It was within Don Caesar's experience that gold specimens were often sent in that manner.It was in a state of singular preservation,except the address,which,being written in pencil,was scarcely discernible,and even when deciphered appeared to be incoherent and unfinished.The unknown correspondent had written "dear Mary,"and then "Mrs.Mary Slinn,"with an unintelligible scrawl following for the direction.If Don Caesar's mind had not been lately preoccupied with the name of the editor,he would hardly have guessed the superscription.
In his cruel disappointment and fully aroused indignation,he at once began to suspect a connection of circumstances which at any other moment he would have thought purely accidental,or perhaps not have considered at all.The cavity in the tree had evidently been used as a secret receptacle for letters before;did Mamie know it at the time,and how did she know it?The apparent age of the letter made it preposterous to suppose that it pointed to any secret correspondence of hers with young Mr.Slinn;and the address was not in her handwriting.Was there any secret previous intimacy between the families?There was but one way in which he could connect this letter with Mamie's faithlessness.It was an infamous,a grotesquely horrible idea,a thought which sprang as much from his inexperience of the world and his habitual suspiciousness of all humor as anything else!It was that the letter was a brutal joke of Slinn's--a joke perhaps concocted by Mamie and himself--a parting insult that should at the last moment proclaim their treachery and his own credulity.Doubtless it contained a declaration of their shame,and the reason why she had fled from him without a word of explanation.And the enclosure,of course,was some significant and degrading illustration.Those Americans are full of those low conceits;it was their national vulgarity.
He had the letter in his angry hand.He could break it open if he wished and satisfy himself;but it was not addressed to HIM,and the instinct of honor,strong even in his rage,was the instinct of an adversary as well.No;Slinn should open the letter before him.
Slinn should explain everything,and answer for it.If it was nothing--a mere accident--it would lead to some general explanation,and perhaps even news of Mamie.But he would arraign Slinn,and at once.He put the letter in his pocket,quickly retraced his steps to his horse,and,putting spurs to the animal,followed the high road to the gate of Mulrady's pioneer cabin.
He remembered it well enough.To a cultivated taste,it was superior to the more pretentious "new house."During the first year of Mulrady's tenancy,the plain square log-cabin had received those additions and attractions which only a tenant can conceive and actual experience suggest;and in this way the hideous right angles were broken with sheds,"lean-to"extensions,until a certain picturesqueness was given to the irregularity of outline,and a home-like security and companionship to the congregated buildings.It typified the former life of the great capitalist,as the tall new house illustrated the loneliness and isolation that wealth had given him.But the real points of vantage were the years of cultivation and habitation that had warmed and enriched the soil,and evoked the climbing vines and roses that already hid its unpainted boards,rounded its hard outlines,and gave projection and shadow from the pitiless glare of a summer's long sun,or broke the steady beating of the winter rains.It was true that pea and bean poles surrounded it on one side,and the only access to the house was through the cabbage rows that once were the pride and sustenance of the Mulradys.It was this fact,more than any other,that had impelled Mrs.Mulrady to abandon its site;she did not like to read the history of their humble origin reflected in the faces of their visitors as they entered.
Don Caesar tied his horse to the fence,and hurriedly approached the house.The door,however,hospitably opened when he was a few paces from it,and when he reached the threshold he found himself unexpectedly in the presence of two pretty girls.They were evidently Slinn's sisters,whom he had neither thought of nor included in the meeting he had prepared.In spite of his preoccupation,he felt himself suddenly embarrassed,not only by the actual distinction of their beauty,but by a kind of likeness that they seemed to bear to Mamie.
"We saw you coming,"said the elder,unaffectedly."You are Don Caesar Alvarado.My brother has spoken of you."The words recalled Don Caesar to himself and a sense of courtesy.
He was not here to quarrel with these fair strangers at their first meeting;he must seek Slinn elsewhere,and at another time.The frankness of his reception and the allusion to their brother made it appear impossible that they should be either a party to his disappointment,or even aware of it.His excitement melted away before a certain lazy ease,which the consciousness of their beauty seemed to give them.He was able to put a few courteous inquiries,and,thanks to the paragraph in the "Record,"to congratulate them upon their father's improvement.
