We never drank
it except upon great occasions. Ajax suggested a bottle of this
elixir, not entirely out of charity. Such tipple would warm a graven
image into speech, and my brother is inordinately curious. Our guest
had nothing to give to us except his confidence, and that he had
withheld.
We decanted the claret very carefully. As soon as our guest tasted it,
he sighed and said quietly--
"I never expected to taste that again. It's Leoville, isn't it? And in
exquisite condition."
He sipped the wine in silence, while I thought of the bundle of foul
rags upon our rubbish heap. Ajax was talking shop, describing with
some humour our latest deal, and the present high price of fat steers.
Our guest listened politely, and when Ajax paused, he said
ironically--
"Yours is a gospel of hard work. I dare say you have ridden two horses
to a standstill to-day? Just so. I can't ride, or plough, or dig."
Ajax opened his lips to reply, and closed them. Our guest smiled.
"You are wondering what brought me to California. As a matter of fact,
a private car. No, thanks, no more claret."
Later, we hoped he might melt into confidence over tobacco and toddy.
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