a ward of the golden gate(金门一区)

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A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

A WARD OF THE

GOLDEN GATE

Bret Harte

A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

PROLOGUE.

In San Francisco the "rainy season" had been making itself a reality

to the wondering Eastern immigrant. There were short days of drifting

clouds and flying sunshine, and long succeeding nights of incessant

downpour, when the rain rattled on the thin shingles or drummed on the

resounding zinc of pioneer roofs. The shifting sand-dunes on the outskirts

were beaten motionless and sodden by the onslaught of consecutive storms;

the southeast trades brought the saline breath of the outlying Pacific even

to the busy haunts of Commercial and Kearney streets; the low-lying

Mission road was a quagmire; along the City Front, despite of piles and

pier and wharf, the Pacific tides still asserted themselves in mud and ooze

as far as Sansome Street; the wooden sidewalks of Clay and Montgomery

streets were mere floating bridges or buoyant pontoons superposed on

elastic bogs; Battery Street was the Silurian beach of that early period on

which tin cans, packing-boxes, freight, household furniture, and even the

runaway crews of deserted ships had been cast away. There were

dangerous and unknown depths in Montgomery Street and on the Plaza,

and the wheels of a passing carriage hopelessly mired had to be lifted by

the volunteer hands of a half dozen high-booted wayfarers, whose wearers

were sufficiently content to believe that a woman, a child, or an invalid

was behind its closed windows, without troubling themselves or the

occupant by looking through the glass.

It was a carriage that, thus released, eventually drew up before the

superior public edifice known as the City Hall. From it a woman, closely

veiled, alighted, and quickly entered the building. A few passers-by turned

to look at her, partly from the rarity of the female figure at that period, and

partly from the greater rarity of its being well formed and even ladylike.

As she kept her way along the corridor and ascended an iron staircase,

she was passed by others more preoccupied in business at the various

public offices. One of these visitors, however, stopped as if struck by some

fancied resemblance in her appearance, turned, and followed her. But

when she halted before a door marked "Mayor's Office," he paused also,

and, with a look of half humorous bewilderment and a slight glance

A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

around him as if seeking for some one to whom to impart his arch fancy,

he turned away. The woman then entered a large anteroom with a certain

quick feminine gesture of relief, and, finding it empty of other callers,

summoned the porter, and asked him some question in a voice so

suppressed by the official severity of the apartment as to be hardly audible.

The attendant replied by entering another room marked "Mayor's

Secretary," and reappeared with a stripling of seventeen or eighteen,

whose singularly bright eyes were all that was youthful in his composed

features. After a slight scrutiny of the woman-- half boyish, half official--

he desired her to be seated, with a certain exaggerated gravity as if he was

over-acting a grown-up part, and, taking a card from her, reentered his

office. Here, however, he did NOT stand on his head or call out a

confederate youth from a closet, as the woman might have expected. To

the left was a green baize door, outlined with brass-studded rivets like a

cheerful coffin-lid, and bearing the mortuary inscription, "Private." This he

pushed open, and entered the Mayor's private office.

The municipal dignitary of San Francisco, although an erect, soldier-

like man of strong middle age, was seated with his official chair tilted

back against the wall and kept in position by his feet on the rungs of

another, which in turn acted as a support for a second man, who was

seated a few feet from him in an easy-chair. Both were lazily smoking.

The Mayor took the card from his secretary, glanced at it, said

"Hullo!" and handed it to his companion, who read aloud "Kate Howard,"

and gave a prolonged whistle.

"Where is she?" asked the Mayor.

"In the anteroom, sir."

"Any one else there?"

"No, sir."

"Did you say I was engaged?"

"Yes, sir; but it appears she asked Sam who was with you, and when

he told her, she said, All right, she wanted to see Colonel Pendleton too."

The men glanced interrogatively at each other, but Colonel Pendleton,

abruptly anticipating the Mayor's functions, said, "Have her in," and

settled himself back in his chair.

A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

A moment later the door opened, and the stranger appeared. As she

closed the door behind her she removed her heavy veil, and displayed the

face of a very handsome woman of past thirty. It is only necessary to add

that it was a face known to the two men, and all San Francisco.

"Well, Kate," said the Mayor, motioning to a chair, but without rising

or changing his attitude. "Here I am, and here is Colonel Pendleton, and

these are office hours. What can we do for you?"

If he had received her with magisterial formality, or even politely, she

would have been embarrassed, in spite of a certain boldness of her dark

eyes and an ever present consciousness of her power. It is possible that his

own ease and that of his companion was part of their instinctive good

nature and perception. She accepted it as such, took the chair familiarly,

and seated herself sideways upon it, her right arm half encircling its back

and hanging over it; altogether an easy and not ungraceful pose.

"Thank you, Jack--I mean, Mr. Mayor--and you, too, Harry. I came on

business. I want you two men to act as guardians for my little daughter."

"Your what?" asked the two men simultaneously.

"My daughter," she repeated, with a short laugh, which, however,

ended with a note of defiance. "Of course you don't know. Well," she

added half aggressively, and yet with the air of hurrying over a

compromising and inexplicable weakness, "the long and short of it is I've

got a little girl down at the Convent of Santa Clara, and have had--there!

I've been taking care of her--GOOD care, too, boys--for some time. And

now I want to put things square for her for the future. See? I want to make

over to her all my property-- it's nigh on to seventy-five thousand dollars,

for Bob Snelling put me up to getting those water lots a year ago--and, you

see, I'll have to have regular guardians, trustees, or whatever you call 'em,

to take care of the money for her."

"Who's her father?" asked the Mayor.

"What's that to do with it?" she said impetuously.

"Everything--because he's her natural guardian."

"Suppose he isn't known? Say dead, for instance."

"Dead will do," said the Mayor gravely. "Yes, dead will do," repeated

Colonel Pendleton. After a pause, in which the two men seemed to have

A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

buried this vague relative, the Mayor looked keenly at the woman.

"Kate, have you and Bob Ridley had a quarrel?"

"Bob Ridley knows too much to quarrel with me," she said briefly.

"Then you are doing this for no motive other than that which you tell

me?"

"Certainly. That's motive enough--ain't it?"

"Yes." The Mayor took his feet off his companion's chair and sat

upright. Colonel Pendleton did the same, also removing his cigar from his

lips. "I suppose you'll think this thing over?" he added.

"No--I want it done NOW--right here--in this office."

"But you know it will be irrevocable."

"That's what I want it--something might happen afterwards."

"But you are leaving nothing for yourself, and if you are going to

devote everything to this daughter and lead a different life, you'll"--

"Who said I was?"

The two men paused, and looked at her. "Look here, boys, you don't

understand. From the day that paper is signed, I've nothing to do with the

child. She passes out of my hands into yours, to be schooled, educated,

and made a rich girl out of--and never to know who or what or where I am.

She doesn't know now. I haven't given her and myself away in that style--

you bet! She thinks I'm only a friend. She hasn't seen me more than once

or twice, and not to know me again. Why, I was down there the other day,

and passed her walking out with the Sisters and the other scholars, and she

didn't know me--though one of the Sisters did. But they're mum--THEY

are, and don't let on. Why, now I think of it, YOU were down there, Jack,

presiding in big style as Mr. Mayor at the exercises. You must have

noticed her. Little thing, about nine--lot of hair, the same color as mine,

and brown eyes. White and yellow sash. Had a necklace on of real pearls I

gave her. I BOUGHT THEM, you understand, myself at Tucker's--gave

two hundred and fifty dollars for them--and a big bouquet of white

rosebuds and lilacs I sent her."

"I remember her now on the platform," said the Mayor gravely. "So

that is your child?"

"You bet--no slouch either. But that's neither here nor there. What I

A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

want now is you and Harry to look after her and her property the same as

if I didn't live. More than that, as if I had NEVER LIVED. I've come to

you two boys, because I reckon you're square men and won't give me

away. But I want to fix it even firmer than that. I want you to take hold of

this trust not as Jack Hammersley, but as the MAYOR OF SAN

FRANCISCO! And when you make way for a new Mayor, HE takes up

the trust by virtue of his office, you see, so there's a trustee all along. I

reckon there'll always be a San Francisco and always a Mayor--at least till

the child's of age; and it gives her from the start a father, and a pretty big

one too. Of course the new man isn't to know the why and wherefore of

this. It's enough for him to take on that duty with his others, without

asking questions. And he's only got to invest that money and pay it out as

it's wanted, and consult Harry at times."

The two men looked at each other with approving intelligence. "But

have you thought of a successor for ME, in case somebody shoots me on

sight any time in the next ten years?" asked Pendleton, with a gravity

equal to her own.

"I reckon, as you're President of the El Dorado Bank, you'll make that

a part of every president's duty too. You'll get the directors to agree to it,

just as Jack here will get the Common Council to make it the Mayor's

business."

The two men had risen to their feet, and, after exchanging glances,

gazed at her silently. Presently the Mayor said:--

"It can be done, Kate, and we'll do it for you--eh, Harry?"

"Count me in," said Pendleton, nodding. "But you'll want a third man."

"What's that for?"

"The casting vote in case of any difficulty."

The woman's face fell. "I reckoned to keep it a secret with only you

two," she said half bitterly.

"No matter. We'll find some one to act, or you'll think of somebody

and let us know."

"But I wanted to finish this thing right here," she said impatiently. She

was silent for a moment, with her arched black brows knitted. Then she

said abruptly, "Who's that smart little chap that let me in? He looks as if he

A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

might be trusted."

"That's Paul Hathaway, my secretary. He's sensible, but too young.

Stop! I don't know about that. There's no legal age necessary, and he's got

an awfully old head on him," said the Mayor thoughtfully.

"And I say his youth's in his favor," said Colonel Pendleton, promptly.

"He's been brought up in San Francisco, and he's got no d--d old-fashioned

Eastern notions to get rid of, and will drop into this as a matter of business,

without prying about or wondering. I'LL serve with him."

"Call him in!" said the woman.

He came. Very luminous of eye, and composed of lip and brow. Yet

with the same suggestion of "making believe" very much, as if to offset

the possible munching of forbidden cakes and apples in his own room, or

the hidden presence of some still in his pocket.

The Mayor explained the case briefly, but with business-like precision.

"Your duty, Mr. Hathaway," he concluded, "at present will be merely

nominal and, above all, confidential. Colonel Pendleton and myself will

set the thing going." As the youth--who had apparently taken in and

"illuminated" the whole subject with a single bright-eyed glance--bowed

and was about to retire, as if to relieve himself of his real feelings behind

the door, the woman stopped him with a gesture.

"Let's have this thing over now," she said to the Mayor. "You draw up

something that we can all sign at once." She fixed her eyes on Paul, partly

to satisfy her curiosity and justify her predilection for him, and partly to

detect him in any overt act of boyishness. But the youth simply returned

her glance with a cheerful, easy prescience, as if her past lay clearly open

before him. For some minutes there was only the rapid scratching of the

Mayor's pen over the paper. Suddenly he stopped and looked up.

"What's her name?"

"She mustn't have mine, said the woman quickly. "That's a part of my

idea. I give that up with the rest. She must take a new name that gives no

hint of me. Think of one, can't you, you two men? Something that would

kind of show that she was the daughter of the city, you know."

"You couldn't call her 'Santa Francisca,' eh?" said Colonel Pendleton,

doubtingly.

A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

"Not much," said the woman, with a seriousness that defied any

ulterior insinuation.

"Nor Chrysopolinia?" said the Mayor, musingly.

"But that's only a FIRST name. She must have a family name," said

the woman impatiently.

"Can YOU think of something, Paul?" said the Mayor, appealing to

Hathaway. "You're a great reader, and later from your classics than I am."

The Mayor, albeit practical and Western, liked to be ostentatiously

forgetful of his old Alma Mater, Harvard, on occasions.

"How would YERBA BUENA do, sir?" responded the youth gravely.

"It's the old Spanish title of the first settlement here. It comes from the

name that Father Junipero Serra gave to the pretty little vine that grows

wild over the sandhills, and means 'good herb.' He called it 'A balm for the

wounded and sore.'"

"For the wounded and sore?" repeated the woman slowly.

"That's what they say," responded Hathaway.

"You ain't playing us, eh?" she said, with a half laugh that, however,

scarcely curved the open mouth with which she had been regarding the

young secretary.

"No," said the Mayor, hurriedly. "It's true. I've often heard it. And a

capital name it would be for her too. YERBA the first name. BUENA the

second. She could be called Miss Buena when she grows up."

"Yerba Buena it is," she said suddenly. Then, indicating the youth with

a slight toss of her handsome head, "His head's level--you can see that."

There was a silence again, and the scratching of the Mayor's pen

continued. Colonel Pendleton buttoned up his coat, pulled his long

moustache into shape, slightly arranged his collar, and walked to the

window without looking at the woman. Presently the Mayor arose from

his seat, and, with a certain formal courtesy that had been wanting in his

previous manner, handed her his pen and arranged his chair for her at the

desk. She took the pen, and rapidly appended her signature to the paper.

The others followed; and, obedient to a sign from him, the porter was

summoned from the outer office to witness the signatures. When this was

over, the Mayor turned to his secretary. "That's all just now, Paul."

A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

Accepting this implied dismissal with undisturbed gravity, the newly

made youthful guardian bowed and retired. When the green baize door had

closed upon him, the Mayor turned abruptly to the woman with the paper

in his hand.

"Look here, Kate; there is still time for you to reconsider your action,

and tear up this solitary record of it. If you choose to do so, say so, and I

promise you that this interview, and all you have told us, shall never pass

beyond these walls. No one will be the wiser for it, and we will give you

full credit for having attempted something that was too much for you to

perform."

She had half risen from her chair when he began, but fell back again in

her former position and looked impatiently from him to his companion,

who was also regarding her earnestly.

"What are you talking about?" she said sharply.

"YOU, Kate," said the Mayor. "You have given everything you possess

to this child. What provision have you made for yourself?"

"Do I look played out?" she said, facing them.

She certainly did not look like anything but a strong, handsome,

resolute woman, but the men did not reply.

"That is not all, Kate," continued the Mayor, folding his arms and

looking down upon her. "Have you thought what this means? It is the

complete renunciation not only of any claim but any interest in your child.

That is what you have just signed, and what it will be our duty now to

keep you to. From this moment we stand between you and her, as we stand

between her and the world. Are you ready to see her grow up away from

you, losing even the little recollection she has had of your kindness--

passing you in the street without knowing you, perhaps even having you

pointed out to her as a person she should avoid? Are you prepared to shut

your eyes and ears henceforth to all that you may hear of her new life,

when she is happy, rich, respectable, a courted heiress--perhaps the wife of

some great man? Are you ready to accept that she will never know-- that

no one will ever know--that you had any share in making her so, and that

if you should ever breathe it abroad we shall hold it our duty to deny it,

and brand the man who takes it up for you as a liar and the slanderer of an

A WARD OF THE GOLDEN GATE

honest girl?"

"That's what I came here for," she said curtly, then, regarding them

curiously, and running her ringed hand up and down the railed back of her

chair, she added, with a half laugh, "What are you playin' me for, boys?"

"But," said Colonel Pendleton, without heeding her, "are you ready to

know that in sickness or affliction you will be powerless to help her; that a

stranger will take your place at her bedside, that as she has lived without

knowing you she will die without that knowledge, or that if through any

weakness of yours it came to her then, it would embitter her last thoughts

of earth and, dying, she would curse you?"

The smile upon her half-open mouth still fluttered around it, and her

curved fingers still ran up and down the rails of the chair- back as if they

were the cords of some mute instrument, to which she was trying to give

voice. Her rings once or twice grated upon them as if she had at times

gripped them closely. But she rose quickly when he paused, said "Yes,"

sharply, and put the chair back against the wall.

"Then I will send you copies of this tomorrow, and take an assignment

of the property."

"I've got the check here for it now," she said, drawing it from her

pocket and laying it upon the desk. "There, I reckon that's finished. Good-

by!"

The Mayor took up his hat, Colonel Pendleton did the same; both men

preceded her to the door, and held it open with grave politeness for her to

pass.

"Where are you boys going?" she asked, glancing from the one to the

other.

"To see you to your carriage, Mrs. Howard," said the Mayor, in a voice

that had become somewhat deeper.

"Through the whole building? Past all the people in the hall and on the

stairs? Why, I passed Dan Stewart as I came in."

"If you will allow us?" he said, turning half appealing to Colonel

Pendleton, who, without speaking, made a low bow of assent.

A slight flush rose to her face--the first and only change in the even

healthy color she had shown during the interview.

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AWARDOFTHEGOLDENGATE1AWARDOFTHEGOLDENGATEBretHarteAWARDOFTHEGOLDENGATE2PROLOGUE.InSanFranciscothe"rainyseason"hadbeenmakingitselfarealitytothewonderingEasternimmigrant.Therewereshortdaysofdriftingcloudsandflyingsunshine,andlongsucceedingnightsofincessantdownpour,whentherainrattledonthethinshinglesor...

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