in a hollow of the hills-第16部分

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the　Lady　Superior；　though　she　had　translated　it　differently。　　〃You
must　not　believe　our　young　ladies　are　all　so　rude；　Don　Preble；〃　she
said　dryly；　〃though　our　dear　child　has　still　some　of　the　mountain
freedom。　　And　this　is　the　Senor　Rivers's　sister。　　But　possiblywho
knows？〃　she　said　gently；　yet　with　a　sudden　sharpness　in　her　clear
eyes；〃perhaps　she　recognized　in　your　voice　a　companion　of　her
brother。〃

Luckily　for　Key；　the　shock　had　been　so　sudden　and　overpowering　that
he　showed　none　of　the　lesser　symptoms　of　agitation　or
embarrassment。　　In　this　revelation　of　a　secret；　that　he　now
instinctively　felt　was　bound　up　with　his　own　future　happiness；　he
exhibited　none　of　the　signs　of　a　discovered　intriguer　or　unmasked
Lothario。　　He　said　quietly　and　coldly：　〃I　am　afraid　I　have　not　the
pleasure　of　knowing　the　young　lady；　and　certainly　have　never　before
addressed　her。〃　　Yet　he　scarcely　heard　his　companion's　voice；　and
answered　mechanically；　seeing　only　before　him　the　vision　of　the
girl's　bewitching　face；　in　its　still　more　bewitching　consciousness
of　his　presence。　　With　all　that　he　now　knew；　or　thought　he　knew；
came　a　strange　delicacy　of　asking　further　questions；　a　vague　fear
of　compromising　HER；　a　quick　impatience　of　his　present　deception；
even　his　whole　quest　of　her　seemed　now　to　be　a　profanation；　for
which　he　must　ask　her　forgiveness。　　He　longed　to　be　alone　to
recover　himself。　　Even　the　temptation　to　linger　on　some　pretext；
and　wait　for　her　return　and　another　glance　from　her　joyous　eyes；
was　not　as　strong　as　his　conviction　of　the　necessity　of　cooler
thought　and　action。　　He　had　met　his　fate　that　morning；　for　good　or
ill；　that　was　all　he　knew。　　As　soon　as　he　could　decently　retire；　he
thanked　the　Lady　Superior；　promised　to　communicate　with　her　later；
and　taking　leave　of　Father　Cipriano；　found　himself　again　in　the
street。

Who　was　she；　what　was　she；　and　what　meant　her　joyous　recognition　of
him？　　It　is　to　be　feared　that　it　was　the　last　question　that
affected　him　most；　now　that　he　felt　that　he　must　have　really　loved
her　from　the　first。　　Had　she　really　seen　him　before；　and　had　been
as　mysteriously　impressed　as　he　was？　　It　was　not　the　reflection　of
a　conceited　man；　for　Key　had　not　that　kind　of　vanity；　and　he　had
already　touched　the　humility　that　is　at　the　base　of　any　genuine
passion。　　But　he　would　not　think　of　that　now。　　He　had　established
the　identity　of　the　other　woman；　as　being　her　companion　in　the
house　in　the　hollow　on　that　eventful　night；　but　it　was　HER　profile
that　he　had　seen　at　the　window。　　The　mysterious　brother　Rivers
might　have　been　one　of　the　robbers；perhaps　the　one　who
accompanied　Mrs。　Barker　to　San　Jose。　　But　it　was　plain　that　the
young　girl　had　no　complicity　with　the　actions　of　the　gang；　whatever
might　have　been　her　companion's　confederation。　　In　the　prescience
of　a　true　lover；　he　knew　that　she　must　have　been　deceived　and　kept
in　utter　ignorance　of　it。　　There　was　no　look　of　it　in　her　lovely；
guileless　eyes；　her　very　impulsiveness　and　ingenuousness　would　have
long　since　betrayed　the　secret。　　Was　it　left　for　him；　at　this　very
outset　of　his　passion；　to　be　the　one　to　tell　her？　　Could　he　bear　to
see　those　frank；　beautiful　eyes　dimmed　with　shame　and　sorrow？　　His
own　grew　moist。　　Another　idea　began　to　haunt　him。　　Would　it　not　be
wiser；　even　more　manly；　for　hima　man　over　twice　her　yearsto
leave　her　alone　with　her　secret；　and　so　pass　out　of　her　innocent
young　life　as　chancefully　as　he　had　entered　it？　　But　was　it
altogether　chanceful？　　Was　there　not　in　her　innocent　happiness　in
him　a　recognition　of　something　in　him　better　than　he　had　dared　to
think　himself？　　It　was　the　last　conceit　of　the　humility　of　love。

He　reached　his　hotel　at　last；　unresolved；　perplexed；　yet　singularly
happy。　　The　clerk　handed　him；　in　passing；　a　business…looking
letter；　formally　addressed。　　Without　opening　it；　he　took　it　to　his
room；　and　throwing　himself　listlessly　on　a　chair　by　the　window
again　tried　to　think。　　But　the　atmosphere　of　his　room　only　recalled
to　him　the　mysterious　gift　he　had　found　the　day　before　on　his
pillow。　　He　felt　now　with　a　thrill　that　it　must　have　been　from　HER。
How　did　she　convey　it　there？　　She　would　not　have　intrusted　it　to
Mrs。　Barker。　　The　idea　struck　him　now　as　distastefully　as　it　seemed
improbable。　　Perhaps　she　had　been　here　herself　with　her　companion
the　convent　sometimes　made　that　concession　to　a　relative　or　well…
known　friend。　　He　recalled　the　fact　that　he　had　seen　Mrs。　Barker
enter　the　hotel　alone；　after　the　incident　of　the　opening　door；
while　he　was　leaning　over　the　balustrade。　　It　was　SHE　who　was　alone
THEN；　and　had　recognized　his　voice；　and　he　had　not　known　it。　　She
was　out　again　to…day　with　the　procession。　　A　sudden　idea　struck
him。　　He　glanced　quickly　at　the　letter　in　his　hand；　and　hurriedly
opened　it。　　It　contained　only　three　lines；　in　a　large　formal　hand；
but　they　sent　the　swift　blood　to　his　cheeks。

〃I　heard　your　voice　to…day　for　the　third　time。　　I　want　to　hear　it
again。　　I　will　come　at　dusk。　　Do　not　go　out　until　then。〃

He　sat　stupefied。　　Was　it　madness；　audacity；　or　a　trick？　　He
summoned　the　waiter。　　The　letter　had　been　left　by　a　boy　from　the
confectioner's　shop　in　the　next　block。　　He　remembered　it　of　old；a
resort　for　the　young　ladies　of　the　convent。　　Nothing　was　easier
than　conveying　a　letter　in　that　way。　　He　remembered　with　a　shock　of
disillusion　and　disgust　that　it　was　a　common　device　of　silly　but
innocent　assignation。　　Was　he　to　be　the　ridiculous　accomplice　of　a
schoolgirl's　extravagant　escapade；　or　the　deluded　victim　of　some
infamous　plot　of　her　infamous　companion？　　He　could　not　believe
either；　yet　he　could　not　check　a　certain　revulsion　of　feeling
towards　her；　which　only　a　moment　ago　he　would　have　believed
impossible。

Yet　whatever　was　her　purpose；　he　must　prevent　her　coming　there　at
any　hazard。　　Her　visit　would　be　the　culmination　of　her　folly；　or
the　success　of　any　plot。　　Even　while　he　was　fully　conscious　of　the
material　effect　of　any　scandal　and　exposure　to　her；　even　while　he
was　incensed　and　disillusionized　at　her　unexpected　audacity；　he　was
unusually　stirred　with　the　conviction　that　she　was　wronging
herself；　and　that　more　than　ever　she　demanded　his　help　and　his
consideration。　　Still　she　must　not　come。　　But　how　was　he　to　prevent
her？　　It　wanted　but　an　hour　of　dusk。　　Even　if　he　could　again
penetrate　the　convent　on　some　pretext　at　that　inaccessible　hour　for
visitors；twilight；how　could　he　communicate　with　her？　　He　might
intercept　her　on　the　way；　and　persuade　her　to　return；　but　she　must
be　kept　from　entering　the　hotel。

He　seized　his　hat　and　rushed　downstairs。　　But　here　another
difficulty　beset　him。　　It　was　easy　enough　to　take　the　ordinary　road
to　the　convent；　but　would　SHE　follow　that　public　one　in　what　must
be　a　surreptitious　escape？　　And　might　she　not　have　eluded　the
procession　that　morning；　and　even　now　be　concealed　somewhere；
waiting　for　the　darkness　to　make　her　visit。　　He　concluded　to　patrol
the　block　next　to　the　hotel；　yet　near　enough　to　intercept　her
before　she　reached　it；　until　the　hour　came。　　The　time　passed
slowly。　　He　loitered　before　shop　windows；　or　entered　and　made
purchases；　with　his　eye　on　the　street。　　The　figure　of　a　pretty
girl；and　there　were　many；the　fluttering　ribbons　on　a　distant
hat；　or　the　flashing　of　a　cambric　skirt　around　the　corner　sent　a
nervous　thrill　through　him。　　The　reflection　of　his　grave；
abstracted　face　against　a　shop　window；　or　the　announcement　of　the
workings　of　his　own　mine　on　a　bulletin　board；　in　its　incongruity
with　his　present　occupation；　gave　him　an　hysterical　impulse　to
laugh。　　The　shadows　were　already　gathering；　when　he　saw　a　slender；
graceful　figure　disappear　in　the　confectioner's　shop　on　the　block
below。　　In　his　elaborate　precautions；　he　had　overlooked　that　common
trysting　spot。　　He　hurried　thither；　and　entered。　　The　object　of　his
search　was　not　there；　and　he　was　compelled　to　make　a　shamefaced；
awkward　survey　of　the　tables　in　an　inner　refreshment　saloon　to
satisfy　himself。　　Any　one　of　the　pretty　girls　seated　there　might
have　been　the　one　who　had　just　entered；　but　none　was　the　one　he
sought。　　He　hurried　into　the　street　again；he　had　wasted　a
precious　moment；and　resumed　his　watch。　　The　sun　had　sunk；　the
Angelus　had　rung　out　of　a　chapel　belfry；　and　shadows　were　darkening
the　vista　of　the　Alameda。　　She　had　not　come。　　Perhaps　she　had
thought　better　of　it；　perhaps　she　had　been　prevented；　perhaps　the
whole　appointment　had　been　only　a　trick　of　some　day…scholars；　who
were　laughing　at　him　behind　some　window。　　In　proportion　as　he
became　convinced　that　she　was　not　coming；　he　was　conscious　of　a
keen　despair　growing　in　his　heart；　and　a　sickening　remorse　that　he
had　ever　thought　of　preventing　her。　　And　when　he　at　last
reluctantly　reentered　the　hotel；　he　was　as　miserable　over　the
conviction　that　she　was　not　coming　as　he　had　been　at　her　expected
arrival。　　The　porter　met　him　hurriedly　in　the　hall。

〃Sister　Seraphina　of　the　Sacred　Heart　has　been　here；　in　a　hurry　to
see　you　on　a　matter　of　importance；〃　he　said；　eyeing　Key　somewhat
curiously。　　〃She　would　not　wait　in　the　public　parlor；　as　she　said
her　business　was　confidential；　so　I　have　put　her　in　a　private
sitting…room　on　your　floor。〃

Key　felt　the　blood　leave　his　cheeks。　　The　secret　was　out　for　all
his　precaution。　　The　Lady　Superior　had　discovered　the　girl's
flight；or　her　attempt。　　One　of　the　governing　sisterhood　was　here
to　arraign　him　for　it；　or　at　least　prevent　an　open　scandal。　　Yet　he
was　resolved；　and　seizing　this　last　straw；　he　hurriedly　mounted　the
stairs；　determined　to　do　battle　at　any　risk　for　the　girl's　safety；
and　to　perjure　himself　to　any　extent。

She　was　standing　in　the　room　by　the　window。　　The　light　fell　upon
the　coarse　serge　dress　with　its　white　facings；　on　the　single　girdle
that　scarcely　defined　the　formless　waist；　on　the　huge　crucifix　that
dangled　ungracefully　almost　to　her　knees；　on　the　hideous；　white…
winged　coif　that；　with　the　coarse　but　dense　white　veil；　was　itself
a　renunciation　of　all　human　vanity。　　It　was　a　figure　he　remembered
well　as　a　boy；　and　even　in　his　excitement　and　half　resentment
touched　him　now；　as　when　a　boy；　with　a　sense　of　its　pathetic
isolation。　　His　head　bo