Brown of Calaveras [pp. 284-290]

BROWN OF CALA VERAS.
BROWN OF CALAVERAS.
SUBDUED tone of conversation,
and the absence of cigar - smoke,
and boot-heels, at the windows of the
Wingdam stage-coach, made it evident
that one of the inside passengers was a
woman. A disposition on the part of
loungers, at the stations, to congregate
before the window, and some concern in
regard to the appearance of coats, hats,
and collars, further indicated that she
was lovely. All of which Mr. Jack Hamlin, on the box-seat, noted with the smile
of cynical philosophy. Not that he depreciated the sex, but that he recognized
therein a deceitful element, the pursuit
of which sometimes drew mankind away
from the equally uncertain blandishments
of poker-of which it may be remarked
that Mr. Hamlin was a professional exponent.
So that, when he placed his narrow
boot on the wheel and leaped down, he
did not even glance at the window from
which a green veil was fluttering, but
lounged up and down with that listless
and grave indifference of his class, which
was, perhaps, the next thing to goodbreeding. His closely buttoned figure,
and self-contained air, were in marked
contrast to the other passengers, and
their feverish restlessness, and boisterous emotion; and even Bill Masters, a
graduate of Harvard, with his slovenly
dress, his overflowing vitality, his intense appreciation of lawlessness and
barbarism, and his mouth filled with
crackers and cheese, I fear, cut but an
unromantic figure beside this lonely calculator of chances, with his pale Greek
face, and Homeric gravity.
The driver called "all aboard," and
Mr. Hamlin returned to the coach. His
foot was upon the wheel, and his face
raised to the level of the open window,
when, at the same moment, what appeared to him to be the finest eyes in the
world, suddenly met his. He quietly
dropped down again, addressed a few
words to one of the inside passengers,
effected an exchange of seats, and as
quietly took his place inside. Mr. Hamlin never allowed his philosophy to interfere with decisive and prompt action.
I fear that this irruption of Jack cast
some restraint upon the other passengers-particularly those who were making themselves most agreeable to the
lady. One of them leaned forward, and
apparently conveyed to her information
regarding Mr. Hamlin's profession, in a
single epithet. Whether Mr. Hamlin
heard it, or whether he recognized in
the informant a distinguished jurist, from
whom, but a few evenings before, he had
won several thousand dollars, I can not
say. His colorless face betrayed no sign;
his black eyes, quietly observant, glanced indifferently past the legal gentleman,
and rested on the much more pleasing
features of his neighbor. An Indian
stoicism-said to be an inheritance from
his maternal ancestor-stood him in good
service, until the rolling wheels rattled
upon the river-gravel at Scott's Ferry,
and the stage drew up at the International Hotel, for dinner. The legal gentleman and a Member of Congress leaped out, and stood ready to assist the
descending goddess, while Colonel Starbottle, of Siskiyou, took charge of her
parasol and shawl. In this multiplicity
of attention, there was a momentary
confusion and delay. Jack Hamlin quietly opened the opfosite door of the
coach, took the lady's hand-with that
decision and positiveness which a hesi
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