My "Pardner" and I

The undisputed owners of the Peacock mine, Casey and Gibbons, the multi-millionaires, were entirely vindicated by Boast’s letter, and not a shadow of suspicion rested against them; indeed, the citizens of Gold Bluff suddenly remembered that Mr. Henry Casey and Stephen Gibbons, Esq., were most excellent gentlemen. It was astonishing to find how many “friends” flocked around them to tender their congratulations.

It was Thanksgiving night, and Vance, with the members of the Bonifield household, was seated before the open grate, where a cheerful fire burned brightly. They had been talking it all over, and the Colonel, in a subdued but satisfied way, thanked God that he had been permitted to live long enough to see a fulfillment of his life’s dream.

Both Louise and Virgie were animated and happy, and Homer Winthrop had been dilating upon Waterville’s wonderful prosperity.

Presently the door opened, and Aunt Sally came in. “Good evenin’, Mr. Gilder,” said she, in her rich Southern accent, “I ‘low this is the happiest day of our lives.”

“Yes, indeed,” replied Vance, “we owe many apologies to your brother for our seeming lack of confidence in Gray Rocks.”

She looked at him quickly over her spectacles, and replied, “Lack of confidence, Mr. Gilder? I’d like to know who lacked confidence in my brother Benjamin’s mine! Fo’ myself, I have believed from the first that Benjamin would strike it if I could only keep him workin’ away long enough.”

Vance was non-plussed, and was about to reply, when the Colonel interposed. “Yo’ see, suh,” said he, with a knowing twinkle in his eye, “I have often obse’ved to yo’ that my sisteh is a most ext’ao’dina’y person; yes, suh, most ext’ao’dina’y indeed. She has been a powehful support to me, suh, in my effo’ts.”

This seemed to partially pacify Aunt Sally. Presently she said, “I ‘spect, Mr. Gilder, yo’ are thinkin’ ‘bout a convehsation we had a few months ago in regard to sinkin’ the shaft. Of cou’se yo’ didn’t know how much strategy I had to resort to that I might keep Benjamin from getting disheartened. Of cou’se I won’t allow nobody to say anythin’ against my brother, but I ‘low he is the contrariest man livin’, I do indeed, suh. Time and again I have been fo’ced to pretend that I was opposin’ him, just to make him go on work in’ and sinkin’ that shaft, but at last it is all over with, and I’ve much to be thankful fo’ that I was spared so that I could keep on naggin’ at Benjamin and spurrin’ him up, until finally his effo’ts were rewa’ded.” Soon after, she embraced Louise and Virgie tenderly, and retired.

When she was gone, the Colonel looked up from the crackling fire, into which he had been gazing long and earnestly, and said, “I presume, Mr. Gilder, my sisteh is without question one of the greatest characters that ever lived, I do indeed, suh. I’m discoverin’, even to this day, new traits of superio’ity and strength in her. Indeed, suh, she is no o’dina’y woman. Though bawn in the South, and possessin’ in a high degree the very great refinement peculiar to our Southern ladies, yet at the same time her diplomacy in accomplishin’ great results equals the shrewdest Nawthe’n Yankee. Indeed, suh, she is a most rema’kable character; yes, suh, most rema’kable.” A little later Homer and Virgie retired, pleading weariness. “Do you know,” said Colonel Bonifield, looking up from the fire again, “since our great discovery was made, I seem to want to do all my sleeping in the mawnin’.”

“Papa,” said Louise, “is too busy thinking over and over again his great good fortune to get sleepy; but my! how late he does sleep in the morning!”

“He has justly earned,” said Vance, “the rest he claims.’

“Indeed he has,” replied Louise, approaching her father and pushing gently back his long white locks, “you are my darling old papa,” she continued in a caressing way, “and may sit up as late as you like, and sleep until noon every day if it is your wish.”

“I’ll tell yo’, Mr. Gilder,” said the Colonel, rising and standing before the fire, “this little girl of mine is bound to spoil me; yes, suh; she always did humor me eveh since I can remembeh, and she is worse now than eveh befo’ Well, well, you’ll have to excuse me until I have another pipe of tobacco.” His elegant suit of black of the latest pattern added to his dignified appearance, and made a strange contrast, Vance thought, with the miner’s garb he had worn for so many years. He pushed through the portieres that opened into the library, and Louise and Vance were left alone, for the first time since the rich discovery had been announced.

A doubt came into Vance’s mind whether he was glad of it or not. Heretofore this noble girl whom he had loved so long and patiently had been in a measure dependent upon him – now she was an heiress. He fancied he detected a restraint in her conversation that was embarrassing. His own unworthiness rose up before him, and he was engulfed in the cowardice of a lover! What if she should refuse him? Cross-cutting into a pinched-out vein would be nothing in comparison with such a disappointment. Presently, at his request, she went to the piano, and sang for him.

She sang with far more feeling than ever before. Her heart was filled with a maiden’s dearest happiness – a deep, reciprocal, unspoken love of limitless depth. Yes, with the unerring divination of a woman, she knew that Vance’s love was wholly hers. There was a love song before her, and under its cover, she would declare her own without restraint. She sang with the rapture of a mountain thrush, in notes so rich, so innocent, so plaintively low, so delightfully thrilling.

Vance listened with bated breath. There are pleasures so keen as to be painful. “I am so inferior to her,” he thought, with unselfish humility, “but to live without her is impossible.” Finally she ceased playing and turned toward him with the music of her soul radiant upon her face. A momentary silence followed.

“Louise," said Vance, and there was a tremulous rhythm in his voice, notwithstanding he tried to crush it into naturalness, “it may be news to you, but I can no more help loving you than I can help breathing.” He walked back and forth before the open grate. “Please do not look away from me,” he went on, “as if I were so unworthy – I know that well enough. I would rather love you without hope than have the unselfish devotion of all the other women of the earth at my feet.”

She had lifted her hands and covered her face. Her happiness was very great. She fears he would see it, vet he must know it, else she would be miserable.

“What I have said,” Vance went on, “may be nothing to you, but it is either life or death to me. To-morrow I shall leave Gold Bluff for ever unless you wish me to remain.” Vance stood before the open grate still and motionless, and when she looked up, she saw his face was white as marble. She rose from the piano with tear-stained cheeks, flushing pink as La France roses with morning dew-drops upon them. She came forward a few steps, and then paused. Her golden wealth of hair reflected the forelight, and made a halo about her girlish face and form. Her full red lips were parted with the tender smile of youth, purity and love. She was thinking, “I am certain of his love; I am sure of mine for him, and I will give myself entirely, yes, wholly into his keeping.” With one hand over her beating heart, she held the other toward Vance. In a moment he was by her side, and raising her hand, pressed it passionately to his lips. In the deliciousness of love’s dream, he led her to a divan and seated himself beside her. His arms stole about her, her head rested on her breast, and there a devout lover’s affection was sealed with love’s first kiss.

A moment later the portieres parted, and in the doorway stood the Colonel. His long white hair fell back from his temples, and there was a look of gladness upon his countenance. He lifted up his face toward Heaven, and in tones that were scarcely audible, said: “Such tender and sacred things of earth are sanctified in Heaven.”

Yes, again the Shuttle of Fate wove into the web of Destiny the better attributes of a manly man and the ennobling love of a gentle woman.