Bennington

“ And as the deep bell boomed on through all the vision, like a subtle thrilling presence, Bennington seemed to himself to stand, finger on lip, the eternal custodian of the Secret of it all—the secret that each of these cowled figures was a Man—a divine soul and a body, with ears, and eyes, and a brain; that he had thoughts, and his life that is and is to come was of these thoughts; that there beat hearts beneath that gray, and that their voices must not be heeded ”

“ Bennington mounted a pile of molds and raised his hand. The murmur of voices dwindled away into silence. The sun came in through the spreading skylights, and Bennington stood in the center of the radiance. He was a man, every inch of him, and not a man among them could deny it. There are many things that are recognizable even to crass minds, and one of these is a man. Genius they look upon with contempt, but not strength and resolution; they can not comprehend what is not visible to the eye.
"Fire away, boss!" ”

“ He therefore passed an unusually peeved evening in the posada bar, his heart filled with un-Lincolnian “malice toward all and charity toward none”—least of all toward café-au-lait widows with hibiscuses and jasmines in their hair.
Bennington retired early to theoretical rest under the ragged mosquito-bar in his white-walled cell off the patio. He was poison-mad. His sleep was a nightmare of heat, bugs, peevishness. ”

“ The only result of this was a faintly derisive laugh, the growl of a motorcar as somebody stepped on the gas of an engine that had been left quietly running, a clash of gears. Bennington vaguely caught the suggestion of a car departing at considerable speed.
“Here, you—” But the miscreants totally declined to “here.” And sudden silence closed on the drizzly, chill air.
Then rage filled Bartholomew Bennington's heart, inside his thirty-four-inch chest. Any householder, despoiled, will understand. Also, it's a good bit easier to feel rage when the foe runs away than when he stands to fight. ”

“ Then the right hand rose to the full, ripe, red, moist lips, the cigarette was set between them; the widow took a deep chestful of smoke and let it drift from those lips, as per above, all round Bennington’s dizzy head. The smoke enveloped him like Circean censers on the Isle of What’s-Its-Name, when Ulysses and his men had the Big Picnic. ”

“ Oh, then everything will be so different! They will all—" Molly stopped before the rising visions of Bennington. Upon the fairy-tale that she had been living with her cow-boy lover broke the voices of the world. She could hear them from afar. She could see the eyes of Bennington watching this man at her side. She could imagine the ears of Bennington listening for slips in his English. ”

“ THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON.
I see that August morning now before me as I tell
The story of the stirring scenes which I remember well—
The battle-day of Bennington, and what thereon befell.
Yes! we were in the stubble where the hands had gone at dawn,
When, riding swiftly down the road, his dappled gray upon,
Whose flanks were marked with blood and foam, I saw my brother John.
His face was bright, his eyes alight, his bearing proud and high—
“Ho! whither do you speed so fast? Why do you hurry by,
While friends are eager for the news, John Manchester?” said I.
“To fight!” ”

“ He looked up, and then still up, until, at the flat top of the castellated dike that stood over him, he caught a gleam of pink. The contrast between it, the blue of the sky, and the dark green of the trees, was most beautiful and unusual. Nature rarely uses pink, except in sunsets and in flowers. Bennington thought pleasedly how every impression this girl made upon him was one of grace or beauty or bright colour. ”

“ Yes, he would accept the hundred.
After a few epochs, eons, and eras, the launch emerged into a dark inlet from the sea. Tiny lights winked and beckoned, far ahead. These lights turned out to be those of the Cristóbal Colón, taking wood at La Fiebre. Smeady brought the launch up under the port bow of the steamer and knotted the painter to the cable-chain. Then he and Bennington scrambled in at an open, black-yawning, freight-port. Smeady gave a handful of loose change to a vague figure there, for silence. Under the gleam of a lantern he scrawled a bill of sale on a wrinkled sheet of paper. ”

“ But he hadn't taken two steps before the other's words stopped him abruptly.
"You're a millionaire, eh? Well, I'll soon fix you and your actress and her lover. Take that as a starter!"
He struck Bennington savagely on the cheek-bone. Bennington stumbled back, but managed to save himself from falling. Instantly all the war that was in his soul saw an outlet. He came back, swift as a panther and as powerful. In an instant his assailant was on his back on the pavement, the strong fingers tightening about the wretch's throat; Bolles was a powerful man, but he had not the slightest chance. ”

“ He visited the horses, standing disconsolate under an open shed in the corral; he slopped, with constantly accruing masses of sticky earth at his feet, to the chicken coop, into which he cast an eye; he even took the kitchen pails and tramped down to the spring and back. In the gulch he did not see or hear a living thing. A newly-born and dirty little stream was trickling destructively through all manner of shivering grasses and flowers. The water from Bennington's sleeves ran down over the harsh canvas cuffs and turned his hands purple with the cold. ”

“ How was he to get gas? Only one possibility remained. Even as travelers across the steppes of Russia fling supernumerary infants to the wolves, for a getaway, so now Bennington understood he would have to sacrifice a few of his precious, prize Buff Orpingtons.
It took him not long to open the crate, in the darkness and extract four fine but vociferous birds, tie their legs with a cord rummaged from a side-pocket of the car, and start hiking toward Porterville. But all at once, as he bore his loud burden down the tenebrous road, doubts and fears assailed him. ”

“ You’ve got one chance in eighty-seven thousand! Next minute, it’ll be one in eighty-eight thousand! For the love o’ Pete, hombre, pronto on the fade-away!”
Smeady shook him again, so that Bennington’s teeth did a bolero with castanet accompaniment. Yes, it must have been the shake that caused the chatter. Surely, who could have suspected that Bennington would be afraid? Even if he were, it must have been fear of hurting Sanchez that made Bennington’s Angers tremble so that he could hardly fasten his buttons or tie his shoes. Howbeit, he dressed in record time. No commuter ever did better. ”

“ He handed Bennington his revolver, and moved off in the direction of the cabin, whistling cheerfully. The young man looked after him thoughtfully. Nothing could have been more considerate than the Westerner's manner, nothing could have been kinder than his prompt action—Bennington saw that his pony, now cropping the brush near at hand, was black with sweat—nothing could have been more straightforward than his assistance in the matter of the claims. And yet Bennington de Laney was not satisfied. ”

“ You have seen what my family is."
"I don't know, Mary, that I can make you understand at all," began Bennington helplessly. "I can't express it even to myself. Our people are so different. My training has been so different. All this sort of thing means so much to us, and so little to you."
"I know exactly," she interrupted. "I have read, and I have lived East. I can appreciate just how it is. See if I can not read your thoughts. My family is uneducated. If it becomes your family, your own parents will be more than grieved, and your friends will have little to do with you. ”

“ Darkness and mystery, emptiness, heat and the terror of a sudden, violent death brooded. How easy an ambuscade in the night, from behind any wall—a knife-thrust—a body slid into the river! Then the alligators would take charge of the undertaking-job. Mysterious disappearance of one Americano. No one would ever know, but Smeady—and fear would seal his lips. Bennington gulped dryly and stumbled on. ”

“ You’re lucky to be goin’ north, with a skin that don’t look like a sheet o’ postage-stamps. It’s me that’s gotta stay here an’ catch it. Here, here’s a souvenir for you.” He slid a shriveled lemon into Bennington’s hand. “You’ll prize it—it’ll prove to your friends that you got somethin’ off your finca, anyhow. Good luck to you. S’iong!”
Bennington pocketed the lemon. He felt grateful for even that. At all events he would have something for Beatrice; he was not going home completely goose-egged. Smeady, meantime, slipped out of the freight-port into the launch, cast off and departed. ”

“ Bennington eyed his broad shoulders sympathetically. He looked down at the limp, smooth skins in his hand, and sat up stiffly. From the gloves to Warrington and back again to the gloves, his gaze traveled. With an impulse rather mechanical he raised the gloves to his nose. Quickly he dropped them on the desk, took up the photograph, rose and replaced it on the mantel. Hearing him, Warrington turned.
"No, Jack, I doubt if I shall ever be lucky enough to find the one woman. I've been so busy that I've never had time to hunt for happiness. ”

“ Bennington had never before experienced the delight of seeing a young girl about a house, and he enjoyed to the utmost the deft little touches by which is imparted that airily feminine appearance to a room; or, more subtly, the mere spirit of daintiness which breathes always from a woman of the right sort. He felt there was added a newer and calmer element of joy to his love.
During the first period of his illness, then, Jim Fay and the Leslie brothers had worked energetically relocating the claims, while Mrs. Lawton and Miss Fay had taken charge of the house. ”

“ Bennington reached the finca after a blistering walk past all the attractions mentioned by Smeady, and then some, including a hut where he inquired the way. Inside the hut a citizen was dining, with wife and offspring. Two chickens, on the table, likewise dined. One dog, lying on the earthen floor, likewise dined on bones flung down. One chick, standing on said dog, likewise dined, entomologically. There were pigs, too. Bennington hastened on.
Without the widow to overcome the effect of Finca Rica, the blow—after that lathering, blistering walk—would have put Bennington to the mat. ”

“ And when letters directed to Bennington would go out, Mrs. Taylor would inspect every one as if its envelope ought to grow transparent beneath her eyes, and yield up to her its great secret, if it had one. But in truth these letters had no great secret to yield up, until one day—yes; one day Mrs. Taylor would have burst, were bursting a thing that people often did. Three letters were the cause of this emotion on Mrs. Taylor's part; one addressed to Bennington, one to Dunbarton, and the third—here was the great excitement—to Bennington, but not in the little schoolmarm's delicate writing. ”

“ She was much interested, inquiring of his colour, his size, his gaits, whether he had been tried.
"I'll tell you what we will do," she suggested; "we'll go on an expedition some day. I have a pony too. We will fill up our saddlebags and cook our own dinner. I know a nice little place over toward Blue Lead."
"I've one suggestion to add," put in Bennington, "and that is, that we go to-morrow."
She looked a trifle doubtful.
"I don't know. Aren't we seeing a good deal of each other?"
"Oh, if it is going to bore you, by all means put it off!" cried Bennington in genuine alarm. ”

“ Bennington expressed his delight.
For seven geological ages did he gaze upon cheap and horrible woodcuts of gentlemen in fashionable raiment trying to lean against conspicuously inadequate rustic gates; equally fashionable ladies, with flat chests, and rat's nest hair; and animals whose attitudes denoted playful sportiveness of disposition. ”

“ How is it that this girl could cry at having to tell Sam Bannett she could not think of him, and then treat another lover as she treated the Virginian? I cannot tell you, having never (as I said before) been a woman myself.
Bennington opened its arms to its venturesome daughter. Much was made of Molly Wood. Old faces and old places welcomed her. Fatted calves of varying dimensions made their appearance. ”

“ Bennington's friend, Warrington would lose many hundred votes in November. For everybody knew which way the Republican convention would go; there was nobody in sight but Warrington.
Bennington and Mrs. Jack dined at the old home that evening. There was plenty of gloom and forced gaiety around the board. John pretended that he was well out of a bad job; he was not a dreamer nor a socialist, not he; Utopia was not for the iron age. He told stories, joked and laughed, and smoked frequently. No one but the mother had the courage to ask if he really meant to tear down the mills. ”

“ The newcomer was a child, a little girl about eight or ten years old. Bennington liked children as a usual thing. No one on earth could have become possessed in this one's favour. She was a creature of regular but mean features, extreme gravity, and evidently of an inquiring disposition. On seeing her for the first time, one sophisticated would have expected a deluge of questions. Bennington did. ”

“ After a moment's puzzling over it, Bennington understood that Jim Leslie was talking to one of the prisoners down the shaft.
"You have the true sporting spirit, sir," cried the voice of Jeems. "I honour you for it. But so philosophical a resignation, while it inclines our souls to know more of you personally, nevertheless renders you much less interesting in such a juncture as the present. I would like to hear from Mr. Davidson." ”