A Ward of Colonel Starbottle's Page #7

"A Ward of Colonel Starbottle's" is a short story by Bret Harte that revolves around themes of love, social class, and the complexities of human relationships in the American West. The narrative follows Colonel Starbottle, a colorful and charismatic character, as he navigates the challenges of caring for his ward, a young woman named Miss Isabel from a respectable family. The story explores the interactions between the Colonel, his ward, and other characters in their small community, blending humor and poignant moments to highlight the contrasts between societal expectations and individual desires. Through engaging storytelling, Harte captures the spirit of frontier life while delving into the intricacies of personal connections.

• Short story

								

lips on the crown of her dark head, and as her small arms clipped his
neck, drew her closely to his side. The child uttered a slight cry; the
colonel hurriedly put his hand to his breast. Her round cheek had
come in contact with his derringer--a small weapon of beauty and
precision--which invariably nestled also at his side, in his waistcoat
pocket. The child laughed; so did the colonel, but his cheek flushed
mightily.

It was four months later, and a turbulent night. The early rains,
driven by a strong southwester against the upper windows of the Magnolia
Restaurant, sometimes blurred the radiance of the bright lights within,
and the roar of the encompassing pines at times drowned the sounds
of song and laughter that rose from a private supper room. Even the
clattering arrival and departure of the Sacramento stage coach, which
disturbed the depths below, did not affect these upper revelers. For
Colonel Starbottle, Jack Hamlin, Judge Beeswinger, and Jo Wynyard,
assisted by Mesdames Montague, Montmorency, Bellefield, and "Tinky"
Clifford, of the "Western Star Combination Troupe," then performing "on
tour," were holding "high jinks" in the supper room. The colonel had
been of late moody, irritable, and easily upset. In the words of a
friend and admirer, "he was kam only at twelve paces."

In a lull in the general tumult a Chinese waiter was seen at the door
vainly endeavoring to attract the attention of the colonel by signs
and interjections. Mr. Hamlin's quick eye first caught sight of the
intruder. "Come in, Confucius," said Jack pleasantly; "you're a trifle
late for a regular turn, but any little thing in the way of knife
swallowing"--

"Lill missee to see connle! Waitee waitee, bottom side housee,"
interrupted the Chinaman, dividing his speech between Jack and the
colonel.

"What! ANOTHER lady? This is no place for me!" said Jack, rising with
finely simulated decorum.

"Ask her up," chirped "Tinky" Clifford.

But at this moment the door opened against the Chinaman, and a small
figure in a cloak and hat, dripping with raindrops, glided swiftly in.
After a moment's half-frightened, half-admiring glance at the party,
she darted forward with a little cry and threw her wet arms round the
colonel. The rest of the company, arrested in their festivity, gasped
with vague and smiling wonder; the colonel became purple and gasped.
But only for a moment. The next instant he was on his legs, holding the
child with one hand, while with the other he described a stately sweep
of the table.

"My ward--Miss Pansy Stannard," he said with husky brevity. But drawing
the child aside, he whispered quickly, "What has happened? Why are you
here?"

But Pansy, child-like, already diverted by the lights, the table piled
with delicacies, the gayly dressed women, and the air of festivity,
answered half abstractedly, and as much, perhaps, to the curious eyes
about her as to the colonel's voice,--

"I runned away!"

"Hush!" whispered the colonel, aghast.

But Pansy, responding again to the company rather than her guardian's
counsel, and as if appealing to them, went on half poutingly: "Yes! I
runned away because they teased me! Because they didn't like you and
said horrid things. Because they told awful, dreadful lies! Because they
said I wasn't no orphan!--that my name wasn't Stannard, and that you'd
made it all up. Because they said I was a liar--and YOU WAS MY FATHER!"

A sudden outbreak of laughter here shook the room, and even drowned
the storm outside; again and again it rose, as the colonel staggered
gaspingly to his feet. For an instant it seemed as if his struggles to
restrain himself would end in an apoplectic fit. Perhaps it was for this
reason that Jack Hamlin checked his own light laugh and became alert
and grave. Yet the next moment Colonel Starbottle went as suddenly dead
white, as leaning over the table he said huskily, but deliberately, "I
must request the ladies present to withdraw."

"Don't mind US, Colonel," said Judge Beeswinger, "it's all in the family
here, you know! And now I look at the girl--hang it all! she DOES favor
you, old man. Ha! ha!"

"And as for the ladies," said Wynyard with a weak, vinous laugh, "unless
any of 'em is inclined to take the matter as PERSONAL--eh?"

"Stop!" roared the colonel.

There was no mistaking his voice nor his intent now. The two men,
insulted and instantly sobered, were silent. Mr. Hamlin rose, playfully
but determinedly tapped his fair companions on the shoulders, saying,
"Run away and play, girls," actually bundled them, giggling and
protesting, from the room, closed the door, and stood with his back
against it. Then it was seen that the colonel, still very white, was
holding the child by the hand, as she shrank back wonderingly and a
little frightened against him.

"I thank YOU, Mr. Hamlin," said the colonel in a lower voice--yet with a
slight touch of his habitual stateliness in it, "for being here to bear
witness, in the presence of this child, to my unqualified statement that
a more foul, vile, and iniquitous falsehood never was uttered than that
which has been poured into her innocent ears!" He paused, walked to the
door, still holding her hand, and, as Mr. Hamlin stepped aside, opened
it, told her to await him in the public parlor, closed the door again,
and once more faced the two men. "And," he continued more deliberately,
"for the infamous jests that you, Judge Beeswinger, and you, Mr.
Wynyard, have dared to pass in her presence and mine, I shall expect
from each of you the fullest satisfaction--personal satisfaction. My
seconds will wait on you in the morning!"

The two men stood up sobered--yet belligerent.

"As you like, sir," said Beeswinger, flashing.

"The sooner the better for me," added Wynyard curtly.

They passed the unruffled Jack Hamlin with a smile and a vaguely
significant air, as if calling him as a witness to the colonel's
madness, and strode out of the room.

As the door closed behind them, Mr. Hamlin lightly settled his white
waistcoat, and, with his hands on his hips, lounged towards the colonel.
"And THEN?" he said quietly.

"Eh?" said the colonel.

"After you've shot one or both of these men, or one of 'em has knocked
you out, what's to become of that child?"

"If--I am--er--spared, sir," said the colonel huskily, "I shall continue
to defend her--against calumny and sneers"--

"In this style, eh? After her life has been made a hell by her
association with a man of your reputation, you propose to whitewash it
by a quarrel with a couple of drunken scallawags like Beeswinger and
Wynyard, in the presence of three painted trollops and a d----d scamp
like myself! Do you suppose this won't be blown all over California
before she can be sent back to school? Do you suppose those cackling
hussies in the next room won't give the whole story away to the next man
who stands treat?" (A fine contempt for the sex in general was one of

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