Upon the face of the landscape
brooded infinite peace, and the soft shadows of evening.
"In Californy," said our passenger, "the glorious works o' the Lord
air revealed. There's the Bishop: he looks fine to-night. Ye kin see
the peak, but the sea fog's crawlin' in, an' shets off the main body
o' the mountain. That's wher the fogs air always thickest. An' that's
wher I lost my way, Mr. Ajax. Yes, sir, my feet stumbled on the dark
mountain, as the prophet says, but I clumb the stony places, an' now,
on the top, its clear."
"Gloriana," said Ajax, after a pause, "will you allow my brother, who
is a grave and learned signor, to plead your cause with Doctor
Standish? I know what lies nearest your heart."
In this impudent fashion he laid a grievous burden on me; for I have
no stomach for other folk's pastry, yet the hope that glistened upon
Gloriana's face whetted a strange appetite.
"I'll speak to him--if you wish it," said I.
"No," she returned, her eyes giving the lie to her lips. "It wouldn't
be right."
But a woman's brain is a sorry advocate against her heart. Ajax, as I
expected, put her scruples to rout.
Pages:
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88