He sprang to his feet,
his face, that had been pale, flushing.
"It's Mrs. Gaylor's voice," he said, astonished and incredulous, as if at
the call of a ghost.
XXVI
AN INVITATION FROM CARMEN
Carmen had been following from San Francisco, a day late, because once, in
losing the trail, she had lost twenty-four hours. To-day she had arrived
at Wawona in the afternoon, and learning that Mr. Nickson Hilliard had
gone to the Mariposa Grove, she asked for a carriage to take her there
too.
"You'll reach the woods just about the time he's coming away," she was
advised. "He ought to be back by ten o'clock at latest, maybe earlier."
But Carmen insisted. She could not wait. Business made it necessary for
her to see Mr. Hilliard as soon as possible, without wasting a moment. She
looked sallow and hollow-eyed; for she had been travelling hard. Long ago
now she had put away her widow's weeds; yet in the warm June sunlight she
had the aspect of a mourner. It was as if she had drunk the blackness of
night, and it ran in her veins. In full sunshine she seemed to bleed
shadow.
The name of Gaylor was well known in California; and here at Wawona--far
from the Gaylor ranch as it was--those with whom she spoke were aware of
her importance.
Pages:
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376