A　LONELY　RIDE
  As　I　stepped　into　the　Slumgullion　stage　I　saw　that　it　was　a　dark
  night；　a　lonely　road；　and　that　I　was　the　only　passenger。　　Let　me
  assure　the　reader　that　I　have　no　ulterior　design　in　making　this
  assertion。　　A　long　course　of　light　reading　has　forewarned　me　what
  every　experienced　intelligence　must　confidently　look　for　from　such
  a　statement。　　The　storyteller　who　willfully　tempts　Fate　by　such
  obvious　beginnings；　who　is　to　the　expectant　reader　in　danger　of
  being　robbed　or　half…murdered；　or　frightened　by　an　escaped　lunatic；
  or　introduced　to　his　ladylove　for　the　first　time；　deserves　to　be
  detected。　　I　am　relieved　to　say　that　none　of　these　things　occurred
  to　me。　　The　road　from　Wingdam　to　Slumgullion　knew　no　other　banditti
  than　the　regularly　licensed　hotelkeepers；　lunatics　had　not　yet
  reached　such　depth　of　imbecility　as　to　ride　of　their　own　free　will
  in　California　stages；　and　my　Laura；　amiable　and　long…suffering　as
  she　always　is；　could　not；　I　fear；　have　borne　up　against　these
  depressing　circumstances　long　enough　to　have　made　the　slightest
  impression　on　me。
  I　stood　with　my　shawl　and　carpetbag　in　hand；　gazing　doubtingly　on
  the　vehicle。　　Even　in　the　darkness　the　red　dust　of　Wingdam　was
  visible　on　its　roof　and　sides；　and　the　red　slime　of　Slumgullion
  clung　tenaciously　to　its　wheels。　　I　opened　the　door；　the　stage
  creaked　easily；　and　in　the　gloomy　abyss　the　swaying　straps　beckoned
  me；　like　ghostly　hands；　to　come　in　now　and　have　my　sufferings　out
  at　once。
  I　must　not　omit　to　mention　the　occurrence　of　a　circumstance　which
  struck　me　as　appalling　and　mysterious。　　A　lounger　on　the　steps　of
  the　hotel；　who　I　had　reason　to　suppose　was　not　in　any　way　connected
  with　the　stage　company；　gravely　descended；　and　walking　toward　the
  conveyance；　tried　the　handle　of　the　door；　opened　it；　expectorated
  in　the　carriage；　and　returned　to　the　hotel　with　a　serious　demeanor。
  Hardly　had　he　resumed　his　position　when　another　individual；　equally
  disinterested；　impassively　walked　down　the　steps；　proceeded　to　the
  back　of　the　stage；　lifted　it；　expectorated　carefully　on　the　axle；
  and　returned　slowly　and　pensively　to　the　hotel。　　A　third　spectator
  wearily　disengaged　himself　from　one　of　the　Ionic　columns　of　the
  portico　and　walked　to　the　box；　remained　for　a　moment　in　serious　and
  expectorative　contemplation　of　the　boot；　and　then　returned　to　his
  column。　　There　was　something　so　weird　in　this　baptism　that　I　grew
  quite　nervous。
  Perhaps　I　was　out　of　spirits。　　A　number　of　infinitesimal
  annoyances；　winding　up　with　the　resolute　persistency　of　the　clerk
  at　the　stage　office　to　enter　my　name　misspelt　on　the　waybill；　had
  not　predisposed　me　to　cheerfulness。　　The　inmates　of　the　Eureka
  House；　from　a　social　viewpoint；　were　not　attractive。　　There　was　the
  prevailing　opinionso　common　to　many　honest　peoplethat　a　serious
  style　of　deportment　and　conduct　toward　a　stranger　indicates　high
  gentility　and　elevated　station。　　Obeying　this　principle；　all
  hilarity　ceased　on　my　entrance　to　supper；　and　general　remark　merged
  into　the　safer　and　uncompromising　chronicle　of　several　bad　cases　of
  diphtheria；　then　epidemic　at　Wingdam。　　When　I　left　the　dining…room；
  with　an　odd　feeling　that　I　had　been　supping　exclusively　on　mustard
  and　tea　leaves；　I　stopped　a　moment　at　the　parlor　door。　　A　piano；
  harmoniously　related　to　the　dinner　bell；　tinkled　responsive　to　a
  diffident　and　uncertain　touch。　　On　the　white　wall　the　shadow　of　an
  old　and　sharp　profile　was　bending　over　several　symmetrical　and
  shadowy　curls。　　〃I　sez　to　Mariar；　Mariar；　sez　I；　'Praise　to　the
  face　is　open　disgrace。'〃　　I　heard　no　more。　　Dreading　some
  susceptibility　to　sincere　expression　on　the　subject　of　female
  loveliness；　I　walked　away；　checking　the　compliment　that　otherwise
  might　have　risen　unbidden　to　my　lips；　and　have　brought　shame　and
  sorrow　to　the　household。
  It　was　with　the　memory　of　these　experiences　resting　heavily　upon　me
  that　I　stood　hesitatingly　before　the　stage　door。　　The　driver；　about
  to　mount；　was　for　a　moment　illuminated　by　the　open　door　of　the
  hotel。　　He　had　the　wearied　look　which　was　the　distinguishing
  expression　of　Wingdam。　　Satisfied　that　I　was　properly　waybilled　and
  receipted　for；　he　took　no　further　notice　of　me。　　I　looked　longingly
  at　the　box　seat；　but　he　did　not　respond　to　the　appeal。　　I　flung　my
  carpetbag　into　the　chasm；　dived　recklessly　after　it；　andbefore　I
  was　fairly　seatedwith　a　great　sigh；　a　creaking　of　unwilling
  springs；　complaining　bolts；　and　harshly　expostulating　axle；　we
  moved　away。　　Rather　the　hotel　door　slipped　behind；　the　sound　of　the
  piano　sank　to　rest；　and　the　night　and　its　shadows　moved　solemnly
  upon　us。
  To　say　it　was　dark　expressed　but　faintly　the　pitchy　obscurity　that
  encompassed　the　vehicle。　　The　roadside　trees　were　scarcely
  distinguishable　as　deeper　masses　of　shadow；　I　knew　them　only　by　the
  peculiar　sodden　odor　that　from　time　to　time　sluggishly　flowed　in　at
  the　open　window　as　we　rolled　by。　　We　proceeded　slowly；　so　leisurely
  that；　leaning　from　the　carriage；　I　more　than　once　detected　the
  fragrant　sigh　of　some　astonished　cow；　whose　ruminating　repose　upon
  the　highway　we　had　ruthlessly　disturbed。　　But　in　the　darkness　our
  progress；　more　the　guidance　of　some　mysterious　instinct　than　any
  apparent　volition　of　our　own；　gave　an　indefinable　charm　of　security
  to　our　journey　that　a　moment's　hesitation　or　indecision　on　the　part
  of　the　driver　would　have　destroyed。
  I　had　indulged　a　hope　that　in　the　empty　vehicle　I　might　obtain　that
  rest　so　often　denied　me　in　its　crowded　condition。　　It　was　a　weak
  delusion。　　When　I　stretched　out　my　limbs　it　was　only　to　find　that
  the　ordinary　conveniences　for　making　several　people　distinctly
  uncomfortable　were　distributed　throughout　my　individual　frame。　　At
  last；　resting　my　arms　on　the　straps；　by　dint　of　much　gymnastic
  effort　I　became　sufficiently　composed　to　be　aware　of　a　more　refined
  species　of　torture。　　The　springs　of　the　stage；　rising　and　falling
  regularly；　produced　a　rhythmical　beat　which　began　to　absorb　my
  attention　painfully。　　Slowly　this　thumping　merged　into　a　senseless
  echo　of　the　mysterious　female　of　the　hotel　parlor；　and　shaped
  itself　into　this　awful　and　benumbing　axiom〃Praise…to…the…face…is…
  open…disgrace。　　Praise…to…the…face…is…open…disgrace。〃　　Inequalities
  of　the　road　only　quickened　its　utterance　or　drawled　it　to　an
  exasperating　length。
  It　was　of　no　use　to　consider　the　statement　seriously。　　It　was　of　no
  use　to　except　to　it　indignantly。　　It　was　of　no　use　to　recall　the
  many　instances　where　praise　to　the　face　had　redounded　to　the
  everlasting　honor　of　praiser　and　bepraised；　of　no　use　to　dwell
  sentimentally　on　modest　genius　and　courage　lifted　up　and
  strengthened　by　open　commendation；　of　no　use　to　except　to　the
  mysterious　female；　to　picture　her　as　rearing　a　thin…blooded
  generation　on　selfish　and　mechanically　repeated　axiomsall　this
  failed　to　counteract　the　monotonous　repetition　of　this　sentence。
  There　was　nothing　to　do　but　to　give　inand　I　was　about　to　accept
  it　weakly；　as　we　too　often　treat　other　illusions　of　darkness　and
  necessity；　for　the　time　being；　when　I　became　aware　of　some　other
  annoyance　that　had　been　forcing　itself　upon　me　for　the　last　few
  moments。　　How　quiet　the　driver　was！
  Was　there　any　driver？　　Had　I　any　reason　to　suppose　that　he　was　not
  lying　gagged　and　bound　on　the　roadside；　and　the　highwayman　with
  blackened　face　who　did　the　thing　so　quietly　driving　mewhither？
  The　thing　is　perfectly　feasible。　　And　what　is　this　fancy　now　being
  jolted　out　of　me？　　A　story？　　It's　of　no　use　to　keep　it　back
  particularly　in　this　abysmal　vehicle；　and　here　it　comes：　I　am　a
  Marquisa　French　Marquis；　French；　because　the　peerage　is　not　so
  well　known；　and　the　country　is　better　adapted　to　romantic　incident
  a　Marquis；　because　the　democratic　reader　delights　in　the　nobility。
  My　name　is　something　LIGNY。　　I　am　coming　from　Paris　to　my　country
  seat　at　St。　Germain。　　It　is　a　dark　night；　and　I　fall　asleep　and
  tell　my　honest　coachman；　Andre；　not　to　disturb　me；　and　dream　of　an
  angel。　　The　carriage　at　last　stops　at　the　chateau。　　It　is　so　dark
  that　when　I　alight　I　do　not　recognize　the　face　of　the　footman　who
  holds　the　carriage　door。　　But　what　of　that？PESTE！　　I　am　heavy
  with　sleep。　　The　same　obscurity　also　hides　the　old　familiar
  indecencies　of　the　statues　on　the　terrace；　but　there　is　a　door；　and
  it　opens　and　shuts　behind　me　smartly。　　Then　I　find　myself　in　a
  trap；　in　the　presence　of　the　brigand　who　has　quietly　gagged　poor
  Andre　and　conducted　the　carriage　thither。　　There　is　nothing　for　me
  to　do；　as　a　gallant　French　Marquis；　but　to　say；　〃PARBLEU！〃　draw　my
  rapier；　and　die　valorously！　　I　am　found　a　week　or　two　after　outside
  a　deserted　cabaret　near　the　barrier；　with　a　hole　through　my　ruffled
  linen　and　my　pockets　stripped。　　No；　on　second　thoughts；　I　am
  rescuedrescued　by　the　angel　I　have　been　dreaming　of；　who　is　the
  assumed　daughter　of　the　brigand　but　the　real　daughter　of　an
  intima