Part Two - FOUR

by Willa Cather

　　The weather was dry and intensely hot for several weeks, and then,at the end of July, thunder-storms and torrential rains broke uponthe Sweet Water valley. The river burst out of its banks, all thecreeks were up, and the stubble of Ivy Peters' wheat fields layunder water. A wide lake and two rushing creeks now separated theForresters from the town. Ben Keezer rode over to them every dayto do the chores and to take them their mail. One evening Ben,with his slicker and leather mailbag, had just come out of thepost-office and was preparing to mount his horse, when Niel Herbertstopped him to ask in a low voice whether he had got the Denverpaper.

　　"Oh, yes. I always wait for the papers. She likes to have them toread of an evening. Guess it's pretty lonesome over there." Heswung into his saddle and splashed off. Niel walked slowly aroundto the hotel for dinner. He had found something very disconcertingin the Denver paper: Frank Ellinger's picture on the society page,along with Constance Ogden's. They had been married yesterday atColorado Springs, and were stopping at the Antlers.

　　After supper Niel put on his rubber coat and started for theForresters'. When he reached the first creek, he found that thefootbridge had been washed out from the far bank and lay obliquelyin the stream, battered at by the yellow current which might at anymoment carry it away. One could not cross the ford without ahorse. He looked irresolutely across the submerged bottom lands.The house was dark, no lights in the parlour windows. The rain wasbeginning to fall again. Perhaps she had rather be alone tonight.He would go over tomorrow.

　　He went back to the law office and tried to make himselfcomfortable, though the place was in distracting disorder. Thecontinued rain had set one of the chimneys leaking, had broughtdown streams of soot and black water and flooded the stove and theJudge's once handsome Brussels carpet. The tinner had been thereall afternoon, trying to find what was the matter with the flue,cutting a new sheet-iron drawer to fit under the stove-pipe. Butat six o'clock he had gone away, leaving tools and sheets of metallying about. The rooms were damp and cold. Niel put on a heavysweater, since he could not have a fire, lit the big coal-oil lamp,and sat down with a book. When at last he looked at his watch, itwas nearly midnight, and he had been reading three hours. He wouldhave another pipe, and go to bed. He had scarcely lit it, when heheard quick, hurrying footsteps in the echoing corridor outside.He got to the door in an instant, was there to open it before Mrs.Forrester had time to knock. He caught her by the arm and pulledher in.

　　Everything but her wet, white face was hidden by a black rubber hatand a coat that was much too big for her. Streams of watertrickled from the coat, and when she opened it he saw that she wasdrenched to the waist,--her black dress clung in a muddy pulp abouther.

　　"Mrs. Forrester," he cried, "you can't have crossed the creek!It's up to a horse's belly in the ford."

　　"I came over the bridge, what's left of it. It shook under me, butI'm not heavy." She threw off her hat and wiped the water from herface with her hands.

　　"Why didn't you ask Ben to bring you over on his horse? Here,please swallow this."

　　She pushed his hand aside. "Wait. Afterwards. Ben? I didn'tthink until after he was gone. It's the telephone I want, longdistance. Get me Colorado Springs, the Antlers, quick!"

　　Then Niel noticed that she smelled strong of spirits; it steamedabove the smell of rubber and creek mud and wet cloth. Shesnatched up the desk telephone, but he gently took it from her.

　　"I'll get them for you, but you're in no condition to talk now;you're out of breath. Do you really want to talk tonight? Youknow Mrs. Beasley will hear every word you say." Mrs. Beasley wasthe Sweet Water central, and an indefatigable reporter ofeverything that went over the wires.

　　Mrs. Forrester, sitting in his uncle's desk chair, tapped thecarpet with the toe of her rubber boot. "Do hurry, please," shesaid in that polite, warning tone of which even Ivy Peters wasafraid.

　　Niel aroused the sleepy central and put in the call. "She askswhom you wish to speak to?"

　　"Frank Ellinger. Say Judge Pommeroy's office wishes to speak tohim."

　　Niel began soothing Mrs. Beasley at the other end. "No, not themanagement, Mrs. Beasley, one of the guests. Frank Ellinger," hespelled the name. "Yes. Judge Pommeroy's office wants to talk tohim. I'll be right here. As soon as you can, please."

　　He put down the instrument. "I'd rather, you know, publishanything in the town paper than telephone it through Mrs. Beasley."Mrs. Forrester paid no heed to him, did not look at him, satstaring at the wall. "I can't see why you didn't call me up andask me to bring a horse over for you, if you felt you must get to along distance telephone tonight."

　　"Yes; I didn't think of it. I only knew I had to get over here,and I was afraid something might stop me." She was watching thetelephone as if it were alive. Her eyes were shrunk to hardpoints. Her brows, drawn together in an acute angle, kepttwitching in the frown which held them,--the singular frown of oneovercome by alcohol or fatigue, who is holding on to consciousnessby the strength of a single purpose. Her blue lips, the blackshadows under her eyes, made her look as if some poison were atwork in her body.

　　They waited and waited. Niel understood that she did not wish himto talk. Her mind was struggling with something, with every blinkof her lashes she seemed to face it anew. Presently she rose as ifshe could bear the suspense no longer and went over to the window,leaned against it.

　　"Did you leave Captain Forrester alone?" Niel asked suddenly.

　　"Yes. Nothing will happen over there. Nothing ever DOES happen!"she answered wildly, wringing her hands.

　　The telephone buzzed. Mrs. Forrester darted toward the desk, butNiel lifted the instrument in his left hand and barred her way withhis right. "Try to be calm, Mrs. Forrester. When I get Ellinger Iwill let you talk to him,--and central will hear every word yousay, remember."

　　After some exchanges with the Colorado office, he pointed her tothe chair. "Sit down and I'll give it to you. He is on the wire."

　　He did not dare to leave her alone, though it was awkward enough tobe a listener. He walked to the window and stood with his back tothe desk where she was sitting.

　　"Is that you, Frank? This is Marian. I won't keep you a moment.You were asleep? So early? That's not like you. You've reformedalready, haven't you? That's what marriage does, they say. No, Iwasn't altogether surprised. You might have taken me into yourconfidence, though. Haven't I deserved it?"

　　A long, listening pause. Niel stared stupidly at the dark window.He had steeled his nerves for wild reproaches. The voice he heardbehind him was her most charming; playful, affectionate, intimate,with a thrill of pleasant excitement that warmed its slightformality and burned through the common-place words like the colourin an opal. He simply held his breath while she fluttered on:

　　"Where shall you go for your honeymoon? Oh, I'm very sorry! Sosoon . . . You must take good care of her. Give her my love. . . .I should think California, at this time of the year, might beright . . ."

　　It went on like this for some minutes. The voice, it seemed toNiel, was that of a woman, young, beautiful, happy,--warm and ather ease, sitting in her own drawing-room and talking on a stormynight to a dear friend far away.

　　"Oh, unusually well, for me. Stop and see for yourself. You willbe going to Omaha on business next week, before California. Oh,yes, you will! Stop off between trains. You know how welcome youare, always."

　　A long pause. An exclamation from Mrs. Forrester made Niel turnsharply round. Now it was coming! Her voice was darkening withevery word. "I think I understand you. You are not speaking fromyour own room? What, from the office booth? Oh, then I understandyou very well indeed!" Niel looked about in alarm. It was time tostop her, but how? The voice went on.

　　"Play safe! When have you ever played anything else? You know,Frank, the truth is that you're a coward; a great, hulking coward.Do you hear me? I want you to hear! . . . You've got a safe thingat last, I should think; safe and pasty! How much stock did youget with it? A big block, I hope! Now let me tell you the truth:I don't want you to come here! I never want to see you again whileI live, and I forbid you to come and look at me when I'm dead. Idon't want your hateful eyes to look at my dead face. Do you hearme? Why don't you answer me? Don't dare to hang up the receiver,you coward! Oh, you big . . . Frank, Frank, say something! Oh,he's shut me off, I can't hear him!"

　　She flung the receiver down, dropped her head on the desk, andbroke into heavy, groaning sobs. Niel stood over her and waitedwith composure. For once he had been quick enough; he had savedher. The moment that quivering passion of hatred and wrong leapedinto her voice, he had taken the big shears left by the tinner andcut the insulated wire behind the desk. Her reproaches had got nofarther than this room.

　　When the sobs ceased he touched her shoulder. He shook her, butthere was no response. She was asleep, sunk in a heavy stupor.Her hands and face were so cold that he thought there could not bea drop of warm blood left in her body. He carried her into hisroom, cut off her drenched clothing, wrapped her in his bathrobeand put her into his own bed. She was absolutely unconscious. Heblew out the light, locked her in, and left the building, going asfast as he could to Judge Pommeroy's cottage. He roused his uncleand briefly explained the situation.

　　"Can you dress and go down to the office for the rest of the night,Uncle Judge? Some one must be with her. And I'll get over to theCaptain at once; he certainly oughtn't to be left alone. If shecould get across the bridge, I guess I can. By the way, she begantalking wild, and I cut the telephone wire behind your desk. Sokeep an eye on it. It might make trouble on a stormy night likethis. I'll get a livery hack and take Mrs. Forrester home in themorning, before the town is awake."

　　When daylight began to break Niel went into Captain Forrester'sroom and told him that his wife had been sent for in the night toanswer a long distance telephone call, and that now he was going tobring her home.

　　The Captain lay propped up on three big pillows. Since his facehad grown fat and relaxed, its ruggedness had changed to an almostAsiatic smoothness. He looked like a wise old Chinese mandarin ashe lay listening to the young man's fantastic story with perfectcomposure, merely blinking and saying, "Thank you, Niel, thankyou."

　　As Niel went through the sleeping town on his way to the liverybarn, he saw the short, plump figure of Mrs. Beasley, like a boiledpudding sewed up in a blue kimono, waddling through the featheryasparagus bed behind the telephone office. She had already beennext door to tell her neighbour Molly Tucker, the seamstress, thestory of her exciting night.