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19 - Bransford Of Rainbow Range by Eugene Manlove Rhodes · Bransford Of Rainbow Range

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  Speaker 1: Bow's end, Hellen's lips are drifting. Dust Ilion is consumed
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  Speaker 1: with rust. All the galleons of Greece drink the ocean's
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  Speaker 1: dreamless speace lost with Solomon's purple show restless centuries ago,
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  Speaker 1: stately Empires wax and wane, Babylon, Barbary and Spain. Only
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  Speaker 1: one thing undefaced lasts, though all the worlds lie waste,
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  Speaker 1: and the heavens are overturned. Dear, how long ago we
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  Speaker 1: learned Frederick Lawrence Knowles starlet and moonlit leagues. The slow,
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  Speaker 1: fresh dawn, in the cool of the morning, Bransford came
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  Speaker 1: to the crest of the ground swell known as Frenchman's Ridge,
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  Speaker 1: and saw low lying Arcadia dim against the north, a
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  Speaker 1: toy town huddling close to the shelter of Rainbow Range.
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  Speaker 1: He splashed through the shallow waters of Alamo, failing to
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  Speaker 1: a trickle before it sank in the desert sands, and
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  Speaker 1: so came at last to the mode of Arcadia. With
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  Speaker 1: what joyous and eager, choking heart be to you may
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  Speaker 1: well guess not the needlessness of those swift pulses, or
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  Speaker 1: of that joy, For Eleanor was not there with missus Hoffman,
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  Speaker 1: as she had gone to visit the Sutherlands at Rainbow's End,
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  Speaker 1: and Jeff could not go on, Arcadia rose to greet
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  Speaker 1: him in impromptu Roman holiday. Poor Bransford has never known
• 1:32
  Speaker 1: clearly what chanced on that awful day. There is a jumbled,
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  Speaker 1: whirling memory of endless kaleidoscopic troops of joyful Arcadians, Billy White, Monte,
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  Speaker 1: Jimmy Clark, the grim, smiling Sheriff, the judge. It was
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  Speaker 1: dimly borne upon him by one or both of the two,
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  Speaker 1: last that there were yet certain formalities to be observed
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  Speaker 1: in the matter of his escape from custody, of the law,
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  Speaker 1: and of the horse he had borrowed from the courthouse square. Indeed,
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  Speaker 1: it seemed to Jeff, in a hazy afterthought, that perhaps
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  Speaker 1: the sheriff had arrested him again. If so, it had
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  Speaker 1: slipped Jeff's mind, swallowed up in a gruesome horror of congratulations,
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  Speaker 1: hand shakings, back slappings, badinage, and questions heaped on a
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  Speaker 1: hero heartsick, dazed and dumb, pleading weariness, He tore himself
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  Speaker 1: away at last, almost by violence, and flung himself down
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  Speaker 1: in a darkened bedroom of the Arcadian at Alanta. One
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  Speaker 1: thing was clear. Headlight was there, aforesaid Smith Madison. But
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  Speaker 1: his nearest friends pringle Bb and Ballenger, though they had
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  Speaker 1: hasted back to Arcadia to fight Jeff's battles, were ostentatiously
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  Speaker 1: absent from his hollow and hateful triumph. Johnny Denez had
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  Speaker 1: appointedly refused to share his night ride from Helms, and
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  Speaker 1: Jeff knew why. Sadly enough, the gods take pay for
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  Speaker 1: the goods they give. And now that goodly fellowship was broken,
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  Speaker 1: the thought clung fast. It haunted his tossing and troubled slumbers,
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  Speaker 1: where Eleanor came through a sunset glow, swift footed to
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  Speaker 1: meet him, where his friends rode slow and silent into
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  Speaker 1: the glimmering dusk, smaller and smaller black against the sky.
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  Speaker 1: The Sutherland Place made an outer corner of Rainbow's inn,
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  Speaker 1: bowered about by a double row of close and interlaced
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  Speaker 1: cottonwoods on two sides, by vigorous orchards on the other two.
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  Speaker 1: The house had once been a one storied adobe, heroically proportioned,
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  Speaker 1: thick walled, cool against summer warm in what went by
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  Speaker 1: the name of winter, the old time princely hospitality was unchanged,
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  Speaker 1: but Sutherland had bought lots in Arcadia of early days,
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  Speaker 1: and now the old gray walls of the house were
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  Speaker 1: smooth with creamy stucco rod of gypsum from the white sands.
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  Speaker 1: The windows were widened, and there was a superimposed story
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  Speaker 1: overhanging wide and low. The gables were double windowed, shingled,
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  Speaker 1: and stained not brown. The gentle sloping roof shingled, dormered
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  Speaker 1: and soft green, the overflow projecting two broad verandas on
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  Speaker 1: either side, very like an umbrella. A bungalow with two birthdays.
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  Speaker 1: Eighteen sixty six eighteen ninety six, Miss Eleanor Hoffmann had
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  Speaker 1: deserted veranda rocking chair and hammock with a sewing basket
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  Speaker 1: beside her. She sat on a pine bench under a
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  Speaker 1: cottonwood of eighteen sixty seven, ostensibly basting together a kimono
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  Speaker 1: tinted like a dripping seashell and faced with peach blossom.
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  Speaker 1: The work went slowly. Her seat was at the desert
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  Speaker 1: corner of the homestead, which was itself the desert outpost
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  Speaker 1: of a desert town, and her block blood stirred to
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  Speaker 1: these splendid horizons. The mysterious desert scoffed and questioned, drew
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  Speaker 1: her with promise of strange joys and strange griefs. The
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  Speaker 1: iron hard mountains, beckoned and challenged from afar, wove her
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  Speaker 1: their spells of wavering lights and shadows, the misty warp
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  Speaker 1: and woof of them, shifting to swift, fantastic hues of
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  Speaker 1: trembling rose and blue and violet, half veiling, half revealing steeps,
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  Speaker 1: unguessed and dreamed of sheltered valleys and all the myriad
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  Speaker 1: voice of moaning waste and world rimming hill cried come faint,
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  Speaker 1: fitful undertones of drowsy chords, far peeling of elfin bells,
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  Speaker 1: that was pulsing of busy aciclias, tinkling of mimic waterfalls.
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  Speaker 1: The clean breath of the desert groaned by bearing a
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  Speaker 1: grateful fragrance of apple blossoms near it, rippled the deepest
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  Speaker 1: green of alfalfa to undulating sheen of purple and flashing gold.
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  Speaker 1: The broad fields were dwarfed to play garden prettiness by
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  Speaker 1: the vastness of overwhelming desert to right to left, before
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  Speaker 1: whose nearer blotches of black and gray and brown faded
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  Speaker 1: far off to a nameless shimmer, its silent leagues, dwindling
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  Speaker 1: to immeasurable blur, merging indistinguishable in the burning sunset. East
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  Speaker 1: by up over guarding the oasis, the colossal bulk of
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  Speaker 1: Rainbow walled out the world with grim tiered cliffs, cleft
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  Speaker 1: only by the deep gashed gates of Rainbow Pass, where
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  Speaker 1: the swift river broke through to the rich fields of
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  Speaker 1: Rainbow's End, bringing fulfillment of the fabled pot of gold,
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  Speaker 1: or unused to shrink and fail and die in the
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  Speaker 1: thirsty sand below the willowm Chapel wandered forlorn, Rainbow no
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  Speaker 1: longer but lost river to a disconsolate delta, waterless save
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  Speaker 1: as infrequent floods found turbulent way to the sink, where
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  Speaker 1: wild horse and antelope revisited their old haunts for the
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  Speaker 1: tender green luxury of these brief, belated springs. Incidentally, Miss
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  Speaker 1: Hoffmann's outpost commanded a good view of Arcadia Road, winding
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  Speaker 1: white through the black tarbrush. Had she looked, she might
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  Speaker 1: have seen a slow horseman, tiny on the bare plain
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  Speaker 1: below the tarbrush, larger as he climbed the gentle slope
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  Speaker 1: along that white, winding road. But she bent industrious to
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  Speaker 1: her work, smiling to herself, half singing, half humming. A
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  Speaker 1: foolish and lilty little tune, a tisket, a tasket, a
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  Speaker 1: green and yellow basket. I wrote a letter to my love,
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  Speaker 1: and on the road I lost it. I christ it,
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  Speaker 1: I crossed it. I locked it in a casket. I
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  Speaker 1: missed it. I lost it. And here Miss Hoffman did
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  Speaker 1: an unaccountable thing. Wise, Penelope unraveled by night the work
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  Speaker 1: she wore by day. Like her in this, Miss Eleanor Hoffmann,
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  Speaker 1: now placidly snipped and ripped the basting threads, unraveled them patiently,
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  Speaker 1: and set to work afresh. Now there's no such thing
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  Speaker 1: as a ginkgo tree. There never was, though there ought
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  Speaker 1: to be. And tis also true, though most absurd, there's
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  Speaker 1: no such thing as a wallaby bird. Miss Hoffman was
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  Speaker 1: all in white, with a white middy blouse trimmed in scarlet,
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  Speaker 1: a scarlet ribbon in her dark hair, of fine linked
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  Speaker 1: gold chain showing at her neck. A very pretty picture
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  Speaker 1: she made, cool and fresh against the deep shade and
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  Speaker 1: the green, but of course she did not know it.
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  Speaker 1: She held the shaping kimono at arm's length admiring that
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  Speaker 1: ilicate color, and fell to work again. Oh the jolly miller.
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  Speaker 1: He lives by himself. As the wheel rolls round, he
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  Speaker 1: gathers in his felf, a hand in the hopper and
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  Speaker 1: another in the bag. As the wheel rolls round, he
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  Speaker 1: calls out grab. So intent and preoccupied was she that
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  Speaker 1: she did not hear the approaching horse. Good evening, Oh,
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  Speaker 1: miss Hoffman jumped, dropping the little suffering kimono. A horseman
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  Speaker 1: with bared head had reined up in the shaded road alongside.
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  Speaker 1: How silly of me not to hear you coming. If
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  Speaker 1: you're looking for mister Sutherland. He's not here, mister David Sutherland,
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  Speaker 1: that is. But mister Henry Sutherland is here, or was
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  Speaker 1: a while ago, maybe half an hour, since he was
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  Speaker 1: trying to get up a set of tennis. Perhaps they're
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  Speaker 1: playing over there on the other side of the house.
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  Speaker 1: And yet if they were there, we'd hear him laughing,
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  Speaker 1: don't you think, mister Bransford, For it was mister Bransford,
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  Speaker 1: and he was all dressed in clothes, waited with extreme
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  Speaker 1: patience for the conclusion of these feverish and hurried remarks.
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  Speaker 1: But I'm not looking for Sutherland. I'm looking for you, oh,
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  Speaker 1: said Eleanor again. Then, after a long and deliberate survey,
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  Speaker 1: the light of recognition donned slowly in her eyes. Oh
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  Speaker 1: I do know you, don't I to be sure I do?
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  Speaker 1: You are mister the gentleman I met on Rainbow Mountain
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  Speaker 1: near Mayhill. Mister Ah, yes, uh Bransford, Why so I am,
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  Speaker 1: said Jeff, leaning on the saddle horn. One half of
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  Speaker 1: mister Bransford wondered if he had not been making a
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  Speaker 1: fool of himself and taking a great deal for granted.
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  Speaker 1: The other half, though considerably alarmed, was not at all deceived.
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  Speaker 1: Miss Eleanor did not actually put her finger in the
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  Speaker 1: corner of her mouth. She merely looked as if she had. Oh,
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  Speaker 1: won't you er down? She said, helplessly. What a beautiful horse? Why, yes,
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  Speaker 1: thank you, I believe I will. He left the beautiful
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  Speaker 1: horse to stand with dangling reins, and they came over
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  Speaker 1: to the bench, silent and rather grim. Won't you sit down?
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  Speaker 1: Said Eleanor politely. Fine day, isn't it. It's a wonderful day,
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  Speaker 1: a marvelous day, a stupendous day, said this exasperated young man. No,
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  Speaker 1: I guess it's not worth while to sit down. I
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  Speaker 1: just wanted to find out where you lived. I asked
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  Speaker 1: you once before, you know, and you didn't tell me.
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  Speaker 1: Oh didn't I? Oh? Do sit down? You look so
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  Speaker 1: grumpy tired, I mean, rather grudgingly. She swept the sewing
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  Speaker 1: basket from the bench to the grass. Jeff's eyes followed
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  Speaker 1: the action. He saw, if you call it, seeing the
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  Speaker 1: snipped threads on the grass, the yet unpicked bastings white
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  Speaker 1: against the peach pink facing. But he was a mere man,
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  Speaker 1: hard circumstanced, and these eloquent tidings were wasted upon his
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  Speaker 1: clumsy intellect, as had been the surprising good fortune of
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  Speaker 1: finding miss Eleanor exactly where she was. Nerving himself with
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  Speaker 1: memory of the Quaker lady at the masquerade, if indeed
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  Speaker 1: that it ever really happened, Jeff took the offered seat.
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  Speaker 1: The young lady matched two edges together, smoothed them, eyed
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  Speaker 1: the result critically, and plied a nimble needle. Then she
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  Speaker 1: turned clear and guileless eyes on her glooming seat. Mate,
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  Speaker 1: you look older somehow than I thought you were, now
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  Speaker 1: that I remember, she observed, biting the thread. You've been
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  Speaker 1: away haven't you. I thought you were going away yourself
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  Speaker 1: so wild and fierce, said Jeff, evading been away. Indeed,
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  Speaker 1: Eleanor threaded her needle. Mamma was talking of going for
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  Speaker 1: a while, she said, tranquility. But I'm rather glad we didn't.
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  Speaker 1: We're having a splendid time here, and mister White's going
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  Speaker 1: to take us to the White Sands next week. He'll
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  Speaker 1: be down tomorrow at least, I think so. He's fine.
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  Speaker 1: He took us to Mescalero early in the spring. And
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  Speaker 1: the young people here at Rainbow's End are simply delightful.
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  Speaker 1: You must meet them. Listen, there they are now, I
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  Speaker 1: hear them. They are playing tennis. Come on up and
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  Speaker 1: I'll introduce you. I can finish this thing any time.
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  Speaker 1: She tossed the poor kimono into the basket. No, said
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  Speaker 1: this unhappy young man rising, I believe I'll go on back. Goodbye,
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  Speaker 1: Miss l Miss Hoffmann. I wish you much happiness. Why
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  Speaker 1: surely you're not going now? There are some nice girls here.
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  Speaker 1: They have heard so much of you, but they say
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  Speaker 1: they've never met you. Don't you want Jeff groaned, fumbling
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  Speaker 1: blindly at the bridle. No, I wish I'd never seen
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  Speaker 1: a girl. Why that's not very polite, is it? Are you?
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  Speaker 1: Are you mad at me? Said Eleanor in a meek
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  Speaker 1: little voice. Mad, oh no, said Jeff bitterly. I'm just
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  Speaker 1: coming to my senses. I've been dreaming. Now I've woke
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  Speaker 1: up angry. I mean, of course, I just say it
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  Speaker 1: that way. Are you mad at me? Sometimes? To be
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  Speaker 1: to be nice, mister Brandford, you needn't bother good bye,
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  Speaker 1: but I'll see you again, never when you're not so cross.
• 14:32
  Speaker 1: Jeff reached for his stirrup. Oh well, if you're going
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  Speaker 1: to be huffy, never it is, then by all means no. Wait,
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  Speaker 1: I must give you back your present. I have never
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  Speaker 1: given you a present some other man. Doubtless you should
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  Speaker 1: keep a list, said Jeff with bitter and cutting scorn.
• 14:52
  Speaker 1: The girl turned half away from him and hid her
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  Speaker 1: face with trembling hands. Her shoulders shook with emotion. Look
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  Speaker 1: the other away, sir, turn your head. You shall have
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  Speaker 1: your present back. And then, if you are so anxious
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  Speaker 1: to go, go, miss Hoffman. I never gave you a
• 15:09
  Speaker 1: present in my life, Jeff protested, you did sobbed Eleanor.
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  Speaker 1: She turned upon him, stamping her foot. You said when
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  Speaker 1: you gave it to me, that you hoped it would
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  Speaker 1: bring me good luck, and you forgotten you'd better keep
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  Speaker 1: a list. Turn your head away, I tell you. She
• 15:27
  Speaker 1: sank down on the bench, confused, mazed, bewildered. Jeff obeyed her.
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  Speaker 1: She sprang to her feet. She was laughing, blushing. Glowing
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  Speaker 1: in her hand was the little gold Jane. Now you
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  Speaker 1: may look. Hold out your hands, sir. Jeff's mind was whirling.
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  Speaker 1: He held out his hand. She laid a little gold
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  Speaker 1: locket in his palm. It was warm, that little locket.
• 15:53
  Speaker 1: I have never seen this lockett before in my life,
• 15:56
  Speaker 1: gasped Jeff. Open it. He opened it. The little eopus
• 16:01
  Speaker 1: glared up at him. Eleanor, Charlie Gibson, Toby, Jeff, Jamie.
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  Speaker 1: The little eopus stared unweaking from the grass. End of
• 16:14
  Speaker 1: chapter eighteen, end of Bransford of Rainbow Range by Eugene
• 16:19
  Speaker 1: Manlove Rhodes