第1章

ChapterI

IThadjuststruckninefromthecuckooclockthathungoverthemantelpieceinthedining—room，whenVictorinebroughtinthehalvedwatermelonandsetitinfrontofMr.Bessemer’splate.

Thenshewentdowntothefrontdoorforthedamp，twistedrolloftheSundaymorning’spaper，andcamebackandrangthebreakfast—

bellforthesecondtime.

Asthefamilystillhesitatedtoappear，shewenttothebaywindowattheendoftheroom，andstoodthereforamomentlookingout.Theviewwaswonderful.TheBessemerslivedupontheWashingtonStreethill，almostatitsverysummit，inaflatinthethirdstoryofthebuilding.Thecontractorhadbeencleverenoughtoreversethepositionofkitchenanddining—room，sothatthelatterroomwasattherearofthehouse.FromitswindowonecouldcommandasweepofSanFranciscoBayandtheContraCostashore，fromMountDiablo，alongpastOakland，Berkeley，Sausalito，andMountTamalpais，outtotheGoldenGate，thePresidio，theocean，andeven——onverycleardays——totheFarralloneislands.

ForsometimeVictorinestoodlookingdownatthegreatexpanseoflandandsea，thenfacedaboutwithanimpatientexclamation.

OnSundaysalltheweek—dayregimeofthefamilywasderanged，andbreakfastwasamovablefeast，tobehadanytimeaftersevenorbeforehalf—pastnine.AsVictorinewaspouringtheice—water，Mr.Bessemerhimselfcamein，andaddressedhimselfatoncetohismeal，withoutsomuchasathoughtofwaitingfortheothers.

Hewasalittleroundman.Heworeaskull—captokeephisbaldspotwarm，andreadhispaperthroughareading—glass.Theexpressionofhisface，wrinkledandbearded，theeyesshadowedbyenormousgrayeyebrows，wasthatofanamiablegorilla.

Bessemerwasoneofthosemenwhoseementirelydisassociatedfromtheirfamilies.Onlyonrareandintenseoccasionsdidhispaternalspiritorinstinctsassertthemselves.Attablehetalkedbutlittle.Thoughdevotedlyfondofhiseldestdaughter，shewasapuzzleandastrangertohim.Hisinterestsandherswereabsolutelydissimilar.Thechildrenheseldomspoketobuttoreprove;whileHoward，theson，theten—year—oldandterribleinfantofthehousehold，healwaysreferredtoas"thatboy."

Hewasanabstracted，self—centredoldman，withbuttwohobbies——

homoeopathyandthemechanismofclocks.Buthehadastrangewayoftalkingtohimselfinalowvoice，keepinguparunning，half—

whisperedcommentuponhisowndoingsandactions;as，forinstance，uponthisoccasion："Nineo’clock——theclock’salittlefast.IthinkI’llwindmywatch.No，I’veforgottenmywatch.

Watermelonthismorning，eh？Where’saknife？I’llhavealittlesalt.Victorine’sforgotthespoons——ha，here’saspoon！No，it’saknifeIwant."

Afterhehadfinishedhiswatermelon，andwhileVictorinewaspouringhiscoffee，thetwochildrencamein，scramblingtotheirplaces，anddrummingonthetablewiththeirknife—handles.

Thesonandheir，Howard，wasverymuchaboy.Heplayedbaseballtoowelltobeaverygoodboy，andforthesakeofhisownself—

respectmaintainedanattitudeofperpetualrevoltagainsthisoldersister，who，asmuchaspossible，tooktheplaceofthemother，longsincedead.Underhersupervision，Howardblackedhisownshoeseverymorningbeforebreakfast，changedhisunderclothestwiceaweek，andwasdissuadedfromplayingwiththedentist’ssonwholivedthreedoorsbelowandwhohadSt.Vitus’

dance.

Hislittlesisterwasmuchmoretractable.ShehadbeenchristenedAlberta，andwascalledSnooky.Shepromisedtobeprettywhenshegrewup，butwasatthistimeinthatdistressingtransitionalstagebetweentwelveandfifteen;waslong—legged，andendowedwithalltheawkwardnessofacolt.Hershoeswerestillinnocentofheels;butonthoseoccasionswhenshewasallowedtowearhertinyfirstpairofcorsetsshewasexaltedtoanalmostcelestialpitchofsilentecstasy.Theclaspoftheminiaturestaysaroundhersmallbodywasliketheembraceofalittlelover，andawokeinherideasthatwereasvague，asimmatureandunformedasthestraightlittlefigureitself.

WhenSnookyandHowardhadseatedthemselves，butonechair——attheendofthebreakfast—table，oppositeMr.Bessemer——remainedvacant.

"Isyoursister——isMissTravisgoingtohaveherbreakfastnow？

Isshegotupyet？"inquiredVictorineofHowardandSnooky，asshepushedthecreampitcheroutofHoward’sreach.ItwassignificantofMr.Bessemer’srelationswithhisfamilythatVictorinedidnotaddressherquestiontohim.

"Yes，yes，she’scoming，"saidboththechildren，speakingtogether;andHowardadded："Hereshecomesnow."

TravisBessemercamein.EveninSanFrancisco，whereallwomenaremoreorlessbeautiful，Travispassedforabeautifulgirl.

Shewasyoung，buttallasmostmen，andsolidly，almostheavilybuilt.Hershoulderswerebroad，herchestwasdeep，herneckroundandfirm.Sheradiatedhealth;therewereexuberanceandvitalityintheverytouchofherfootuponthecarpet，andtherewasthatcleanlinessabouther，thatfreshness，thatsuggestedarecentplungeinthesurfanda"constitutional"alongthebeach.

Onefeltthatherewasstamina，goodphysicalforce，andfineanimalvigor.Herarmswerelarge，herwristswerelarge，andherfingersdidnottaper.Herhairwasofabrownsolightastobealmostyellow.Infact，itwouldbesafertocallityellowfromthestart——notgoldennorflaxen，butplain，honestyellow.Theskinofherfacewascleanandwhite，exceptwhereitflushedtoamostcharmingpinkuponhersmooth，coolcheeks.Herlipswerefullandred，herchinveryroundandalittlesalient.Curiouslyenough，hereyesweresmall——small，butofthedeepest，deepestbrown，andalwaystwinklingandalight，asthoughshewerejustreadytosmileorhadjustdonesmiling，onecouldnotsaywhich.

Andnothingcouldhavebeenmoredelightfulthanthesesloe—brown，glintinglittleeyesofherssetoffbyherwhiteskinandyellowhair.

Sheimpressedoneasbeingaverynormalgirl：nothingmorbidabouther，nothingnervousorfalseoroverwrought.Youdidnotexpecttofindherintrospective.Youfeltsurethathermentallifewasnotatalltheresultofthoughtsandreflectionsgerminatingfromwithin，butratherofimpressionsandsensationsthatcametoherfromwithout.TherewasnothingextraordinaryaboutTravis.Sheneverhadhervagaries，wasnotmoody——

depressedonedayandexaltedthenext.Shewasjustagood，sweet，natural，healthy—minded，healthy—bodiedgirl，honest，strong，self—reliant，andgood—tempered.

Thoughshewasnotyetdressedforchurch，therewasstyleinhertothepointedtipsofherpatent—leatherslippers.Sheworeaheavyblackoverskirtthatrustledindeliciousfashionoverthecoloredsilkskirtbeneath，andawhiteshirt—waist，stripedblack，andstarchedtoarattlingstiffness.Herneckwasswathedtightandhighwithabroadribbonofwhitesatin，whilearoundherwaist，inplaceofabelt，sheworethehugedog—collarofaSt.Bernard——achiclittleideawhichwasallherown，andofwhichshewasveryproud.

Shewasastrigandtrimandcrispasacrackyacht：notapinwasloose，notaseamthatdidnotfallinitspreciserightline;andwitheverymovementthereemanatedfromherabarelyperceptibledeliciousfeminineodor——anodorthatwasinpartperfume，butmostlyasubtle，vaguesmell，charmingbeyondwords，thatcamefromherhair，herneck，herarms——herwholesweetpersonality.

Shewasnineteenyearsold.

Shesatdowntobreakfastandateheartily，thoughwithherattentiondividedbetweenHoward——whowasatrociouslybad，asusualofaSundaymorning——andherfather’splate.Mr.Bessemerwasaslikeasnottoleavethetablewithoutanybreakfastatallunlesshisfruit，chops，andcoffeewereactuallythrustunderhisnose.

"Papum，"shecalled，speakingclearanddistinct，asthoughtothedeaf，"there’syourcoffeethereatyourelbow;becareful，you’lltipitover.Victorine，pushhiscupfurtheronthetable.Isitstrongenoughforyou，Papum’"

"Eh？Ah，yes——yes——yes，"murmuredtheoldman，lookingvaguelyabouthim;"coffee，tobesure"——andheemptiedthecupatasingledraught，hardlyknowingwhetheritwascoffeeortea."NowI’lltakearoll，"hecontinued，inamonotonousmurmur."Wherearetherolls？Heretheyare.Hotrollsarebadformydigestion——

Ioughttoeatbread.IthinkIeattoomuch.Where’smyplaceinthepaper？——alwayslosemyplaceinthepaper.ClevereditorialsthisfellowEastmanwrites，unbiassedbypartyprejudice——unbiassed——unbiassed."Hisvoicediedtoawhisper.

Thebreakfastproceeded，Travissupervisingeverythingthatwentforward，evengivingdirectionstoVictorineastothehourforservingdinner.ItwaswhileshewastalkingtoVictorineastothismatterthatSnookybegantowhine.

"Stop！"

"AndtellMaggie，"pursuedTravis，"tofricasseeherchicken，andnottohaveittoowelldone——"

"Sto—o—op！"whinedSnookyagain.

"AndleavetheheartoutforPapum.Helikestheheart——"

"Sto—o—op！"

"Unbiassedbyprejudice，"murmuredMr.Bessemer，"vigorousandtothepoint.I’llhaveanotherroll."

"Pa，makeHowardstop！"

"Howard！"exclaimedTravis;"whatisitnow？"

"Howard’ssquirtingwatermelon—seedsatme，"whinedSnooky，"andPawon’tmakehimstop."

"Oh，Ididn’tso！"vociferatedHoward."Ionlyheldonebetweenmyfingers，anditjustkindofshotout."

"You’llcomeupstairswithmeinjustfiveminutes，"announcedTravis，"andgetreadyforSunday—school."

Howardknewthathisoldersister’sdecisionswereasthelawsofthePersians，andfoundmeanstofinishhisbreakfastwithinthespecifiedtime，thoughnotwithoutprotest.Onceupstairs，however，theusualSundaymorningdramaofdespatchinghimtoSunday—schoolinpresentableconditionwasenacted.Ateverymomenthisvoicecouldbeheardupliftedinshrillexpostulationanddebate.No，hishandswerecleanenough，andhedidn’tseewhyhehadtowearthatlittleoldpinktie;and，oh！hisnewshoesweretootightandhurthissoretoe;andhewouldn’t，hewouldn’t——no，notifhewerekilledforit，changehisshirt.NotforamomentdidTravislosehertemperwithhim.But"verywell，"shedeclaredatlength，"thenexttimeshesawthatlittleMinergirlshewouldtellherthathehadsaidshewashisbeau—

heart.NOWwouldheholdstillwhileshebrushedhishair？"

AtafewminutesbeforeelevenTravisandherfatherwenttochurch.TheywereEpiscopalians，andfortimeoutofmindhadrentedahalf—pewinthechurchoftheirdenominationonCaliforniaStreet，notfarfromChinatown.Bynoonthefamilyreassembled.atdinner—table，whereMr.Bessemeratehischicken—

heart——afterTravishadthriceremindedhimofit——andexpressedhimselfastothesermonandtheminister’stheology：sometimestohisdaughterandsometimestohimself.

AfterdinnerHowardandSnookyforegatheredinthenurserywiththeirbelovedleadsoldiers;Traviswenttoherroomtowriteletters;andMr.Bessemersatinthebaywindowofthedining—roomreadingthepaperfromendtoend.

AtfiveTravisbestirredherself.ItwasVictorine’safternoonout.Travissetthetable，spreadingacoverofbluedenimedgedwithwhitebraid，whichshowedoffthesilverandthesetofdelft——hergreatandnever—endingjoy——togreateffect.Thenshetiedherapronabouther，andwentintothekitchentomakethemayonnaisedressingforthepotatosalad，toslicetheham，andtohelpthecook（amostinefficientIrishperson，takenononlyforthatmonthduringtheabsenceofthefamily’sbelovedandveneratedSingWo）inthematterofpreparingtheSundayeveningtea.

Teawashadathalf—pastfive.Neverinthehistoryofthefamilyhaditsmenuvaried：coldham，potatosalad，porkandbeans，cannedfruit，chocolate，andtheinevitablepitcherofice—water.

IntheabsenceofVictorine，Maggiewaitedonthetable，veryuncomfortableinheronegooddressandstiffwhiteapron.Shestoodofffromthetable，makingawkwarddabsatitfromtimetotime.Inherexcessofdeferenceshedevelopedaclumsinessthatwasbeyondallexpression.Shepassedtheplatesuponthewrongside，andrememberedherselfwithabrokenapologyatinopportunemoments.Shedroppedaspoon，shespilledtheice—water.Shehandledthedelftcupsandplatterswithanexaggeratedsolicitude，asthoughtheywereglassbombs.Shebrushedthecrumbsintotheirlapsinsteadofintothecrumb—tray，andatlast，whenshehadsatevenTravis’placidnervesinajangle，wasdismissedtothekitchen，andretiredwithagaspofunspeakablerelief.

Suddenlytherecameaprolongedtrillingoftheelectricbell，andHowardflashedagrinatTravis.Snookyjumpedupandpushedback，cryingout："I’llgo！I’llgo！"

Mr.BessemerglancednervouslyatTravis."That’sMr.Rivers，isn’tit，daughter？"Travissmiled."Well，IthinkI’ll——IthinkI’dbetter——"hebegan.

"No，"saidTravis，"Idon’twantyouto，Papum;yousitrightwhereyouare.Howabsurd！"

Theoldmandroppedobedientlybackintohisseat.

"That’sallright，Maggie，"saidTravisasthecookreappearedfromthepantry."Snookywent."

"Huh！"exclaimedHoward，hisgrinwidening."Huh！"

Andrememberonething，Howard，"remarkedTraviscalmly，"don’tyoueveragainaskMr.Riversforanickeltoputinyourbank."

Mr.Bessemerrousedup."Didthatboydothat？"heinquiredsharplyofTravis.

"Well，well，hewon’tdoitagain，"saidTravissoothingly.TheoldmanglaredforaninstantatHoward，whoshifteduneasilyinhisseat.ButmeanwhileSnookyhadclambereddowntotheoutsidedoor，andbeforeanythingfurthercouldbesaidyoungRiverscameintothedining—room.

ChapterII

FORsomereason，nevermadesufficientlyclear，Rivers’parentshadhandicappedhimfromthebaptismalfontwiththeprenomenofConde，which，however，uponAnglo—Saxontongues，hadbeenpromptlymodifiedtoCondy，oreven，amonghisfamiliarandintimatefriends，toConny.Askedastohisbirthplace——fornoCalifornianassumesthathisneighborisbornintheState——Condywaswonttoreplythathewas"bawn’n’rais’"inChicago;"but，"healwaysadded，"Icouldn’thelpthat，youknow."HispeoplehadcomeWestintheearlyeighties，justintimetoburythefatherinaliensoil.Condywasanonlychild.HewaseducatedattheStateUniversity，hadafinishingyearatYale，andafewmonthsafterhisreturnhomewastakenonthestaffoftheSanFrancisco"DailyTimes"asanassociateeditorofitsSundaysupplement.ForCondyhaddevelopedatasteandtalentinthematterofwriting.Shortstorieswerehismania.HehadbegunbyaninoculationoftheKiplingvirus，hadsufferedanalmostfatalattackofHardingDavis，andhadevenbeenaffectedbyMaupassant.He"wentin"foraccuracyofdetail;heldthatifonewroteastoryinvolvingfiremenoneshouldhave，orseemtohave，everydetailofthedepartmentathisfingers’ends，andshould"bringin"tothetaleallmanneroftechnicalnamesandcantphrases.

MuchofhisworkontheSundaysupplementof"TheTimes"wasofthehackorder——specialarticles，write—ups，andinterviews.

Aboutonceamonth，however，hewroteashortstory，andoflate，nowthathewasconvalescingfromMaupassantandhadbeguntobesomewhathimself，thesestorieshadimprovedinquality，andoneortwohadevenbeencopiedintheEasternjournals.Heearned$100amonth.

WhenSnookyhadlethimin，RiversdashedupthestairsoftheBessemers’flat，twoatatime，tossedhisstickintoaporcelaincane—rackinthehall，wrenchedoffhisovercoatwithasinglemovement，andprecipitatedhimself，panting，intothedining—room，tuggingathisgloves.

Hewastwenty—eightyearsold——nearlytenyearsolderthanTravis;

tallandsomewhatlean;hisfacesmooth—shavenandpinkallover，asifhehadjustgivenitaviolentrubbingwithacrashtowel.

Unlikemostwritingfolk，hedressedhimselfaccordingtoprevailingcustom.ButCondyoverdidthematter.Hisscarfsandcravatsweretoobright，hiscoloredshirt—bosomsweretoobroadlybarred，hiswaistcoatstooextreme.EvenTravis，assherosetohisabruptentrance？toldherselfthatofaSundayeveningapinkshirtandscarlettiewereacombinationhardlytobeforgiven.

Condyshookherhandinbothofhis，thenrushedovertoMr.

Bessemer，exclaimingbetweenbreaths："Don’tgetup，sir——don’tTHINKofit！Heavens！I’mdisgustinglylate.You’reallthrough.

Mywatch——thisbeastlywatchofmine——Ican’timaginehowIcametobesolate.Youdidquiterightnottowait."

ThenashismorbidlykeenobservationcaughtacertainlookofblanknessonTravis’face，andhisrapidglancenotednovacantchairattable，hegaveaquickgaspofdismay.

"Heavensandearth！didn’tyouEXPECTme？"hecried."Ithoughtyousaid——Ithought——Imusthaveforgotten——Imusthavegotitmixedupsomehow.Whatahideousmistake，whatablunder！WhatafoolIam！"

Hedroppedintoachairagainstthewallandmoppedhisforeheadwithablue—borderedhandkerchief.

"Well，whatdifferencedoesitmake，Condy？"saidTravisquietly.

"I’llputanotherplaceforyou."

"No，no！"hevociferated，jumpingup."Iwon’thearofit，I

won’tpermitit！You’llthinkIdiditonpurpose！"

Travisignoredhisinterference，andmadeaplaceforhimoppositethechildren，andhadMaggiemakesomemorechocolate.

Condymeanwhilecoveredhimselfwithopprobrium.

"Andallthistrouble——IalwaysmaketroubleeverywhereIgo.

Alwaysaroundmaninasquarehole，orasquaremaninaroundhole."

Hegotupandsatdownagain，crossedandrecrossedhislegs，pickeduplittleornamentsfromthemantelpiece，andreplacedthemwithoutconsciousnessofwhattheywere，andfinallybrokethecrystalofhiswatchashewasresettingitbythecuckooclock.

"Hello！"heexclaimedsuddenly，"wheredidyougetthatclock？

Wheredidyougetthatclock？That’snewtome.Wheredidthatcomefrom？"

"Thatcuckooclock？"inquiredTravis，withastare."CondyRivers，you’vebeenhereandinthisroomatleasttwiceaweekforthelastyearandahalf，andthatclock，andnoother，hasalwayshungthere."

ButalreadyCondyhadforgottenorlostinterestintheclock.

"Isthatso？isthatso？"hemurmuredabsent—mindedly，seatinghimselfatthetable.

Mr.Bessemerwasmurmuring："Thatclock’salittlefast.Icannotmakethatclockkeeptime.Victorinehaslostthekey.I

havetowinditwithamonkey—wrench.NowI’lltrysomemorebeans.Maggiehasputintoomuchpepper.I’llhavetohaveanewkeymadeto—morrow."

"Hey？Yes——yes.Isthatso？"answeredCondyRivers，bewildered，wishingtobepolite，yetunabletofollowtheoldman’smutterings.

"He’snottalkingtoyou，"remarkedTravis，withoutloweringhervoice."YouknowhowPapumgoeson.Hewon’thearawordyousay.Well，Ireadyourstoryinthismorning’s’Times.’"

Afewmomentslater，whileTraversandCondywerestilldiscussingthisstory，Mr.Bessemerrose."Well，Mr.Rivers，"heannounced，"IguessI’llsaygood—night.Come，Snooky."

"Yes，takeherwithyou，Papum，"saidTravis."She’llgotosleepontheloungehereifyoudon’t.Howard，haveyougotyourlessonsforto—morrow？"

Itappearedthathehadnot.Snookywhinedtostayupalittlelonger，butatlastconsentedtogowithherfather.TheyallbadeCondygood—nightandtookthemselvesaway，Howardlingeringamomentinthedoorinthehopeofthenickelhedarednotaskfor.

Maggiereappearedtoclearawaythetable.

"Let’sgointheparlor，"suggestedTravis，rising."Don’tyouwantto？"

Theparlorwasthefrontroomoverlookingthestreet，andwasreachedbythelonghallthatranthewholelengthoftheflat，passingbythedoorofeachoneofitseightroomsinturn.

TravisprecededCondy，andturneduponeoftheburnersincoloredglobeofthelittlebrasschandelier.

Theparlorwasasmallaffair，peopledbyafamilyofchairsandsofasrobedinwhitedrugget.Agold—and—whiteeffecthadbeenstrivenforthroughouttheroom.Thewallshadbeentintedinsteadofpapered，andbunchesofhand—paintedpinkflowerstiedupwithblueribbonsstraggledfromonecorneroftheceiling.

AcrossoneangleoftheroomstraddledabrasseaselupholdingacrayonportraitofTravisattheageofnine，"enlargedfromaphotograph."Ayellowdrapeornamentedonecorneroftheframe，whileanotherdrapeofbluedependedfromoneendofthemantelpiece.

Thepiano，uponwhichnobodyeverplayed，balancedtheeaselinanoppositecorner.OverthemantelpiecehunginagildedframeasteelengravingofPriscillaandJohnAlden;andonthemantelitselftwobisquefiguresofanItalianfisherboyandgirlkeptcompanywiththeclock，ahugetimepiece，setinaredplushpalette，thatneverwasknowntogo.Butattherightofthefireplace，andbalancingthetuftofpampa—grasstotheleft，wasaninvertedsectionofasewer—pipepaintedblueanddecoratedwithdaisies.Intoitwasthrustasheafofcat—tails，gilded，andtiedwithapinkribbon.

Travisdroppedupontheshroudedsofa，andCondysethimselfcarefullydownononeofthefrailchairswithitsspindlinggoldenlegs，andtheybegantotalk.

CondyhadtakenhertothetheatretheMondaynightofthatweek，ashadbeenhiscustomeversincehehadknownherwell，andtherewassomethingleftforthemtosayonthatsubject.Butintenminutestheyhadexhaustedit.Anengagementofagirlknowntobothofthemhadjustbeenannounced.Condybroughtthatup，andkeptconversationgoingforanothertwentyminutes，andthenfilledinwhatthreatenedtobeagapbytellingherstoriesofthesocietyreporters，andhowtheygotinsidenewsbylisteningtotelephonepartywiresfordaysatatime.Travis’condemnationofthisoccupiedanotherfiveortenminutes;andsowhatwiththisandwiththattheyreachednineo’clock.Thendecidedlytheeveningbegantodrag.Itwastooearlytogo.Condycouldfindnogoodexcusefortaknghimselfaway，and，thoughTraviswasgood—naturedenough，andmethimmorethanhalf—way，theirtalklapsed，andlapsed，andlapsed.Thebreaksbecamemorenumerousandlastedlonger.Condybegantowonderifhewasboringher.

Nosoonerhadthesuspicionenteredhisheadthanithardenedintoacertainty，andatoncewhatlittlefluencyandfreshnessheyetretainedforsookhimonthespot.Whatmademattersworsewashisrecollectionofothereveningsthatoflatehehadfailedinpreciselythesamemanner.EvenwhilehestruggledtosavethesituationCondywaswonderingiftheytwoweretalkedout——iftheyhadlostcharmforeachother.DidhenotknowTravisthroughandthroughbynow——heropinions，herideas，herconvictions？Wasthereanymorefreshnessinherforhim？Wastheirlittleflirtationofthelasteighteenmonths，charmingasithadbeen，abouttoend？Hadtheyplayedouttheplay，hadtheycometotheendofeachother’sresources？Hehadneverconsideredthepossibilityofthisbefore，butallatonceashelookedatTravis——lookedfairlyintoherlittlebrown—blackeyes——itwasborneinuponhimthatshewasthinkingpreciselythesamething.

CondyRivershadmetTravisatadanceayearandahalfbeforethis，and，becauseshewassoverypretty，sounaffected，andsogood—natured，hadfoundmeanstoseeherthreeorfourtimesaweekeversince.Theytwo"wentout"notalittleinSanFranciscosociety，andhadbeeninameasureidentifiedwithwhatwasknownastheYoungerSet;thoughTraviswastooyoungtocomeout，andRiverstoooldtofeelverymuchathomewithgirlsoftwentyandboysofeighteen.

Theyhadknowneachotherintheconventionalway（asconventionalitygoesinSanFrancisco）;duringtheseasonRiverstookhertothetheatresMondaynights，andcalledregularlyWednesdaysandSundays.Thentheymetatdances，andmanagedtobeinvitedtothesamehousesforteasanddinners.Theyhadflirtedratherdesperately，andattimesCondyeventoldhimselfthathelovedthisgirlsomuchyoungerthanhe——thisgirlwiththesmilingeyesandrobustfigureandyellowhair，whowassofrank，sostraightforward，andsowonderfullypretty.

Butevidentlytheyhadcometothelastmoveinthegame，andasCondyreflectedthatafterallhehadneverknowntherealTravis，thatthegirlwhomhetoldhimselfheknewthroughandthroughwasonlytheTravisofdinnerpartiesandafternoonfunctions，hewassuddenlysurprisedtoexperienceasuddenqualmofdeepandgenuineregret.HehadneverbeenNEARtoher，afterall.Theywereasfarapartaswhentheyhadfirstmet.Andyetheknewenoughofhertoknowthatshewas"worthwhile."Hehadhadexperience——alltheexperiencehewanted——withotherolderwomenandgirlsofsociety.Theyweresophisticated，theywereallalittletired，theyhadrunthegamutofamusements——inaword，theywerejaded.ButTravis，thisgirlofnineteen，whowasnotyetevenadebutante，hadbeenfreshandunspoiled，hadbeennewandstrongandyoung.

"Ofcourse，youmaycallitwhatyoulike.Hewasnothingmorenorlessthanintoxicated——yes，drunk."

"Hah！who——what——wh——whatareyoutalkingabout？"gaspedCondysittingboltupright.

"JackCarter，"answeredTravis."No，"sheadded.shakingherheadathimhelplessly，"hehasn’tbeenlisteningtoaword.I’mtalkingaboutJackCarterandthe’SaturdayEvening’lastnight."

"No，no，Ihaven’theard.Forgiveme;Iwasthinking——thinkingofsomethingelse.Whowasdrunk？"

Travispausedamoment，settlingherside—combsinherhair;then：

"Ifyouwilltrytolisten，I’lltellitalloveragain，becauseit’sseriouswithme，andI’mgoingtotakeaverydecidedstandaboutit.Youknow，"shewenton——"youknowwhatthe’SaturdayEvening’is.Plentyofthegirlswhoarenot’out’belong，andagoodmanyoflastyear’sdebutantescome，aswellastheoldergirlsofthreeorfourseasons’standing.Youcouldcallitrepresentativecouldn’tyou？Well，theyalwaysservepunch;andyouknowyourselfthatyouhaveseenmentherewhohavetakenmorethantheyshould."

"Yes，yes，"admittedCondy."IknowCarterandthetwoCatlinboysalwaysdo."

"Itgetsprettybadsometimes，doesn’tit？"shesaid.

"Itdoes，itdoes——andit’sshameful.Butmostofthegirls——

MOSTofthemdon’tseemtomind."

MissBessemerstiffenedabit."Thereareoneortwogirlsthatdo，"shesaidquietly."FrankCatlinhadthedecencytogohomelastnight，"shecontinued;"andhisbrotherwasn’tanyworsethanusual.ButJackCartermusthavebeendrinkingbeforehecame.

Hewasverybadindeed——asbad，"shesaidbetweenherteeth，"ashecouldbeandyetwalkstraight.Asyousay，mostofthegirlsdon’tmind.Theysay，’It’sonlyJohnnieCarter;whatdoyouexpect？’Butoneofthegirls——youknowher，LaurieFlagg——cutadancewithhimlastnightandtoldhimexactlywhy.Ofcourse，Carterwasfurious.Hewassoberenoughtothinkhehadbeeninsulted;andwhatdoyousupposehedid？"

"What？what？"exclaimedCondy，breathless，leaningtowardher.

"Wentaboutthehallsanddressing—roomscirculatingsomedirtylittlelieaboutLaurie.Actuallytryingto——to"——Travishesitated——"tomakeascandalabouther."

Condyboundedinhisseat."Beast，cad，swine！"heexclaimed.

"Ididn’tthink，"saidTravis，"thatCarterwouldsomuchasdaretoaskmetodancewithhim——"

"Didhe？did——did——"

"Wait，"sheinterrupted."SoIwasn’tatallpreparedforwhathappened.Duringthegerman，beforeIknewit，therehewasinfrontofme.Itwasabreak，andhewantedit.Ihadn’ttimetothink.TheonlyideaIhadwasthatifIrefusedhimhemighttellsomedirtylittlelieaboutme.Iwasallconfused——mixedup.IfeltjustasthoughitwereasnakethatIhadtohumortogetridof.Igavehimthebreak."

Condysatspeechless.Suddenlyhearose.

"Well，now，let’ssee，"hebegan，speakingrapidly，hishandstwistinganduntwistingtilltheknucklescracked."Now，let’ssee.Youleaveittome.IknowCarter.He’sgoingtobeatastagdinnerwhereIaminvitedto—morrownight，andI——I——"

"No，youwon’t，Condy，"saidTravisplacidly."You’llpaynoattentiontoit，andI’lltellyouwhy.SupposeyoushouldmakeascenewithMr.Carter——Idon’tknowhowmensettlethesethings.

Well，itwouldbetoldinalltheclubsandinallthenewspaperofficesthattwomenhadquarreledoveragirl;andmynameismentioned，discussed，andhandedaroundfromonecrowdofmentoanother，fromoneclubtoanother;andthen，ofcourse，thepaperstakeitup.BythattimeMr.Carterwillhavetoldhissideofthestoryandinventedanotherdirtylittlelie，andI’mtheonewhosuffersthemostintheend.Andremember，Condy，thatI

haven’tanymotherinsuchanaffair，notevenanoldersister.

No，we’lljustletthematterdrop.Itwouldbemoredignified，anyhow.OnlyIhavemadeupmymindwhatIamgoingtodo."

"What’sthat？"

"I’mnotcomingout.Ifthat’sthesortofthingonehastoputupwithinsociety"——Travisdrewalittlelineonthesofaathersidewithherfinger—tip——"Iamgoingto——stop——right——there.

It’snot"——MissBessemerstiffenedagain——"thatI’mafraidofJackCarterandhisdirtystories;Isimplydon’twanttoknowthekindofpeoplewhohavemadeJackCarterpossible.Theothergirlsdon’tmindit，normanymenbesidesyou，Condy;andI’mnotgoingtobeassociatedwithpeoplewhotakeitasajokeforamantocometoafunctiondrunk.Andasforhavingagoodtime，I’llfindmyamusementssomewhereelse.I’llrideawheel，takelongwalks，studysomething.Butasforleadingthelifeofasocietygirl——no！AndwhetherIhaveagoodtimeornot，I’llkeepmyownself—respect.AtleastI’llneverhavetodancewithadrunkenman.Iwon’thavetohumiliatemyselflikethatasecondtime."

"ButIpresumeyouwillstillcontinuetogooutsomewhere，"

protestedCondyRivers.

Sheshookherhead.

"Ihavethoughtitallover，andI’vetalkedaboutitwithPapum.

There’snohalfwayaboutit.Theonlywaytostopistostopshort.JustthisafternoonI’veregrettedthreefunctionsfornextweek，andIshallresignfromthe’SaturdayEvening.’Oh，it’snottheJackCarteraffairalone！"sheexclaimed;"thewholethingtiresme.Mind，Condy，"sheexclaimed，"I’mnotgoingtobreakwithitbecauseIhaveany’purposeinlife，’orthatsortofthing.Iwanttohaveagoodtime，andI’mgoingtoseeifI

can’thaveitinmyownway.IfthekindofthingthatmakesJackCarterpossibleisconventionality，thenI’mdonewithconventionalityforgood.Iamgoingtotry，fromthistimeon，tobejustastruetomyselfasIcanbe.Iamgoingtobesincere，andnotpretendtolikepeopleandthingsthatIdon’tlike;andI’mgoingtodothethingsthatIliketodo——justsolongastheyarethethingsagoodgirlcando.See，Condy？"

"You’refine，"murmuredCondybreathless."You’refineasgold，Travis，andI——Iloveyouallthebetterforit."

"Ah，NOW！"exclaimedTravis，withabrusquemovement，"there’smotherthingwemusttalkabout.Nomorefoolishnessbetweenus.

We’vehadajollylittleflirtation，Iknow，andit’sbeengoodfunwhileitlasted.Iknowyoulikeme，andyouknowthatIlikeyou;butasforlovingeachother，youknowwedon’t.Yes，yousaythatyoulovemeandthatI’mtheonlygirl.That’spartofthegame.Icanplayit"——herlittleeyesbegantodance——"quiteaswellasyou.Butit’splayingwithsomethingthat’squitetooserioustobeplayedwith——afterall，isn’tit，now？It’sinsincere，and，asItellyou，fromnowonI’mgoingtobeastrueandassincereandashonestasIcan."

"ButItellyouthatIDOloveyou，"protestedCondy，tryingtomakethewordsringtrue.

Travislookedabouttheroomaninstantasifindeliberation;

thenabruptly："Ah！whatamIgoingtoDOwithsuchaboyasyouare，afterall——agreatbig，overgrownboy？CondyRivers，lookatmestraightintheeye.Tellme，doyouhonestlyloveme？YouknowwhatImeanwhenIsay’love.’Doyouloveme？"

"No，Idon’t！"heexclaimedblankly，asthoughhehadjustdiscoveredthefact.

"There！"declaredTravis——"andIdon’tloveyou."Theybothbegantolaugh.

"Now，"addedTravis，"wedon’tneedtohavetheburdenandtroubleofkeepingupthepretencesanymore.Weunderstandeachother，don’twe？"

"Thisisqueerenough，"saidCondydrolly.

"Butisn’titanimprovement？"

Condyscouredhishead.

"Tellmethetruth，"sheinsisted;"YOUbesincere."

"Idobelieveitis.Why——why——TravisbyJingo！Travis，IthinkI’mgoingtolikeyoubetterthanevernow."

"Nevermind.Isitanagreement？"

"Whatis？"

"Thatwedon’tpretendtoloveeachotheranymore？"

"Allright——yes——you’reright;becausethemomentIbegantoloveyouIshouldlikeyousomuchless."

Sheputoutherhand."That’sanagreement，then."

Condytookherhandinhis."Yes，it’sanagreement."Butwhen，ashadbeenhiscustom，hemadeasthoughtokissherhand，Travisdrewitquicklyaway.

"No！no！"shesaidfirmly，smilingforallthat——"nomorefoolishness."

"But——but，"heprotested，"it’snotsoradicalasthat，isit？

You’renotgoingtooverturnsuchtime—worn，time—honoredcustomsasthat？Why，thisisaregularrebellion."

"No，sire，"quotedTravis，tryingnottolaugh，"itisarevolution."

ChapterIII

AlthoughMondaywaspracticallyaholidayfortheSunday—

supplementstaffof"TheTimes，"CondyRiversmadeapointtogetdowntotheofficebetimesthenextmorning.Therewerereasonswhyacertainarticledescriptiveofagreatwhalebacksteamertakingongrainforfamine—strickenIndiashouldbewrittenthatday，andRiverswantedhisafternoonfreeinordertogotoLaurieFlagg’scoming—outtea.

Butashecameintohisroomat"TheTimes"office，whichhesharedwiththeexchangeandsportingeditors，andsettledhimselfathisdesk，hesuddenlyrememberedthat，undertheneworderofthings，heneednotexpecttoseeTravisattheFlaggs’.

"Well，"hemuttered，"maybeitdoesn’tmakesomuchdifference，afterall.Shewasacorkingfinegirl，but——mightaswelladmitit——theplayisplayedout.Ofcourse，Idon’tloveher——anymorewhanshelovesme.I’llseelessandlessofhernow.It’sinevitable，andafterawhilewe’llhardlyevenmeet.Inaway，it’sapity;but，ofcourse，onehastobesensibleaboutthesethingsWell，thiswhalebacknow."

HeranguptheChamberofCommerce，andfoundoutthatthe"CityofEverett，"whichwasthewhaleback’sname，wasattheMissionStreetwharf.Thismadeitpossibleforhimtowritethearticleintwoways.Heeithercouldfakehiscopyfromaclippingonthesubjectwhichtheexchangeeditorhadlaidonhisdesk，orhecouldgodowninpersontothewharf，interviewthecaptain，andinspectthecraftforhimself.Theformerwastheshortandeasymethod.Thelatterwasmoretroublesome，butwouldresultinafarmoreinterestingarticle.

Condydebatedthesubjectafewminutes，thendecidedtogodowntothewharf.SanFrancisco’swater—frontwasalwaysinteresting，andhemightgetholdofaphotographofthewhaleback.Allatoncethe"idea"ofthearticlestruckhim，thecertainunderlyingnotionthatwouldgiveimportanceandweighttothemeredetailsanddescriptions.Condy’senthusiasmflaredupinaninstant.

"ByJove！"heexclaimed;"byJove！"

Heclappedonhishatwrongsideforemost，crammedasheafofcopy—paperintohispocket，andwasonthestreetagaininanothermoment.Thenitoccurredtohimthathehadforgottentocallathisclubthatmorningforhismail，aswashiscustom，onthewaytotheoffice.Helookedathiswatch.Itwasearlyyet，andhisclubwasbuttwoblocks’distance.Hedecidedthathewouldgethislettersattheclub，andreadthemonthewaydowntothewharf.

ForCondyhadjoinedacertainSanFranciscoclubofartists，journalists，musicians，andprofessionalmenthatisoneoftheinstitutionsofthecity，and，infact，famousthroughouttheUnitedStates.Hewasoneoftheyoungermembers，butwaspopularandwellliked，andonmorethanoneoccasionhadmateriallycontributedtothefunoftheclub’s"lowjinks."

Inhisboxthismorninghefoundoneletterthathetoldhimselfhemustreadupontheinstant.ItboreupontheenvelopethenameofaNewYorkpublishinghousetowhomCondyhadsentacollectionofhisshortstoriesaboutamonthbefore.Hetooktheletterintothe"roundwindow"oftheclub，overlookingthestreet，andtoreitopenexcitedly.Thefactthathehadreceivedaletterfromthefirmwithoutthereturnofhismanuscriptseemedagoodomen.Thiswaswhatheread：

CondeRivers，Esq.，BohemianClub，SanFrancisco，Cal.

DEARSIR：Wereturntoyoubythismailthemanuscriptofyourstories，whichwedonotconsiderasavailableforpublicationatthepresentmoment.Wewouldsay，however，thatwefindinseveralofthemindicationsofaquiteunusualorderofmerit.

Thebest—sellingbookjustnowistheshortnovel——saythirtythousandwords——ofactionandadventure.Judgingfromthestoriesofyourcollection，wesuspectthatyourtalentliesinthisdirection，andwewouldsuggestthatyouwritesuchanovelandsubmitthesametous.

Veryrespectfully，THECENTENNIALCO.，NewYork.

Condyshovedtheletterintohispocketandcollapsedlimplyintohischair.

"What’sthegoodoftryingtodoanythinganyhow！"hemuttered，lookinggloomilydownintothestreet."Mylevelisjustthehack—workofalocalSundaysupplement，andIamafooltothinkofanythingelse."

Hisenthusiasminthematterofthe"CityofEverett"wascoldanddeadinamoment.Hecouldseenopossibilitiesinthesubjectwhatever.His"idea"ofafewminutespreviousseemedridiculousandoverwrought.Hewouldgobacktotheofficeandgrindouthiscopyfromtheexchangeeditor’sclipping.

Justthenhiseyewascaughtbyafamiliarfigureintrim，well—

fittingblackhaltedontheoppositecornerwaitingforthepassageofacablecar.ItwasTravisBessemer.Noonebutshecouldcarryoffsuchrigoroussimplicityinthematterofdresssowell：blackskirt，blackRussianblouse，tinyblackbonnetandblackveil，whitekidswithblackstitching.Simplicityitself.

Yetthestyleofher，asCondyRiverstoldhimself，flewupandhityouintheface;andherfigure——wasthereanythingmoreperfect？andthesoftprettyeffectofheryellowhairseenthroughtheveil——couldanythingbemorefetching？andhersmartcarriageandtheflingofherfinebroadshoulders，and——no，itwasnouse;Condyhadtorundowntospeaktoher.

"Come，come！"shesaidashepretendedtojostleagainstheronthecurbstonewithoutnoticingher;"youhadbestgotowork.

Loafingatteno’clockonthestreetcorners——theidea！"

"ItISnot——itcannotbe——andyetitis——itisSHE，"heburlesqued;"andafteralltheseyears！"Theninhisnaturalvoice："HelloT.B."

"Hello，C.R."

"Whereareyougoing？’

"Home.I’vejustrundownforhalfanhourtohavetheheadofmybanjotightened."

"IfIputyouonthecar，willyouexpectmetopayyourcar—

fare？"

CondyRivers，I’velongsincegotovertheideaofeverexpectingyoutohaveanychangeconcealedaboutyourperson."

"Huh！no，itallgoesfortheatretickets，andflowers，andboxesofcandyforacertaingirlIknow.But"——andheglaredathersignificantly——"nomorefoolishness."

Shelaughed."Whatareyou’on’thismorning，Condy？"

CondytoldherastheystartedtowalktowardKearneyStreet.

ButwhyDON’Tyougotothedockandseethevessel，ifyoucanmakeabetterarticlethatway？"

"Oh，what’sthegood！TheCentennialpeoplehaveturneddownmystories."

Shecommiseratedhimforthis;thensuddenlyexclaimed：

"No，youmustgodowntothedock！Yououghtto，CondyOh，Itellyou，letmegodownwithyou！"

InaninstantCondyleapedtothenotion."Splendid！splendid！noreasonwhyyoushouldn’t！"heexclaimed.Andwithinfifteenminutesthetwoweretreadingthewharvesandquaysofthecity’swater—front.

Shipsinnumerablenuzzledattheendlesslineofdocks，mastoverspiringmast，andbowspritoverlappingbowsprit，tilltheeyewasbewildered，asifbytheconfusionofbranchesinaleaflessforest.Inthedistancethemassofriggingresolveditselfintoasolidgraybluragainstthesky.Thegreathulks，greenandblackandslategray，laidthemselvesalongthedocks，strainingleisurelyattheirmammothchains，theirflanksopened，theircargoes，asitweretheirentrails，spewedoutinawilddisarrayofcrateandbaleandbox.Sailorsandstevedoresswarmedthemlikevermin.Trucksrolledalongthewharveslikepealsofordnance，thehorse—hoofsbeatingtheboardslikeheavydrum—taps.

Chainsclanked，aship’sdogbarkedincessantlyfromacompanionway，ropescreakedincomplainingpulleys，blocksrattled，hoisting—enginescoughedandstrangled，whilealltheairwasredolentofoakum，ofpitch，ofpaint，ofspices，ofripefruit，ofcleancoollumber，ofcoffee，oftar，ofbilge，andthebrisk，nimbleodorofthesea.

Traviswasdelighted，herlittlebrowneyessnapping，hercheeksflushing，asshedrankinthescene.

"Tothink，"shecried，"wherealltheseshipshavecomefrom！Lookattheirnames;aren’ttheyperfect？Justthenames，see：the’MaryBaker，’Hull;andthe’Anandale，’Liverpool;andthe’TwoSisters，’Calcutta，andseethatonethey’recalking，the’Montevideo，’Callao;andthere，look！look！theveryoneyou’relookingfor，the’CityofEverett，’SanFrancisco."

Thewhaleback，animmensetubeofsteelplates，layatherwharf，suckinginentireharvestsofwheatfromtheSanJoaquinvalley——

harveststhatweretofeedstrangelycladskeletonsonthesouthernslopesoftheHimalayafoot—hills.TravisandCondyedgedtheirwayamongpilesofwheat—bags，dodgingdraysandrumblingtrucks，andfinallybroughtupattheaftergangplank，whereasailorhaltedthem.Condyexhibitedhisreporter’sbadge.

"Irepresent’TheTimes，’"hesaid，withprofoundsolemnity，"andIwanttoseetheofficerincharge."

Thesailorfellbackupontheinstant.

"Powerofthepress，"whisperedCondytoTravisasthetwogainedthedeck.

Asecondsailordirectedthemtothemate，whomtheyfoundinthechart—room，engaged，singularlyenough，intrimmingtheleavesofascragglygeranium.

Condyexplainedhismissionwithflatteringallusionstothewhalebackandthenoveltyoftheconstruction.Themate——anoldmanwithapatriarchalbeard——softenedatonce，askedthemintohisowncabinaft，andevenbroughtoutacamp—stoolforTravis，brushingitwithhissleevebeforesettingitdown.

WhileCondywasinterviewingtheoldfellow，Traviswasexamining，withtheinterestofachild，thedetailsofthecabin：therack—

likebunk，thewashstand，ingeniouslyconstructedsoastoshutintothebulkheadwhennotinuse，thealarm—clockscrewedtothewall，andthearrayofphotographsthrustintothemirrorbetweenframeandglass.One，anolddaguerreotype，particularlycaughtherfancy.Itwastheportraitofaverybeautifulgirl，wearingtheold—fashionedsidecurlsandhighcombofahalf—centuryprevious.Theoldmatenoticedtheattentionshepaidtoit，and，assoonashehaddonegivinginformationtoCondy，turnedandnoddedtoTravis，andsaidquietly："Shewaspretty，wasn’tshe？"

"Oh，very！answeredTravis，withoutlookingaway.

Therewasasilence.Thenthemate，hiseyeswideandthoughtful，saidwithalongbreath：

"Andshewasjustaboutyourage，miss，whenIsawher;andyoufavorher，too."

CondyandTravisheldtheirbreathsinattention.Thereinthecabinofthatcuriousnondescriptwhalebacktheyhadcomesuddenlytotheedgeofaromance——aromancethathadbeenlivedthroughbeforetheywereborn.ThenTravissaidinalowvoice，andsweetly"Shedied？"

"BeforeIeverseteyesonher，miss.Thatis，MAYBEshedied.I

sometimesthink——factis，Ireallybelieveshe’saliveyet，andwaitingforme."Hehesitatedawkwardly."Idunno，"hesaidpullinghisbeard."Idon’tusuallytellthatstorytostrangefolk，butyouremindmesoofherthatIguessIwill."

Condysatdownontheedgeofthebunk，andthemateseatedhimselfontheplushsettleoppositethedoor，hiselbowsonhisknees，hiseyesfixedonapatchofbrightsunlightuponthedeckoutside.

"Ibeganlife，"hesaid，"asadeep—seadiver——beganprettyyoung，too.IfirstputonthearmorwhenIwastwenty，nothingbutalad;butIcouldtakethepressureuptoseventypoundseventhen.

OneofmyveryfirstdiveswasoffTrincomalee，onthecoastofCeylon.Amailpackethadgonedowninasquallwithallonboard.Sixofthebodieshadcomeupandhadbeenrecovered，buttheseventhhadn’t.Itwasthebodyofthedaughterofthegovernoroftheisland，abeautifulyounggirlofnineteen，whomeverybodyloved.Iwassentfortogodownandbringthebodyup.

Well，Iwentdown.Thepacketlayinahundredfeetofwater，andthat’sawonderdeepdive.Ihadtogodowntwice.ThefirsttimeIcouldn’tfindanything，thoughIwentallthroughtheberth—deck.Icameuptothewrecking—floatandreportedthatI

hadseennothing.Therewerealotofmentherebelongingtothewreckinggang，andsomecorrespondentsofLondonpapers.Buttheywouldhaveitthatshewasbelow，andhadmegodownagain.I

did，andthistimeIfoundher."

Thematepausedamoment"I’llhavetotellyou，"hewenton，"thatwhenabodydon’tcometothesurfaceitwillstandorsitinaperfectlynaturalpositionuntilacurrentormovementofthewateraroundtouchesit.Whenthathappens——well，you’dsaythebodywasalive;andolddivershaveasuperstition——no，itAIN’Tjustasuperstition，Ibelieveit’sso——thatdrownedpeoplereallydon’tdietilltheycometothesurface，andtheairtouchesthem.Wesaythatthedrownedwhodon’tcomeupstillhavesomesortoflifeoftheirownwaydownthereinallthatgreenwatersomekindoflifesurelysurely.WhenIwentdownthesecondtime，IcameacrossthedoorofwhatIthoughtatfirstwasthelinen—closet.

Butitturnedouttobealittlestateroom.Iopenedit.Therewasthegirl.Shewassittingonthesofaoppositethedoor，withalittlehatonherhead，andholdingasatchelinherlap，justasifshewasreadytogoashore.Hereyeswerewideopen，andshewaslookingrightatmeandsmiling.Itdidn’tseemterribleorghastlyintheleast.Sheseemedverysweet.WhenIopenedthedooritsetthewaterinmotion，andshegotupanddroppedthesatchel，andcametowardmesmilingandholdingoutherarms.

"Isteppedbackquickandshutthedoor，andsatdowninoneofthesaloonchairstofetchmybreath，forithadgivenmeastart.

Thenextthingtodowastosendherup.ButIbegantothink.

Sheseemedsoprettyasshewas.Whatwastheuseofbringingherup——upthereonthewreckingfloatwiththatcrowdofmen——upwheretheairwouldgetather，andwheretheywouldputherinthegroundalongo’theworms？IfIleftherthereshe’dalwaysbesweetandpretty——alwaysbenineteen;andIrememberedwhatolddiverssaidaboutdrownedpeoplelivingjustsolongastheystayedbelow.Yousee，Iwasonlyaladthen，andthingslikethatimpressyouwhenyou’reyoung.Well，Isignaledtobehauledup.TheyaskedmeonthefloatifI’dseenanything，andIsaidno.Thatwasalltherewastotheaffair.Theyneverraisedtheship，andinalittlewhileitwasallforgotten.

"ButIneverforgotit，andIalwaysrememberedher，waydownthereinallthatstillgreenwater，waitingthereinthatlittlestate—roomformetocomebackandopenthedoor.AndI’vegrowedtobeanoldmanrememberingher;butshe’salwaysstayedjustasshewasthefirstdayIsawher，whenshecametowardmesmilingandholdingoutherarms.She’salwaysstayedyoungandfreshandpretty.Ineversawherbutthatonce.OnlyafterwardIgotherpicturefromanativewomanofTrincomaleewhowashouse—keeperattheResidencywherethegovernoroftheislandlived.SomehowI

nevercouldcareforotherwomenafterthat，andIain’tnevermarriedforthatreason."

"No，no，ofcoursenot！exclaimedTravis，inalowvoiceastheoldfellowpaused.

"Fine，fine;oh，fineasgold！"murmuredCondy，underhisbreath.

"Well，"saidthemate，gettingupandrubbinghisknee，"that’sthestory.Nowyouknowallaboutthatpicture.WillyouhaveaglassofMadeira，miss？"

HegotoutabottleofwinebearingthegenuineFunchallabelandfilledthreetinyglasses.Travispushedupherveil，andsheandCondyrose.

"ThisistoHER，"saidTravisgravely.

"Thankyou，miss，"answeredthemate，andthethreedrankinsilence.

AsTravisandCondyweregoingdownthegangplanktheymetthecaptainofthewhalebackcomingup.

"IsawyouintheretalkingtooldMcPherson，"heexplained."Didyougetwhatyouwantedfromhim？"

"More，more！"exclaimedCondy.

"Myhandinthefire，hetoldyouthatyarnaboutthegirlwhowasdrownedoffTrincomalee.Ofcourse，Iknewit.Theoldboy’switsareturnedonthatsubject.HeWILLhaveitthatthebodyhasn’tdecomposedinallthistime.Goodseamanenough，andafirst—classnavigator，buthe’ssoftinthatonespot."

ChapterIV

"Oh，buttheSTORYofit！"exclaimedCondyasheandTravisregainedthewharf——"thestoryofit！Isn’titaripper.Isn’titacorker！Hisleavingherthatway，andnevercaringforanyothergirlafterward."

"Andsooriginal，"shecommented，quiteasenthusiasticashe.

"Original？——why，it’snewaspaint！It’s——it’s——Travis，I’llmakeastoryoutofthisthatwillbecopiedineverypaperbetweenthetwooceans."

Theyweresointerestedinthemate’sstorythattheyforgottotakeacar，andwalkedupClayStreettalkingitover，suggesting，rearranging，andembellishing;andCondywasastonishedanddelightedtonotethatshe"caughton"totheideaasquicklyashe，andknewthetellingpointsandwhatdetailstoleaveout.

"AndI’llmakeabang—uparticleoutofthewhalebackherself，"

declaredCondy.The"idea"ofthearticlehadreturnedtohim，andallhisenthusiasmwithit.

"Andlookhere，hesaid，showinghertheletterfromtheCentennialCompany."Theyturneddownmybook，butseewhattheysay.

"Quiteanunusualorderofmerit！"criedTravis."Why，that’sfine！Whydidn’tyoushowthistomebefore？——andaskingyoulikethistowritethemanovelofadventure！WhatMOREcanyouwant？

Oh！"sheexclaimedimpatiently，"that’ssolikeyou;youwouldtelleverybodyaboutyourreverses，andcarryonaboutthemyourself，butneversayawordwhenyougetalittleboom.Haveyouanideaforathirty—thousand—wordnovel？Wouldn’tthatdiver’sstorydo？"

"No，there’snotenoughinthatforthirtythousandwords.I

haven’tanyideaatall——neverwroteastoryofadventure——neverwroteanythinglongerthansixthousandwords.ButI’llkeepmyeyeopenforsomethingthatwilldo.Bytheway——byJove！Travis，wherearewe？"

Theylookedbrisklyaroundthem，andthebustling，breezywater—

frontfadedfromtheirrecollections.Theywereinaworldofnarrowstreets，ofgalleriesandoverhangingbalconies.Crazieststructures，riddledandhoneycombedwithstairwaysandpassages，shutoutthesky，thoughhereandthereroseabuildingofextraordinaryrichnessandmostelaborateornamentation.Colorwaseverywhere.Athousandlittlenotesofgreenandyellow，ofvermilionandskyblue，assaultedtheeye.Hereitwasadoorway，hereavividglintofclothorhanging，hereahugescarletsignletteredwithgold，andhereakaleidoscopiceffectinthegarmentsofapasser—by.Directlyopposite，andtwostoriesabovetheirheads，asortofhuge"loggia，"oneblazeofgildingandcrudevermilions，openedinthegraycementofacrumblingfacade，likeasuddenburstofflame.Giganticpot—belliedlanternsofredandgoldswungfromitsceiling，whilealongitsrailingstoodarowofpots——brass，ruddybronze，andblueporcelain——fromwhichweregrowingredsaffron，purple，pink，andgoldentulipswithoutnumber.Theairwasvibrantwithunfamiliarnoises.Fromoneofthebalconiesnearathand，thoughunseen，agong，apipe，andsomekindofstringedinstrumentwailedandthunderedinunison.

Therewasavastshufflingofpaddedsolesandacontinuousinterchangeofsingsongmonosyllables，high—pitchedandstaccato，whilefromeveryhandrosethestrangearomasoftheEast——

sandalwood，punk，incense，oil，andthesmellofmysteriouscookery.

"Chinatown！"exclaimedTravis."Ihadn’tthefaintestideawehadcomeupsofar.CondyRivers，doyouknowwhattimeitis？"Shepointedawhitekidfingerthroughthedoorwayofadrug—store，where，amidlacquerboxesandbronzeurnsofherbsanddriedseeds，aroundSethThomasmarkedhalf—pasttwo.

"Andyourlunch？"criedCondy."Greatheavens！Ineverthought."

"It’stoolatetogetanyathome.Nevermind;I’llgosomewhereandhaveacupoftea."

"WhynotgetapackageofChinesetea，nowthatyou’redownhere，andtakeithomewithyou？"

"Ordrinkithere."

"Where？"

"Inoneoftherestaurants.Therewouldn’tbeasoulthereatthishour.Iknowtheyserveteaanytime.Condy，let’stryit.

Wouldn’titbefun？"

Condysmotehisthigh."Fun！"hevociferated;"fun！Itis——byJove——itwouldbeHEAVENLY！Waitamoment.I’lltellyouwhatwewilldo.Teawon’tbeenough.We’llgodowntoKearneyStreet，ortothemarket，andgetsomecrackerstogowithit."

TheyhurriedbacktotheCaliforniamarket，afewblocksdistant，andboughtsomecrackersandawedgeofnewcheese.OnthewaybacktoChinatownTravisstoppedatamusicstoreonKearneyStreettogetherbanjo，whichshehadlefttohaveitsheadtightened;andthusburdenedtheyregainedthe"town，"Condygrievingaudiblyathavingtocarry"brown—paperbundlesthroughthestreet."

"Firstcatchyourrestaurant，"saidTravisastheyturnedintoDupontStreetwithitsthrongingcooliesandswarming，gaylycladchildren.Buttheyhadnotfartoseek.

"Hereyouare！"suddenlyexclaimedCondy，haltinginfrontofawholesaletea—housebearingasigninChineseandEnglish."Comeon，Travis！"

Theyascendedtwoflightsofabroad，brass—boundstaircaseleadingupfromthegroundfloor，andgainedtherestaurantonthetopstoryofthebuilding.AsTravishadforetold，itwasdeserted.Sheclaspedherglovedhandsgayly，crying："Isn’titdelightful！We’vethewholeplacetoourselves."

Therestaurantranthewholedepthofthebuilding，andwasfinishedoffateitherextremitywithagildedbalcony，oneoverlookingDupontStreetandtheothertheoldPlaza.Enormousscreensofgildedebony，intricatelycarvedandsetwithcoloredglasspanes，dividedtheroomintothree，andoneofthesedivisions，intherearpart，fromwhichtheycouldstepoutuponthebalconythatcommandedtheviewofthePlaza，theyelectedastheirown.

Itwascharming.Attheirbackstheyhadthehuge，fantasticscreen，braveandfinewithitscoatofgold.Infront，throughtheglass—panedvalvesofapairoffoldingdoors，theycouldseetheroofsofthehousesbeyondthePlaza，andbeyondthesetheblueofthebaywithitsanchoredships，andevenbeyondthisthefaintpurpleoftheOaklandshore.Oneithersideofthesedoors，indeepalcoves，weredivanswithmattingsandhead—restsforopiumsmokers.ThewallswerepaintedblueandhungwithverticalCantoneselegendsinredandsilver，whileallaroundthesidesoftheroomsmallebonytablesalternatedwithebonystools，eachinlaidwithaslabofmottledmarble.Achandelier，alla—glitterwithtinsel，swungfromthecentreoftheceilingoverahugeroundtableofmahogany.

Andnotasoulwastheretodisturbthem.Belowthem，outtherearoundtheoldPlaza，thecitydrummedthroughitsworkwithalazy，soothingrumble.Nearerathand，ChinatownsentupthevaguemurmurofthelifeoftheOrient.InthedirectionoftheMexicanquarter，thebellofthecathedralknolledatintervals.

Theskywaswithoutacloudandtheafternoonwaswarm.

Condywasinarticulatewiththejoyofwhathecalledtheir"discovery."Hegotupandsatdown.Hewentoutintotheotherroomandcamebackagain.Hedraggedupacoupleofthemarble—

seatedstoolstothetable.Hetookoffhishat，lightedacigarette，letitgoout，lighteditagain，andburnedhisfingers.Heopenedandclosedthefolding—doors，pushedthetableintoabetterlight，andfinallybroughtTravisoutuponthebalconytoshowherthe"pointsofhistoricalinterest"inandaroundthePlaza.

"There’stheStevensonmemorialshipinthecentre，see;andrightthere，wheretheflagstaffis，GeneralBakermadethefuneralorationoverthebodyofTerry.Broderickkilledhiminaduel——

orwasitTerrykilledBroderick？Iforgetwhich.Anyhow，rightopposite，wherethatpawnshopis，iswheretheOverlandstagesusedtostartin’49.AndeveryotherbuildingthatfrontsonthePlaza，eventhisonewe’reinnow，usedtobeagambling—houseinbonanzatimes;and，see，overyonderistheMorgueandtheCityPrison."

Theyturnedbackintotheroom，andagreat，fatChinamanbroughtthemteaonCondy’sorder.Butbesidestea，hebroughtdriedalmonds，pickledwatermelonrinds，candiedquince，and"Chinanuts."

TraviscutthecheeseintocubeswithCondy’spenknife，andarrangedthecubesingeometricfiguresuponthecrackers.

"But，Condy，"shecomplained，"whyintheworlddidyougetsomanycrackers？There’shundredsofthemhere——enoughtofeedaregiment.Whydidn’tyouaskme？"

"Huh！what？what？Idon’tknow.What’sthematterwiththecrackers？Youweredickeringwiththecheese，andthemansaid，’Howmanycrackers？’Ididn’tknow.Isaid，’Oh，givemeaquarter’sworth！’"

"Andwecouldn’tpossiblyhaveeatentencents’worth！Oh，Condy，youare——youare——Butnevermind，here’syourtea.Iwonderifthisgreen，pastystuffisgood."

Theyfoundthatitwas，butsosweetthatitmadetheirteatastebitter.ThewatermelonrindswereflattotheirWesternpalates，butthedriedalmondswereagreatsuccess.ThenCondypromptlygotthehiccoughsfromdrinkinghisteatoofast，andfrettedupanddowntheroomlikeachickenwiththepiptillTravisgrewfaintandweakwithlaughter.

"Oh，well，"heexclaimedaggrievedly——"laugh，that’sright！I

don’tlaugh.Itisn’tsuchfunwhenyou’vegot’emyoursel’——

HULP."

"Butsitdown，forgoodness’sake！Youmakemesonervous.Youcan’twalkthemoff.Sitdownandholdyourbreathwhileyoucountnine.Condy，I’mgoingtotakeoffmyglovesandveil.

Whatdoyouthink？"

"Sure，ofcourse;andI’llhaveacigarette.DoyoumindifI

smoke？"

"Well，what’sthatinyourhandnow？"

"ByJove，Ihavebeensmoking！I——Ibegyourpardon.I’maregularstableboy.I’llthrowitaway."

Traviscaughthiswrist."Whatnonsense！IwouldhavetoldyoubeforeifI’dminded."

"Butit’sgoneout！"heexclaimed."I’llhaveanother."

Ashereachedintohispocketforhiscase，hishandencounteredapaper—coveredvolume.andhedrewitoutinsomeperplexity.

"Now，howinthewideworlddidthatbookcomeinmypocket？"hemuttered，frowning."WhathaveIbeencarryingitaroundfor？

I’veforgotten.IdeclareIhave."

"Whatbookisit？"

"Hey？book？h’m，"hemurmured，staring.