despatch must be very long and full. And I suppose, too, that I shall have to tell it to the other fellows when we reach the town."
The candidate sighed.
"I know you are right," he said, "but I wish you did not have to do it. The story puts me in a sensational9 light. It seems as if I were turning aside from the great issues of a campaign for personal adventure."
"It was forced upon you."
"So it was, but that fact does not take from it the sensational look."
Harley was silent. He knew that Mr. Grayson's point was well made, but he knew also that he must send the despatch.
The candidate made no further reference to the subject, and five minutes later they saw horsemen rise out of the plain and gallop10 towards them. As Harley had said, a presidential nominee11 was not lost in the dark and the storm every night, and this little Western town was mightily12 perturbed13 when Mr. Grayson failed to arrive. The others had come in safely, but already all the morning newspapers of the country had published the fact that the candidate was lost, swallowed up somewhere on the dark prairie. And Mr. Grayson's instinct was correct, too, because mingled14 with the wonder and speculation15 was much criticism. It was boldly said in certain supercilious16 circles that he had probably turned aside on an impulse to look after some minor17 matter, perhaps something that was purely18 personal that had nothing to do with the campaign. Churchill, late the night before, had sent to the _Monitor_ a despatch written in his most censorious manner, in that vein19 of reluctant condemnation20 that so well suited his sense of superiority. He was loath21 to admit that the candidate was proving inadequate22 to his high position, but the circumstances indicated it, and the proof was becoming cumulative23. He also sent a telegram to the Honorable Mr. Goodnight, in New York, and the burden of it was the need of a restraining force, a force near at hand, and able to meet every evil with instant cure.
But the Western horsemen who met Jimmy Grayson--they clung to their affectionate "Jimmy"--were swayed by no such emotions. They repeated a shout of welcome, and wanted to know how and where he had passed the night, to all of which questions the candidate, with easy humor, returned ready and truthful24 replies, although he did not say anything for the present about the adventure of the old man and of the young one who was now the old one's son-in-law.
The driver took them straight towards a large and attractive hotel, and it seemed to Harley that half the population of the town was out to see the triumphant25 entry of the candidate. With all the attention of the crowd centred upon one man, Harley was able to slip quietly through the dense26 ranks and enter the hotel, where he fell at once into the hands of Sylvia Morgan. She came forward to meet him, impulsively27 holding out her hands, the light of welcome sparkling in her eyes.
"We did not know what had become of you," she exclaimed. "We feared that you had got lost in the quicksands of the river." And then, with a sudden flush, she added, somewhat lamely28, "We are all so glad that Uncle James has got back safely."
Harley had read undeniable relief and welcome in her eyes, and it gave him a peculiar29 thrill, a thrill at first of absolute and unthinking joy, followed at once by a little catch. Before him rose the square and massive vision of "King" Plummer, and he had an undefined sense of doing wrong.
"We've brought him back safely," he said, after slight hesitation31. "We spent the night very comfortably in a farm-house on the prairie."
She noticed his hesitation, and her eyes became eager.
"I do believe that you have had an adventure," she exclaimed. "I know that you have; I know by your look. You must tell it to me at once."
"We have had an adventure," admitted Harley, "and there is no reason why I shouldn't tell you of it, as in a few hours a long account of it written by me will be going eastward32."
"I am waiting."
Harley began at once with his narrative33, and they became absorbed in it, he in the telling and she in the hearing. While he talked and she listened "King" Plummer approached. Now the "King" in these later few days had begun to study the ways of women, in so far as his limited experience enabled him to do so, a task to which he had never turned his attention before in his life. But the words of Mrs. Grayson rankled34; they kept him unhappy, they disturbed his self-satisfaction, and made him apprehensive35 for the future. He had been in the crowd that welcomed Jimmy Grayson, he had shaken the candidate's hand effusively36, and now, when he entered the hotel, he found Sylvia Morgan welcoming John Harley.
"King" Plummer did not like what he saw; it gave him his second shock, and he paused to examine the two with a yellow eye, and a mind reluctant to admit certain facts, among them the most obvious one, that they were a handsome couple, and of an age. And this was a fact that did not give the "King" pleasure. He did not dislike Harley; instead, he appreciated his good qualities, but just then he regarded him with an unfriendly glance; that reality of youth annoyed him. There was a glass on the other side of the room, and the "King" looked at his own reflection. He saw a large, powerful head and broad, strong features, the whole expressing a man at the height of his powers, at the very flood-tide of his strength. But it was not young. The hair was iron-gray, and there were many deep lines in the face--not unhandsome lines, yet they were lines.
"With all his shameless youth," were the "King's" unuttered thoughts, "I could beat him at anything, except, perhaps, scribbling37. I could live and prosper38 where he would starve to death." And surging upon the "King" came the memories of his long, triumphant, and joyous39 struggle with wild nature. Then he approached the couple, and greeted Harley with the good-nature that was really a part of him. Sylvia, with shining eyes, told at second hand, though not with diminished effect, the story of the night, and "King" Plummer was loud in his applause. He did not care what criticism the supercilious might make, the act was to him spontaneous and natural.
"But I don't see why you should have been with Jimmy Grayson then," he said, frankly40, to Harley. "You are an Easterner, new to these parts, and it isn't right that just you should be along when the interestin' things happen."
Harley could not help laughing at the naive41 remark, but he liked "King" Plummer all the better for it. The "King," however, gave him no more chance to talk alone that day with Sylvia. Mr. Plummer showed the greatest regard for Miss Morgan's health and comfort, and did not try to hide his solicitude42; he was continually about her, arranging little conveniences for the journey, and introducing Idaho topics, familiar to them, but to which Harley was necessarily a stranger. The "King," with his wide sense of Western hospitality, would not have done this at another time, but in view of the close relationship between himself and Sylvia he regarded it as pardonable.
The watchful43 Mrs. Grayson saw it all, and at first she regarded the "King" with an approving eye, but by-and-by the approval changed to a frown. There was something forced in his manner; it was just the least bit unconvincing. It was clear to her that he was overdoing44 it, and in her opinion that was as bad as not doing it at all. Nor did she like the spectacle of a middle-aged45 man of affairs trying to play the gallant46; there was another manner, one just as good, that would become him more. She was impelled47 to admonish48 him again, but she restrained herself, reflecting that she had not improved matters by her first warning, and she might make them worse by her second. Nevertheless, she summoned the nominee of a great party to the American Presidency49 to a conference, and he came with more alacrity50 than he would have obeyed the call of a conference of governors.
"Then, my dear, why find fault with me because of it?" replied the mystified candidate.
"I don't find fault with you; I merely want your advice, although I know that you can have none to give."
The candidate wisely kept silent, and waited for the speaker of the house to proceed.
"Sylvia is your niece, and Mr. Plummer is your most powerful political supporter in the West," she said. "If she jilts him because of any fancy or impulse--well, you know such things can make men, especially elderly men, do very strange deeds. I speak of it because I am sure it must have been in your thoughts."
The candidate stirred uneasily.
"It is a thing that I do not like to take into consideration," he said.
"Nor do I, but it forces itself upon us."
"It is right that Harley should pay her attention. They are members of this party, and they are of an age likely to make them congenial."
"That is where the danger lies. It may not amount at present to anything more than a fancy, but a fancy can make a very good beginning."
They talked on at length and with much earnestness, but they could come to no other conclusion than to use that last refuge, silence and waiting.
Meanwhile Sylvia was enjoying herself. She was young and vigorous, and she had a keen zest53 in life. She was surrounded by men, some young, too, who had seen much of the world, and they interested her; neither would she have been human, nor of her sex, if their attentions had not pleased her; and there, too, was the great campaign throwing its glow over everything. She was gracious even to the "King," whom she had been treating rather worse than he deserved for several days. She seemed to appreciate his increased gallantry, and it was "dear old daddy" very often now, whether in the comparative privacy of the Grayson family circle or in the larger group of the young correspondents and politicians. The "King" was delighted with the change, and his own manner became easy and happy. He looked once or twice at the lady whom he considered his mentor54, Mrs. Grayson, and expected to see approval and satisfaction on her face, too, but she was stern and impenetrable, and the "King" said to himself that after all she was not so startlingly acute.
Sylvia was telling some anecdote55 of the West to her new friends, and, as the incident was rather remarkable56, she thought it necessary to have confirmation57.
"It happened before I was born, but you were there then, and you know all about it, don't you, daddy?"
"King" Plummer quickly nodded confirmation and smiled at the memory. The event had interested him greatly, and he was glad to vouch58 for its truth. He was pleased all the more when he saw the others looking at him with the respect and deference59 due to--his thoughts halted suddenly in their course and turned into another channel. Then he found himself frowning. He did not like the conjunction of "dear old daddy" and of a thing that had happened many years ago.
The "King" quietly slipped away from the party, and he noticed with intense gloom that his departure did not seem to make as much difference as it should. For a whole afternoon he was silent, and many corrugations formed temporarily in his brow, indicating resolved thought. Nor were appearances wrong, because the "King" was laboriously60 dragging himself up to the edge of a mighty61 resolution. He was physically62 as brave a man as ever walked; in early and rougher days he had borne a ready Winchester, but this emergency was something new in his experience, and naturally he hesitated at the venture. However, just after supper, when Sylvia was alone in the drawing-room of the car, he approached her. She looked up at him and smiled, but the "King's" face was set with the power of his resolve.
"Come in, daddy," she said.
The "King" did not smile, nor did he sit down.
"Sylvia," he said, "I have a favor to ask of you."
"Why certainly, daddy, anything in reason, and I know you would not ask anything out of it."
"Sylvia, I want you to promise me never to call me daddy again, either in private, as here between ourselves, or before others."
She looked up at him, her eyes wide with astonishment63.
"Why," she exclaimed, "I've called you that ever since you found me a little, little girl alone in the mountains."
"I know it, but it's time to stop. I'm no blood kin30 to you at all. And I'm not so ancient. The history of the West didn't begin with me."
The wonder in her eyes deepened, and the "King" felt apprehensive, though he stood to his guns. But when she laughed, a joyous, spontaneous laugh, he felt hurt.
"I'll make you the promise readily enough," she said, "but I can't keep it; I really can't. I'll try awful hard, but I'm so used to daddy that it will be sure to pop out just when I'm expecting it least."
The "King" looked at her moodily64, not sure whether she was laughing at him or at her own perplexity.
"Then you just try," he said, at last, yielding to a mood of compromise, and stalked abruptly out of the drawing-room.
Sylvia, watching him, saw how stiffly and squarely he held his shoulders, and what long and abrupt51 strides he took, and her mood of merriment was suddenly succeeded by one of sadness mingled just a little with apprehension65. She spoke66 twice under her breath, and the two brief sentences varied67 by only a single word. The first was "Dear old daddy!" and the second was "Poor old daddy!"
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1
tints
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| 色彩( tint的名词复数 )； 带白的颜色； （淡色）染发剂； 痕迹 | |
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tonic
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| n./adj.滋补品，补药，强身的，健体的 | |
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meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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musing
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| n. 沉思，冥想 adj. 沉思的, 冥想的 动词muse的现在分词形式 | |
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5
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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7
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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8
despatch
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| n./v.(dispatch)派遣；发送；n.急件；新闻报道 | |
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9
sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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10
gallop
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| v./n.(马或骑马等)飞奔；飞速发展 | |
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nominee
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| n.被提名者；被任命者；被推荐者 | |
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mightily
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| ad.强烈地；非常地 | |
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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14
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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15
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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16
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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17
minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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18
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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19
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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condemnation
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| n.谴责; 定罪 | |
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21
loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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inadequate
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| adj.(for,to)不充足的，不适当的 | |
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23
cumulative
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| adj.累积的，渐增的 | |
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24
truthful
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| adj.真实的，说实话的，诚实的 | |
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25
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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lamely
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| 一瘸一拐地，不完全地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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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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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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32
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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34
rankled
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| v.（使）痛苦不已，（使）怨恨不已( rankle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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36
effusively
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| adv.变溢地，热情洋溢地 | |
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37
scribbling
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| n.乱涂[写]胡[乱]写的文章[作品]v.潦草的书写( scribble的现在分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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38
prosper
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| v.成功，兴隆，昌盛；使成功，使昌隆，繁荣 | |
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39
joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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41
naive
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| adj.幼稚的，轻信的；天真的 | |
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42
solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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43
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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44
overdoing
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| v.做得过分( overdo的现在分词 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
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45
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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46
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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47
impelled
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| v.推动、推进或敦促某人做某事( impel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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48
admonish
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| v.训戒；警告；劝告 | |
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49
presidency
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| n.总统(校长，总经理)的职位(任期) | |
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50
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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51
abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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52
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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53
zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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54
mentor
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| n.指导者，良师益友；v.指导 | |
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55
anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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56
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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57
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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58
vouch
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| v.担保；断定；n.被担保者 | |
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59
deference
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| n.尊重，顺从；敬意 | |
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60
laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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61
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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63
astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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64
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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65
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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66
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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67
varied
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| adj.多样的，多变化的 | |
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