"Yes,"he continued calmly."The Botanical Society I correspond with are more particular than the Government Survey.""Then you are doing this for a society?"demanded Teresa,with a stare.
"Certainly.I'm making a collection and classification of specimens.I intend--but what are you looking at?"Teresa had suddenly turned away.Putting his hand lightly on her shoulder,the young man brought her face to face him again.
She was laughing.
"I thought all the while it was for a girl,"she said;"and--"But here the mere effort of speech sent her off into an audible and genuine outburst of laughter.It was the first time he had seen her even smile other than bitterly.Characteristically unconscious of any humor in her error,he remained unembarrassed.
But he could not help noticing a change in the expression of her face,her voice,and even her intonation.It seemed as if that fit of laughter had loosed the last ties that bound her to a self-imposed character,had swept away the last barrier between her and her healthier nature,had dispossessed a painful unreality,and relieved the morbid tension of a purely nervous attitude.The change in her utterance and the resumption of her softer Spanish accent seemed to have come with her confidences,and Low took leave of her before their sylvan cabin with a comrade's heartiness,and a complete forgetfulness that her voice had ever irritated him.
When he returned that afternoon he was startled to find the cabin empty.But instead of bearing any appearance of disturbance or hurried flight,the rude interior seemed to have magically assumed a decorous order and cleanliness unknown before.Fresh bark hid the inequalities of the floor.The skins and blankets were folded in the corners,the rude shelves were carefully arranged,even a few tall ferns and bright but quickly fading flowers were disposed around the blackened chimney.She had evidently availed herself of the change of clothing he had brought her,for her late garments were hanging from the hastily-devised wooden pegs driven in the wall.The young man gazed around him with mixed feelings of gratification and uneasiness.
His presence had been dispossessed in a single hour;his ten years of lonely habitation had left no trace that this woman had not effaced with a deft move of her hand.More than that,it looked as if she had always occupied it;and it was with a singular conviction that even when she should occupy it no longer it would only revert to him as her dwelling that he dropped the bark shutters athwart the opening,and left it to follow her.
To his quick ear,fine eye,and abnormal senses,this was easy enough.She had gone in the direction of this morning's camp.
Once or twice he paused with a half-gesture of recognition and a characteristic "Good!"at the place where she had stopped,but was surprised to find that her main course had been as direct as his own.Deviating from this direct line with Indian precaution,he first made a circuit of the camp,and approached the shattered trunk from the opposite direction.He consequently came upon Teresa unawares.But the momentary astonishment and embarrassment were his alone.
He scarcely recognized her.She was wearing the garments he had brought her the day before--a certain discarded gown of Miss Nellie Wynn,which he had hurriedly begged from her under the pretext of clothing the wife of a distressed overland emigrant then on the way to the mines.Although he had satisfied his conscience with the intention of confessing the pious fraud to her when Teresa was gone and safe from pursuit,it was not without a sense of remorse that he witnessed the sacrilegious transformation.The two women were nearly the same height and size;and although Teresa's maturer figure accented the outlines more strongly,it was still becoming enough to increase his irritation.
Of this becomingness she was doubtless unaware at the moment that he surprised her.She was conscious of having "a change,"and this had emboldened her to "do her hair"and otherwise compose herself.After their greeting she was the first to allude to the dress,regretting that it was not more of a rough disguise,and that,as she must now discard the national habit of wearing her shawl "manta"fashion over her head,she wanted a hat."But you must not,"she said,"borrow any more dresses for me from your young woman.Buy them for me at some shop.They left me enough money for that."Low gently put aside the few pieces of gold she had drawn from her pocket,and briefly reminded her of the suspicion such a purchase by him would produce."That's so,"she said,with a laugh."Caramba!what a mule I'm becoming!Ah!
wait a moment.I have it!Buy me a common felt hat--a man's hat--as if for yourself,as a change to that animal,"pointing to the fox-tailed cap he wore summer and winter,"and I'll show you a trick.I haven't run a theatrical wardrobe for nothing."Nor had she,for the hat thus procured,a few days later,became,by the aid of a silk handkerchief and a bluejay's feather,a fascinating "pork pie."Whatever cause of annoyance to Low still lingered in Teresa's dress,it was soon forgotten in a palpable evidence of Teresa's value as a botanical assistant.It appeared that during the afternoon she had not only duplicated his specimens,but had discoverd one or two rare plants as yet unclassified in the flora of the Carquinez Woods.He was delighted,and in turn,over the campfire,yielded up some details of his present life and some of his earlier recollections.
"You don't remember anything of your father?"she asked."Did he ever try to seek you out?""No!Why should he?"replied the imperturbable Low;"he was not a Cherokee.""No,he was a beast,"responded Teresa promptly."And your mother--do you remember her?""No,I think she died."
"You THINK she died?Don't you know?"
"No!"
