rs.undertheandes-第4部分

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　The　next　morning　I　began　by　calling　at　her　hotel。　But　though　the　manager　of　the　theater　had　gotten　no　information　from　them；　he　had　pumped　them　dry。　They　knew　nothing。
　I　dared　not　go　to　the　police；　and　probably　they　would　have　been　unable　to　give　me　any　assistance　if　I　had　sought　it。　The　only　other　possible　source　of　information　I　disliked　to　use；　but　after　racking　my　brain　for　the　better　part　of　the　day　I　decided　that　there　was　nothing　else　for　it；　and　started　on　a　round　of　the　ticket　offices　of　the　railroads　and　steamship　panies。
　I　had　immediate　success。　My　first　call　was　at　the　office　where　Harry　and　I　were　accustomed　to　arrange　our　transportation。
　As　I　entered　the　head　clerk…or　whatever　they　call　him…advanced　to　greet　me　with　a　smile。
　〃Yes；〃　said　he　in　response　to　my　question；　〃Mr。　Lamar　got　his　tickets　from　me。　Let's　see…Thursday；　wasn't　it？　No；　Friday。　That's　right…Friday。〃
　〃Tickets！〃　I　muttered　to　myself。　And　in　my　preoccupation　I　really　neglected　to　listen　to　him。　Then　aloud：　〃Where　were　the…tickets　for？〃
　〃Denver。〃
　〃For　Friday's　train？〃
　〃Yes。　The　Western　Express。〃
　That　was　all　I　wanted　to　know。　I　hurried　home；　procured　a　couple　of　hastily　packed　bags；　and　took　the　afternoon　train　for　the　West。
　
　Chapter　III。
　A　MODERN　MARANA。
　
　My　journey　westward　was　an　eventful　one；　but　this　is　not　a　〃History　of　Tom　Jones；〃　and　I　shall　refrain　from　detail。　Denver　I　reached　at　last；　after　a　week's　stop…over　in　Kansas　City。　It　was　a　delightful　adventure…but　it　had　nothing　to　do　with　the　story。
　I　left　the　train　at　the　Rocky　Mountain　city　about　the　middle　of　the　afternoon。　And　now；　what　to　do？　I　think　I　am　not　a　fool；　but　I　certainly　lack　the　training　of　a　detective；　and　I　felt　perfectly　rudderless　and　helpless　as　I　ordered　the　taxi…driver　to　take　me　to　the　Alcazar　Hotel。
　I　was　by　no　means　sure　that　Harry　had　e　to　Denver。　He　was　traveling　with　a　bundle　of　animated　caprice；　a　creature　who　would　have　hauled　him　off　the　train　at　Rahway；　New　Jersey；　if　she　had　happened　to　take　a　fancy　to　the　place。　At　the　moment；　I　reflected；　they　might　be　driving　along　Michigan　Boulevard；　or　attending　a　matinee　at　the　Willis　Wood；　or　sipping　mint　juleps　at　the　Planters'。
　Even　if　they　were　in　Denver；　how　was　I　to　find　them？　I　keenly　regretted　the　week　I　had　lost。　I　was　sure　that　Harry　would　avoid　any　chance　of　publicity　and　would　probably　shun　the　big　hotels。
　And　Denver　is　not　a　village。
　It　was　the　beauty　of　Le　Mire　that　saved　me。　Indeed；　I　might　have　foreseen　that；　and　I　have　but　poorly　portrayed　the　force　of　her　unmatchable　fascination　unless　you　have　realized　that　she　was　a　woman　who　could　pass　nowhere　without　being　seen；　and；　seen；　remembered。
　I　made　inquiries　of　the　manager　of　the　hotel；　of　course；　but　was　brought　up　sharply　when　he　asked　me　the　names　of　my　friends　for　whom　I　was　asking。　I　got　out　of　it　somehow；　some　foolish　evasion　or　other；　and　regarded　my　task　as　more　difficult　than　ever。
　That　same　evening　I　dined　at　the　home　of　my　cousin；　Hovey　Stafford；　who　had　e　West　some　years　before　on　account　of　weak　lungs；　and　stayed　because　he　liked　it。　I　met　his　wife　that　evening　for　the　first　time；　she　may　be　introduced　with　the　observation　that　if　she　was　his　reason　for　remaining　in　the　provinces；　never　did　man　have　a　better　one。
　We　were　on　the　veranda　with　our　after…dinner　cigars。　I　was　congratulating　Hovey　on　the　felicity　of　his　choice　and　jocularly　sympathizing　with　his　wife。
　〃Yes；〃　said　my　cousin；　with　a　sigh；　〃I　never　regretted　it　till　last　week。　It　will　never　be　the　same　again。〃
　Mrs。　Hovey　looked　at　him　with　supreme　disdain。
　〃I　suppose　you　mean　Senora　Ramal；〃　said　she　scornfully。
　Her　husband；　feigning　the　utmost　woe；　nodded　mournfully；　whereupon　she　began　humming　the　air　of　the　Chanson　du　Colonel；　and　was　stopped　by　a　smothering　kiss。
　〃And　who　is　the　Senora　Ramal？〃　I　asked。
　〃The　most　beautiful　woman　in　the　world；〃　said　Mrs。　Hovey。
　This　from　a　woman　who　was　herself　beautiful！　Amazing！　I　suppose　my　face　betrayed　my　thought。
　〃It　isn't　charity；〃　she　smiled。　〃Like　John　Holden；　I　have　seen　fire…balloons　by　the　hundred；　I　have　seen　the　moon；　and…then　I　saw　no　more　fire…balloons。〃
　〃But　who　is　she？〃
　Hovey　explained。　〃She　is　the　wife　of　Senor　Ramal。　They　came　here　some　ten　days　ago；　with　letters　to　one　or　two　of　the　best　families；　and　that's　all　we　know　about　them。　The　senora　is　an　entrancing　mixture　of　Cleopatra；　Sappho；　Helen　of　Troy；　and　the　devil。　She　had　the　town　by　the　ears　in　twenty…four　hours；　and　you　wouldn't　wonder　at　it　if　you　saw　her。〃
　Already　I　felt　that　I　knew；　but　I　wanted　to　make　sure。
　〃Byron　has　described　her；〃　I　suggested；　〃in　Childe　Harold。〃
　〃Hardly；〃　said　Hovey。　〃No　midnight　beauty　for　hers；　thank　you。　Her　hair　is　the　most　perfect　gold。　Her　eyes　are　green；　her　skin　remarkably　fair。　What　she　may　be　is　unknowable；　but　she　certainly　is　not　Spanish；　and；　odder　still；　the　senor　himself　fits　the　name　no　better。〃
　But　I　thought　it　needless　to　ask　for　a　description　of　Harry；　for　I　had　no　doubt　of　the　identity　of　Senor　Ramal　and　his　wife。
　I　pondered　over　the　name；　and　suddenly　realized　that　it　was　merely　〃Lamar〃　spelled　backward！
　The　discovery　removed　the　last　remaining　shadow　of　doubt。
　I　asked　in　a　tone　of　assumed　indifference　for　their　hotel；　expressing　a　desire　to　meet　them…and　was　informed　by　Hovey　that　they　had　left　Denver　two　days　previously；　nor　did　he　know　where　they　had　gone。
　Thus　did　I　face　another　obstacle。　But　I　was　on　the　track；　and　the　perfume　of　a　woman's　beauty　is　the　strongest　scent　in　the　world　as　well　as　the　sweetest。　I　thanked　my　cousin　for　a　pleasant　evening…though　he　did　not　know　the　extent　of　my　debt　to　him…and　declined　his　urgent　invitation　to　have　my　luggage　brought　to　his　home。
　On　my　way　to　the　hotel　I　was　struck　by　a　sudden　thought：　Senor　Ramal　could　not　be　my　brother　or　my　cousin　would　have　recognized　him！　But　I　immediately　reflected　that　the　two　had　not　seen　each　other　for　some　ten　years；　at　which　time　Harry　had　been　a　mere　boy。
　The　following　morning；　with　little　difficulty；　I　ascertained　the　fact　that　the　Ramals　had　departed…at　least　ostensibly…for　Colorado　Springs。
　I　followed。　That　same　evening；　when　I　registered　at　the　Antlers　Hotel；　a　few　minutes　before　the　dinner　hour；　I　turned　over　two　pages　of　the　book；　and　there　before　me　was　the　entry；　〃Senor　and　Senora　Ramal；　Paris。〃　It　was　in　Harry's　handwriting。
　After　dinner…a　most　excellent　dinner；　with　melons　from　La　Junta　and　trout　from　the　mountain　streams…I　descended　on　the　hotel　clerk　with　questions。　He　was　most　obliging…a　sharp；　pleasant　fellow；　with　prominent　ears　and　a　Rocky　Mountain　twang。
　〃Senor　and　Senora　Ramal？　Most　assuredly；　sir。　They　have　been　here　several　days。　No；　they　are　not　now　in　the　hotel。　They　left　this　afternoon　for　Manitou；　to　take　dinner　there；　and　are　going　to　make　the　night　trip　up　the　Peak。〃
　An　idea　immediately　suggested　itself　to　me。　They　would；　of　course；　return　to　the　hotel　in　the　morning。　All　I　had　to　do　was　to　sit　down　and　wait　for　them；　but　that　would　have　been　dull　sport。
　My　idea　was　better。
　I　sought　out　the　hotel's　wardrobe…there　is　nothing　the　Antlers　will　not　do　for　you…and　clothed　myself　in　khaki；　leggings；　and　boots。　Then　I　ordered　a　car　and　set　out　for　Manitou；　at　the　foot　of　the　mountain。
　By　ten　o'clock　I　was　mounted　on　a　donkey；　headed　for　the　top；　after　having　been　informed　by　a　guide　that　〃the　man　and　the　beautiful　lady〃　had　departed　an　hour　previous。
　Having　made　the　ascent　twice　before；　I　needed　no　guide。　So　I　decided；　but　I　regretted　the　decision。　Three　times　I　lost　the　path；　once　I　came　perilously　near　descending　on　the　village　below…well；　without　hesitation。　It　was　well　after　midnight　when　I　passed　the　Half…way　House；　and　I　urged　my　donkey　forward　with　a　continual　rat…a…tat…tat　of　well…directed　kicks　in　the　effort　to　make　my　goal。
　You　who　have　experienced　the　philosophical　calm　and　superb　indifference　of　the　Pike's　Peak　donkey　may　imagine　the　vocabulary　I　used　on　this　occasion…I　dare　not　print　it。　Nor　did　his　speed　increase。
　I　was；　in　fact；　a　quarter　of　an　hour　late。　I　was　still　several　hundred　yards　from　the　summit　when　the　sun's　first　rays　shot　through　the　thin　atmosphere；　creating　colorful　riot　among　the　clouds　below；　and　I　stopped；　holding　my　breath　in　awe。
　There　is　no　art　nor　poetry　in　that　wonderful　sight；　it　is　glorious　war。　The　sun　charges　forth　in　a　vast　flame　of　inconceivable　brilliance；　you　can　almost　hear　the　shout　of　victory。
　He　who　made　the　universe　is　no　artist；　too　often　He　forgets　restraint；　and　blinds　us。
　I　turned；　almost　regretting　that　I　had　e；　for　I　had　been　put　out　of　tune　with　my　task。　Then　I　mounted　the　donkey　and　slowly　traversed　the　few　remaining　yards　to　the　Peak。
　There；　seated　in　the　dazzling　sunshine　on　the　edge　of　a　huge　boulder　near　the　eastern　precipice；　were　the　two　I　sought。
　Le　Mire's　head　was　turned　from　me　as　she　sat　gazing　silently　at　the　tumbling；　gorgeous　mass　of　clouds　that　seemed　almost　to　be　resting　on　her　lap；　Harry　was　looking　at　her。　And　such　a　look！
　There　was　no　rival　even　in　nature　that　could　conquer　Le　Mire；　never；　I　believe；　did　woman　achieve　a　more　notable　victory　than　hers　of　that　morning。　I　watched　them　for　several　minutes　before　I　moved　or　spoke；　and　never　once　did　Harry's　eyes　leave　her　face。
　Then　I　advanced　a　step；　calling　his　name；　and　they　turned　and　caught　sight　of　me。
　〃Paul！〃　cried　Harry；　leaping　to　his　feet；　then　he　stopped　short　and　stared　at　me　half　defiantly；　half　curiously；　moving　close　to　Le　Mire　and　placing　his　hand　on　her　shoulder　like　a　child　clinging　to　a　toy。
　His　panion　had　not　moved；　except　to　turn　her　head；　but　after　the　first　swift　shadow　of　surprise　her　face　brightened　with　a　smile　of　wele；　for　all　the　world　as　though　this　were　a　morning　call　in　her　boudoir。
　〃Senor　and　Senora　Ramal；　I　believe？〃　said　I　with　a　smile；　crossing　to　them　with　an　exaggerated　bow。
　I　could　see　Harry　cocking　his　ear　to　catch　the　tone　of　my　first　words；　and　when　he　heard　their　friendliness　a　grin　overspread　his　face。　He　took　his　hand　from　Le　Mire's　shoulder　and　held　it　out　to　me。
　〃How　did　you　e　here？　How　did　you　find　us？〃
　〃You　forgot　to　provide　Le　Mire　with　a　veil；〃　said　I　by　way　of　answer。
　Harry　looked