[Illustration: _Gertrude Atherton_ PHOTOGRAPHED BY MRS. LOUNSBERY]

THE DOOMSWOMAN

An Historical Romance of Old California

By

Gertrude Atherton

[Illustration]

1900

To

STEPHEN FRANKLIN

THE DOOMSWOMAN. 

I. 

It was at Governor Alvarado's house in Monterey that Chonita firstknew of Diego Estenega. I had told him much of her, but had nevercared to mention the name of Estenega in the presence of an Iturbi yMoncada. 

Chonita came to Monterey to stand godmother to the child of Alvaradoand of her friend Doña Martina, his wife. She arrived the morningbefore the christening, and no one thought to tell her that Estenegawas to be godfather. The house was full of girls, relatives ofthe young mother, gathered for the ceremony and subsequent week offestivities. Benicia, my little one, was at the rancho with YsabelHerrera, and I was staying with the Alvarados. So many were the gueststhat Chonita and I slept together. We had not seen each other for ayear, and had so much to say that we did not sleep at all. She wasten years younger than I, but we were as close friends as she with heralternate frankness and reserve would permit. But I had spent severalmonths of each year since childhood at her home in Santa Barbara, and I knew her better than she knew herself; when, later, I read herjournal, I found little in it to surprise me, but much to fill andcover with shapely form the skeleton of the story which passed ingreater part before my eyes. 

We were discussing the frivolous mysteries of dress, if I rememberaright, when she laid her hand on my mouth suddenly. 

"Hush!" she said. 

A caballero serenaded his lady at midnight in Monterey. 

The tinkle of a guitar, the jingling of spurs, fell among the strongtones of a man's voice. 

Chonita had been serenaded until she had fled to the mountains forsleep, but she crept to the foot of the bed and knelt there, herhand at her throat. A door opened, and, one by one, out of the blackbeyond, five white-robed forms flitted into the room. They looked likepuffs of smoke from a burning moon. The heavy wooden shutters wereopen, and the room was filled with cold light. 

The girls waltzed on the bare floor, grouped themselves inmock-dramatic postures, then, overcome by the strange magnetism of thesinger, fell into motionless attitudes, listening intently. How wellI remember that picture, although I have almost forgotten the names ofthe girls!

In the middle of the room two slender figures embraced each other, their black hair falling loosely over their white gowns. On thewindow-step knelt a tall girl, her head pensively supported by herhand, a black shawl draped gracefully about her; at her feet sata girl with head bowed to her knees. Between the two groups was asolitary figure, kneeling with hand pressed to the wall and faceuplifted. 

When the voice ceased I struck a match, and five pairs of little handsapplauded enthusiastically. He sang them another song, then gallopedaway. 

"It is Don Diego Estenega, " said one of the girls. "He rarely sings, but I have heard him before. "

"An Estenega!" exclaimed Chonita. 

"Yes; of the North, thou knowest. His Excellency thinks there isno man in the Californias like him, --so bold and so smart. Thourememberest the books that were burned by the priests when thegovernor was a boy, because he had dared to read them, no? Well, whenDiego Estenega heard of that, he made his father send to Boston andMexico for those books and many more, and took them up to his redwoodforests in the north, far away from the priests. And they say he hadread other books before, although such a lad; his father had broughtthem from Spain, and never cared much for the priests. And he has beento Mexico and America and Europe! God of my soul! it is said that heknows more than his Excellency himself, --that his mind works faster. Ay! but there was a time when he was wild, --when the mescal burnthis throat like hornets and the aguardiente was like scorpions inhis brain; but that was long ago, before he was twenty; now he isthirty-four. He amuses himself sometimes with the girls, --_valgameDios!_ he has made hot tears flow, --but I suppose we do not knowenough for him, for he marries none. Ay! but he has a charm. "

"Like what does he look? A beautiful caballero, I suppose, with eyesthat melt and a mouth that trembles like a woman in the palsy. "

"Ay, no, my Chonita; thou art wrong. He is not beautiful at all. He israther haggard, and wears no mustache, and he has the profile of thegreat man, fine and aquiline and severe, excepting when he smiles, andthen sometimes he looks kind and sometimes he looks like a devil. Hehas not the beauty of color; his hair is brown, I think, and his eyesare gray, and set far back; but how they flash! I think they couldburn if they looked too long. He is tall and straight and very strong, not so indolent as most of our men. They call him The American becausehe moves so quickly and gets so cross when people do not think fastenough. _He_ thinks like lightning strikes. Ay! they all say that hewill be governor in his time; that he would have been long ago, but hehas been away so much. It must be that he has seen and admired thee, my Chonita, and discovered thy grating. Thou art happy that thou toohast read the books. Thou and he will be great friends, I know!"

"Yes!" exclaimed Chonita, scornfully. "It is likely. Thou hastforgotten--perhaps--the enmity between the Capulets and the Montagueswas a sallow flame to the bitter hatred, born of jealousy in love, politics, and social precedence, which exists between the Estenegasand the Iturbi y Moncadas?"

II. 

Delfina, the first child of Alvarado, born in the purple at thegovernor's mansion in Monterey, was about to be baptized with all thepomp and ceremony of the Church and time. Doña Martina, the wife ofa year, was unable to go to the church, but lay beneath her lace andsatin coverlet, her heavy black hair half covering the other side ofthe bed. Beside her stood the nurse, a fat, brown, high-beaked oldcrone, holding a mass of grunting lace. I stood at the foot of thebed, admiring the picture. 

"Be careful for the sun, Tomasa, " said the mother. "Her eyes must bestrong, like the Alvarados', --black and keen and strong. "

"Sure, señora. "

"And let her not smother, nor yet take cold. She must grow tall andstrong, --like the Alvarados. "

"Sure, señora. "

"Where is his Excellency?"

"I am here. " And Alvarado entered the room. He looked amused, andprobably had overheard the conversation. He justified, however, theadmiration of his young wife. His tall military figure had the perfectpoise and suggestion of power natural to a man whose genius hadbeen recognized by the Mexican government before he had entered histwenties. The clean-cut face, with its calm profile and fieryeyes, was not that of the Washington of his emulation, and I neverunderstood why he chose so tame a model. Perhaps because of themeagerness of that early proscribed literature; or did the title"Father of his Country" appeal irresistibly to that lofty and doomedambition?

He passed his hand over his wife's long white fingers, but did notoffer her any other caress in my presence. 

"How dost thou feel?"

"Well; but I shall be lonely. Do not stay long at the church, no?How glad I am that Chonita came in time for the christening! What abeautiful _comadre_ she will be! I have just seen her. Ay, poor Diego!he will fall in love with her; and what then?"

"It would have been better had she come too late, I think. To avoidasking Diego to stand for my first child was impossible, for he is theman of men to me. To avoid asking Doña Chonita was equally impossible, I suppose, and it will be painful for both. He serenaded her lastnight, not knowing who she was, but having seen her at her grating; heonly returned yesterday. I hope she plants no thorns in his heart. "

"Perhaps they will marry and bind the wounds, " suggested the woman. 

"An Estenega and an Iturbi y Moncada will not marry. He might forget, for he is passionate and of a nature to break down barriers when awish is dear; but she has all the wrongs of all the Iturbi y Moncadason her white shoulders, and all their pride in the carriage of herhead; to say nothing of that brother whom she adores. She learned thismorning that it was Diego's determined opposition that kept Reinaldoout of the Departmental Junta, and meets him in no tender frame ofmind----"

Doña Martina raised her hand. Chonita stood in the door-way. She wasquite beautiful enough to plant thorns where she listed. Her tallsupple figure was clothed in white, and over her gold hair--lurid andbrilliant, but without a tinge of red--she wore a white lace mantilla. Her straight narrow brows and heavy lashes were black; but her skinwas more purely white than her gown. Her nose was finely cut, the archalmost indiscernible, and she had the most sculptured mouth I haveever seen. Her long eyes were green, dark, and luminous. Sometimesthey had the look of a child, sometimes she allowed them to flashwith the fire of an animated spirit. But the expression she chose tocultivate was that associated with crowned head and sceptered hand;and sure no queen had ever looked so calm, so inexorable, so haughty, so terribly clear of vision. She never posed--for any one, at least, but herself. For some reason--a youthful reason probably--the iron inher nature was most admired by her. Wherefore, --also, as she had thepower, as twin, to heal and curse, --I had named her the Doomswoman, and by this name she was known far and wide. By the lower class ofSanta Barbara she was called The Golden Señorita, on account of herhair and of her father's vast wealth. 

"Come, " she said, "every one is waiting. Do not you hear the voices?"

The windows were closed, but through them came a murmur like that of apine forest. 

The governor motioned to the nurse to follow Chonita and myself, andshe trotted after us, her ugly face beaming with pride of position. Was not in her arms the oldest-born of a new generation of Alvarados?the daughter of the governor of The Californias? Her smock, embroidered with silk, was new, and looked whiter than fog againsther bare brown arms and face. Her short red satin skirt, a gift of herhappy lady's, was the finest ever worn by exultant nurse. About herstringy old throat was a gold chain, bright red roses were wovenin her black reboso. I saw her admire Chonita's stately figure withscornful reserve of the colorless gown. 

We were followed in a moment by the governor, adjusting his collarand smoothing his hair. As he reached the door-way at the front of thehouse he was greeted with a shout from assembled Monterey. The plazawas gay with beaming faces and bright attire. The men, women, andchildren of the people were on foot, a mass of color on the oppositeside of the plaza: the women in gaudy cotton frocks girt with silkensashes, tawdry jewels, and spotless camisas, the coquettish rebosodraping with equal grace faces old and brown, faces round and olive;the men in glazed sombreros, short calico jackets and trousers;Indians wound up in gala blankets. In the foreground, on prancingsilver-trapped horses, were caballeros and doñas, laughing andcoquetting, looking down in triumph upon the dueñas and parents whorode older and milder mustangs and shook brown knotted fingers atheedless youth. The young men had ribbons twisted in their long blackhair, and silver eagles on their soft gray sombreros. Their velvetserapes were embroidered with gold; the velvet knee-breeches werelaced with gold or silver cord over fine white linen; long deer-skinbotas were gartered with vivid ribbon; flaunting sashes bound theirslender waists, knotted over the hip. The girls and young marriedwomen wore black or white mantillas, the silken lace of Spain, regardless of the sun which might darken their Castilian fairness. Their gowns were of flowered silk or red or yellow satin, the waistlong and pointed, the skirt full; jeweled buckles of tiny slippersflashed beneath the hem. The old people were in rich dress of sobercolor. A few Americans were there in the ugly garb of their country, ablot on the picture. 

At the door, just in front of the cavalcade, stood General Vallejo'scarriage, the only one in California, sent from Sonoma for theoccasion. Beside it were three superbly-trapped horses. 

The governor placed the swelling nurse in the carriage, then glancedabout him. "Where is Estenega?--and the Castros?" he asked. 

"There are Don José and Doña Modeste Castro, " said Chonita. 

The crowd had parted suddenly, and two men and a woman rode toward thegovernor. One of the men was tall and dark, and his somber militaryattire became the stern sadness of his face. Castro was notComandante-general of the army at that time, but his bearing was asimperious in that year of 1840 as when six years later the AmericanOccupation closed forever the career of a man made in derisionfor greatness. At his right rode his wife, one of the most queenlybeauties of her time, small as she was in stature. Every woman'seye turned to her at once; she was our leader of fashion, and we allcopied the gowns that came to her from the city of Mexico. 

But Chonita gave no heed to the Castros. She fixed her cold directregard on the man who rode with them, and whom, she knew, must beDiego Estenega, for he was their guest. She was curious to see thisenemy of her house, the political rival of her brother, the owner ofthe voice which had given her the first thrill of her life. He wasdressed as plainly as Castro, and had none of the rich southern beautyof the caballeros. His hair was cut short like Alvarado's, and hisface was thin and almost sallow. But the life that was in that face!the passion, the intelligence, the kindness, the humor, the grimdetermination! And what splendid vitality was in his tall thin figure, and nervous activity under the repose of his carriage! I rememberI used to think in those days that Diego Estenega could conquer theworld if he wished, although I suspected that he lacked one quality ofthe great rulers of men, --inexorable cruelty. 

From the moment his horse carried him into the plaza he did not removehis eyes from Chonita's face. She lowered hers angrily after amoment. As he reached the house he sprang to the ground, and Alvaradopresented the sponsors. He lifted his cap and bowed, but not as low asthe caballeros who were wont to prostrate themselves before her. Theymurmured the usual form of salutation:

"At your feet, señorita. "

"I appreciate the honor of your acquaintance. "

"It is my duty and pleasure to lift you to your horse. " And, stillholding his cap in his hand, he led her to one of the three horseswhich stood beside the carriage; with little assistance she sprang toits back, and he mounted the one reserved for him. 

The cavalcade started. First the carriage, then Alvarado and myself, followed by the sponsors, the Castros, the members of the DepartmentalJunta and their wives, then the caballeros and the doñas, the oldpeople and the Americans; the populace trudging gayly in the rear, keeping good pace with the riders, who were held in check by afragment of pulp too young to be jolted. 

"You never have been in Monterey before, señorita, I understand, " saidEstenega to Chonita. No situation could embarrass him. 

"No; once they thought to send me to the convent here, --to DoñaConcepcion Arguéllo, --but it was so far, and my mother does not liketo travel. So Doña Concepcion came to us for a year, and, after, Istudied with an instructor who came from Mexico to educate my brotherand me. " She had no intention of being communicative with DiegoEstenega, but his keen reflective gaze confused her, and she tookrefuge in words. 

"Doña Eustaquia tells me that, unlike most of our women, you haveread many books. Few Californian women care for anything but to lookbeautiful and to marry, --not, however, being unique in that respect. Would you not rather live in our capital? You are so far away downthere, and there are but few of the _gente de razon_, no?"

"We are well satisfied, señor, and we are gay when we wish. There areten families in the town, and many rancheros within a hundred leagues. They think nothing of coming to our balls. And we have grand religiousprocessions, and bull-fights, and races. We have beautiful cañons formeriendas; and I could dance every night if I wished. We are few, butwe are quite as gay and quite as happy as you in your capital. " Thepride of the Iturbi y Moncadas and of the Barbariña flashed in hereyes, then made way for anger under the amused glance of Estenega. 

"Oh, of course, " he said, teasingly. "You are to Monterey whatMonterey is to the city of Mexico. But, pardon me, señorita; I wouldnot anger you for all the gold which is said to lie like rocks underour Californias, --if it be true that certain padres hold that mightysecret. (God! how I should like to get one by the throat and throttleit out of him!) Pardon me again, señorita; I was going to say thatyou may be pleased to know that there is little magnificence where myranchos are, --high on the coast, among the redwoods. I live in a housemade of big ugly logs, unpainted. There are no cavalcades in the colddepths of those redwood forests, and the ocean beats against raggedcliffs. Only at Fort Ross, in her log palace, does the beautifulRussian, Princess Hélène Rotscheff, strive occasionally to makeherself and others forget that the forest is not the Bois of herbeloved Paris, that in it the grizzly and the panther hunger for her, and that an Indian Prince, mad with love for the only fair-hairedwoman he has ever seen, is determined to carry her off----"

"Tell me! tell me!" cried Chonita, eagerly, forgetting her rôle andher enemy. "What is that? I do not know the princess, although she hassent me word many times to visit her--Did an Indian try to carry heroff?"

"It happened only the other day. Prince Solano, perhaps you haveheard, is chief of all the tribes of Sonoma, Valley of the Moon. Heis a handsome animal, with a strong will and remarkable organizingabilities. One day I was entertaining the Rotscheffs at dinner whenSolano suddenly flung the door open and strode into the room: we areold friends, and my servants do not stand on ceremony with him. As hecaught sight of the princess he halted abruptly, stared at her for amoment, much as the first man may have stared at the first woman, thenturned and left the house, sprang on his mustang and galloped away. The princess, you must know, is as blonde as only a Russian can be, and an extremely pretty woman, small and dainty. No wonder the mightyprince of darkness took fire. She was much amused. So was Rotscheff, and he joked her the rest of the evening. Before he left, however, I had a word with him alone, and warned him not to let the princessstray beyond the walls of the fortress. That same night I sent acourier to General Vallejo--who, fortunately, was at Sonoma--biddinghim watch Solano. And, sure enough--the day I left for Montereythe Princess Hélène was in hysterics, Rotscheff was swearing like amadman, and a soldier was at every carronade: word had just come fromGeneral Vallejo that he had that morning intercepted Solano in histriumphant march, at the head of six tribes, upon Fort Ross, and senthim flying back to his mountain-top in disorder and bitterness ofspirit. "

"That is very interesting!" cried Chonita. "I like that. What anexperience those Russians have had! That terrible tragedy!--Ah, Iremember, it was you who were to have aided Natalie Ivanhoff in herescape--"

"Hush!" said Estenega. "Do not speak of that. Here we are. At yourservice, señorita. " He sprang to the whaleboned pavement in front ofthe little church facing the blue bay and surrounded by the gray ruinsof the old Presidio, and lifted her down. 

Chonita recalled, and angry with herself for having been beguiledby her enemy, took the infant from the nurse's arms and carried itfearfully up the aisle. Estenega, walking beside her, regarded hermeditatively. 

"What is she?" he thought, "this Californian woman with her hair ofgold and her unmistakable intellect, her marble face crossed now andagain by the animation of the clever American woman? What ananomaly to find on the shores of the Pacific! All I had heard of TheDoomswoman, The Golden Señorita, gave me no idea of this. What a pitythat our houses are at war! She is not maternal, at all events; Inever saw a baby held so awkwardly. What a poise of head! She looksbetter fitted for tragedy than for this little comedy of life in theCalifornias. A sovereignty would suit her, --were it not for her eyes. They are not quite so calm and just and inexorable as the rest ofher face. She would not even make a good household tyrant, like DoñaJacoba Duncan. Unquestionably she is religious, and swaddled in allthe traditions of her race; but her eyes, --they are at odds with allthe rest of her. They are not lovely eyes; they lack softness andlanguor and tractability; their expression changes too often, and theymirror too much intelligence for loveliness, but they never will beold eyes, and they never will cease to look. And they are the eyesbest worth looking into that I have ever seen. No, a sovereignty wouldnot suit her at all; a salon might. But, like a few of us, she is someyears ahead of her sphere. Glory be to the Californias--of the future, when we are dirt, and our children have found the gold!"

The baby was nearly baptized by the time he had finished hissoliloquy. She had kicked alarmingly when the salt was laid on hertongue, and squalled under the deluge of water which gave her her nameand also wet Chonita's sleeve. The godmother longed for the ceremonyto be over; but it was more protracted than usual, owing to theimportance of the restless object on the pillow in her weary arms. When the last word was said, she handed pillow and baby to the nursewith a fervent sigh of relief which made her appear girlish andnatural. 

After Estenega had lifted her to her horse he dried her sleevewith his handkerchief. He lingered over the task; the cavalcade andpopulace went on without them, and when they started they were in therearward of the blithesome crowd. 

"Do you know what I thought as I stood by you in the church?" heasked. 

"No, " she said, indifferently. "I hope you prayed for the fortune ofthe little one. "

"I did not; nor did you. You were too afraid you would drop it. I wasthinking how unmotherly, I had almost said unwomanly, you looked. Youwere made for the great world, --the restless world, where people flyfaster from monotony than from a tidal wave. "

She looked at him with cold dignity, but flushed a little. "I am notunwomanly, señor, although I confess I do not understand babies and dodetest to sew. But if I ever marry I shall be a good wife and mother. No Spanish woman was ever otherwise, for every Spanish woman has had agood mother for example. "

"You have said exactly what you should have said, voicing the inbornprinciples and sentiments of the Spanish woman. I should be interestedto know what your individual sentiments are. But you misunderstand me. I said that you were too good for the average lot of woman. You are awoman, not a doll; an intelligence, not a bundle of shallow emotionsand transient desires. You should have a larger destiny. "

She gave him a swift sidelong flash from eyes that suddenly lookedchildish and eager. 

"It is true, " she said, frankly, "I have no desire to marry and havemany children. My father has never said to me, 'Thou must marry;' andI have sometimes thought I would say 'No' when that time came. For thepresent I am contented with my books and to ride about the countryon a wild horse; but perhaps--I do not know--I may not always becontented with that. Sometimes when reading Shakespeare I haveimagined myself each of those women in turn. But generally, of course, I have thought little of being any one but myself. What else could Ibe here?"

"Nothing; excepting a Joan of Arc when the Americans sweep down uponus. But that would be only for a day; we should be such easy prey. If I could put you to sleep and awaken you fifty years hence, whenCalifornia was a modern civilization! God speed the Americans: Thereinlies our only chance. "

"What!" she cried. "You--you would have the Americans? You--aCalifornian! But you are an Estenega; that explains everything. "

"I am a Californian, " he said, ignoring the scorn of the last words, "but I hope I have acquired some common-sense in roving about theworld. The women of California are admirable in every way, --chaste, strong of character, industrious, devoted wives and mothers, bornwith sufficient capacity for small pleasures. But what are our men?Idle, thriftless, unambitious, too lazy to walk across the street, butwith a horse for every step, sleeping all day in a hammock, gamblingand drinking all night. They are the natural followers of a race ofmen who came here to force fortune out of an unbroken country withlittle to help them but brains and will. The great effort producedgreat results; therefore there is nothing for their sons to do, andthey luxuriously do nothing. What will the next generation be? Ourwomen will marry Americans, --respect for men who are men will overcomeprejudice, --the crossed blood will fight for a generation or two, thena race will be born worthy of California. Why are our few great men sovery great to us? What have men of exceptional talent to fight down inthe Californias except the barriers to its development? In England orthe United States they still would be great men, --Alvarado and Castro, at least, --but they would have to work harder. "

Chonita, in spite of her disapproval and her blood, looked at himwith interest. His ideas and language were strikingly unlike thesentimental rhetoric of the caballeros. 

"It is as you say, " she admitted; "but the Californian's highest dutyis loyalty to his country. Ours is a double duty, isolated as we areon this far strip of land, away from all other civilization. We shouldbe more contemptible than Indians if we were not true to our flag. "

"No wonder that you and that famous patriot of ours, Doña EustaquiaOrtega, are bonded friends. I doubt if you could hate as well as she. You have no such violence in your nature; you could neither love norhate very hard. You would love (if you loved at all) with majesty andserenity, and hate with chili severity. " While he spoke he watched herintently. 

She met his gaze unflinchingly. "True, señor; I am no 'bundle ofshallow emotions, ' nor have I a lion in me, like Eustaquia. I am acreature of deliberation, not of impulse: I love and hate as dutydictates. "

"You are by nature the most impulsive woman I ever saw, " he said, muchamused, "and Eustaquia's lion is a kitten to the one that sleeps inyou. You have cold deliberation enough, but it is manufactured, andthe result of pretty hard work at that. Like all edifices rearedwithout a foundation, it will fall with a crash some day, andthe fragments will be of very little use to you. " And there theconversation ended: they had reached the plaza, and a babel of voicessurrounded them. Governor Alvarado stood on the upper corridor of hishouse, throwing handfuls of small gold coins among the people, whowere shrieking with delight. The girl guests mingled with them, seeingthat no palm went home empty. Beside the governor sat Doña Martina, radiant with pride, and behind her stood the nurse, holding the infanton its pillow. 

"We had better go to the house as soon as possible, " said Estenega. "It is nearly time for the bull-bear fight, and we must have goodseats. "

They forced their way through the crowd, dismounted at the door, andwent up to the corridor. The Castros and I were already there, with anumber of other invited guests. The women sat in chairs, close to thecorridor railing; several rows of men stood behind them. 

The plaza was a jagged circle surrounded by dwelling-houses, some onestory in height, others with overhanging balconies; from it radiatedfive streets. All corridors were crowded with the elegantly-dressedmen and women of the aristocracy; large black fans were waving; everyeye was flashing expectantly; the people stood on platforms which hadbeen erected in four of the streets. 

Amidst the shouts of the spectators, two vaqueros, dressed in blackvelvet short-clothes, dazzling linen, and stiff black sombreros, tinkling bells attached to their trappings, jingling spurs on theirheels, galloped into the plaza, driving a large aggressive bull. They chased him about in a circle, swinging their reatas, dodginghis onslaughts, then rode out, and four others entered, dragging anunwilling bear by a reata tied to each of its legs. By means of a longchain and much dexterity they fastened the two beasts together, freedthe legs of the bear, then retired to the entrance to await events. But the bull and the bear would not fight. The latter arose on hishaunches and regarded his enemy warily; the bull appeared to disdainthe bear as too small game; he but lowered his horns and pawed theground. The spectators grew impatient. The brave caballeros and daintydoñas wanted blood. They tapped their feet and murmured ominously. Asfor the populace, it howled for slaughter. Governor Alvarado made asign to one of the vaqueros; the man rushed abruptly upon the bull andhit him a sharp blow across the nose with the cruel quirto. Thebull's dignity vanished. With the quadrupedian capacity for measuringdistance, he inferred that the blow had been inflicted by the bear, who sat some twenty feet away, mildly licking his paws. He made asavage onset. The bear, with the dexterity of a vaquero, leapedaside and sprang upon the assailant's neck, his teeth meetingargumentatively in the rope-like tendons. The bull roared with painand rage and attempted to shake him off, but he hung on; both losttheir footing and rolled over and over amidst clouds of dust, a mightynoise, and enough blood to satisfy the early thirst of the beholders. Then the bull wrenched himself free; before the mountain visitor couldscramble to his feet, he fixed him with his horns and tossed him onhigh. As the bear came down on his back with a thud and a snap whichwould have satisfied a bull less anxious to show what a bull could do, the victor rushed upon the corpse, kicked and stamped and bituntil the blood spouted into his eyes, and pulp and dust wereindistinguishable. Then how the delighted spectators clapped theirhands and cried "Brava!" to the bull, who pranced about the plaza, dragging the carcass of the bear after him, his head high, his bigeyes red and rolling! The women tore off their rebosos and waved themlike banners, smashed their fans, and stamped their little feet; themen whirled their sombreros with supple wrists. But the bull was notsatisfied; he pawed the ground with demanding hoofs; and the vaquerosgalloped into the ring with another bear. Nor had they time to detachtheir reatas before the bull was upon the second antagonist; and theywere obliged to retire in haste. 

Estenega, who stood between Chonita and myself, watched The Doomswomanattentively. Her lips were compressed fiercely: for a moment theybore a strange resemblance to his own as I had seen them at times. Her nostrils were expanded, her lids half covered her eyes. "She hascruelty in her, " he murmured to me as the first battle finished; "andit was her imperious wish that the bull should win, because he is themore lordly animal. She has no sympathy for the poor bundle of hairand quivering flesh that bounded on the mountain yesterday. Has shebrutality in her?--just enough--"

"Brava! Brava!" The women were on their feet; even Chonita for themoment forgot herself, and beat the railing with her small fist. Another bear had been impaled and tossed and trampled. The bull, panting from his exertions, dashed about the plaza, still dragging hisfirst victim after him. Suddenly he stopped; the blood gushed from hisnostrils; he shivered like a skeleton hanging in the wind, then fellin an ignominious heap--dead. 

"A warning, Diego, " I said, rising and shaking my fan at him. "Be nottoo ambitious, else wilt thou die of thy victories. And do not lovethe polar star, " I murmured in his ear, "lest thou set fire to it andfall to ashes thyself. "

III. 

In the long dining-room, opening upon the large high-walled garden atthe back of the Governor's house, a feast was spread for fifty people. Doña Martina sat for a little time at the head of the table, heryellow gown almost hidden by the masses of hair which her small headcould not support. Castro was on one side of her, Estenega on theother, Chonita by her arch-enemy. A large bunch of artificial flowerswas at each plate, and the table was loaded with yellowed chickenssitting proudly in scarlet gravy, tongues covered with walnut sauce, grilled meats, tamales, mounds of tortillas, and dulces. 

Alvarado, at the lower end of the table, sat between Doña ModesteCastro and myself; and between the extremes of the board were facesglowing, beautiful, ugly, but without exception fresh and young. Fromall, the mantilla and serape had been removed, jewels sparkled in thelace shirts of the men, white throats were encircled by the invariablenecklace of Baja Californian pearls. Chonita alone wore a string ofblack pearls. I never saw her without it. 

Doña Martina took little part in the talk and laughter, and aftera time slipped away, motioning to Chonita to take her place. Theconversation turned upon war and politics, and in its course Estenega, looking from Chonita to Castro with a smile of good-natured ironysaid, --

"Doña Chonita is of your opinion, coronel, that California was thedirect gift of heaven to the Spaniards, and that the Americans cannothave us. "

Castro raised his glass to the _comadre_. "Doña Chonita has the loyalbosom of all Californian women. Our men love better the olive of peacethan the flavor of discord; but did the bandoleros dare to approachour peaceful shores with dastardly intent to rob, then, thanks beto God, I know that every man among them would fight for this virginland. Thou, too, Diego, thou wouldst unsheathe thy sword, in spite ofthy pretended admiration of the Americans. "

Estenega raised his shoulders. "Possibly. But in American occupationlies the hope of California. What have we done with it in ourseventy years of possession? Built a few missions, which are rotting, terrorized or cajoled few thousand worthless Indians into civilizedimbecility, and raised a respectable number of horses and cattle. Ourhide and tallow trade is only good; the Russians have monopolized thefur trade; we continue to raise cattle and horses because it would bean exertion to suppress them; and meanwhile we dawdle away our livesvery pleasurably, whilst a magnificent territory, filled with gold andricher still in soil, lies idle beneath our feet. Nature never workswithout a plan. She compounded a wonderful country, and she created awonderful people to develop it. She has allowed us to drone on itfor a little time, but it was not made for us; and I am sufficientlyinterested in California to wish to see her rise from her sleep andfeel and live in every part of her. " He turned suddenly to Chonita. "If I were a sculptor, " he said, "I should use you as a model for astatue of California. I have the somewhat whimsical idea that you arethe human embodiment of her. "

Before she could muster her startled and angry faculties for reply, before Estenega had finished speaking, in fact, Castro brought hisopen palm down on the table, his eyes blazing. 

"Oh, execrable profanation!" he cried. "Oh, unheard-of perfidy! Is itpossible that a man calling himself a Californian could give utteranceto such sentiments? Oh, abomination! You would invite, welcome, uphold, the American adventurer? You would tear apart the bosom ofyour country under pretense of doctoring its evils? You would castthis fair gift of Almighty God at the feet of American swine? Oh, Diego! Diego! This comes of the heretic books thou hast read. It isbetter to have heart than brain. "

"True: the palpitations do not last as long. We have had proof which Ineed not recapitulate that to preserve California to itself it must betied fast to Mexico, otherwise would it die of anarchy or fall a preyto the first invader. So far so good. But what has Mexico done forCalifornia? Nothing; and she will do less. She is a mother who hasforgotten the child she put out to nurse. England and France andRussia would do as little. But the United States, young andambitious, will give her greedy attention, and out of their greedwill California's good be wrought. And although they sweep us from theearth, they will plant fruit where they found weeds. "

Don José pushed back his chair violently and left the table. Estenegaturned to Chonita and found her pallid, her nostrils tense, her eyesflashing. 

"Traitor!" she articulated. "I hate you! And it was you--_you_--whokept my loyal brother from serving his country in the DepartmentalJunta. He is as full of fire and patriotism as Castro; and yet you, whose blood is ice, could be a member of the Electoral College anddefeat the election of a man who is as much an honor to his country asyou are a shame. "

He smiled a little cruelly, but without anger or shame in his face. "Señorita, " he said, "I defeated your brother because I did notbelieve him to be of any use to his country. He would only have beenin the way as a member of the Junta, and an older man wanted theplace. Your brother has Don José's enthusiasm without his magnetismand remarkable executive power. He is too young to have hadexperience, and has done neither reading nor thinking. Therefore Idid my best to defeat him. Pardon my rudeness, señorita; ascribe it torevenge for calling me a traitor. "

"You--you----" she stammered, then bent her head over her plate, her Spanish dignity aghast at the threatening tears. Her hand hungclinched at her side. Diego took it in spite of resistance, and, opening the rigid fingers, bent his head beneath the board and kissedthem. 

"I believe you are somewhat of a woman, after all, " he said. 

IV. 

The party deserted the table for the garden, there to idle untilevening should give them the dance. All of the men and most of thewomen smoked cigaritos, the latter using the gold or silver holder, supporting it between the thumb and finger. The high walls of thegarden were covered with the delicate fragrant pink Castilian roses, and the girls plucked them and laid them in their hair. 

"Does it look well, Don Diego?" asked one girl, holding her headcoquettishly on one side. 

"It looked better on its vine, " he said, absently. He was looking forChonita, who had disappeared. "Roses are like women: they lose theirsubtler fragrance when plucked; but, like women, their heads alwaysdroop invitingly. "

"I do not understand thee, Don Diego, " said the girl, fixing her wideinnocent eyes on the young man's inscrutable face. "What dost thoumean?"

"That thou art sweeter than Castilian roses, " he said and passed on. "And how is, thy little one?" he asked a young matron whose lithebeauty had won his admiration a year ago, but to whom maternity hadbeen too generous. She raised her soft brown eyes out of which thecoquettish sparkle had gone. 

"Beautiful! Beautiful!" she cried. "And so smart, Don Diego. He beatsthe air with his little fists, and--Holy Mary, I swear it!--he winksone eye when I tickle him. "

Estenega sauntered down the garden endeavoring to imagine Chonita fatand classified. He could not. He paused beside a woman who did notraise her eyes at once, but coquettishly pretended to be absorbed inthe conversation of those about her. She too had been married a yearand more, but her figure had not lost its elegance, and she was veryhandsome. Her coquetry was partly fear. Estenega's power was feltalike by innocent girls and chaste matrons. There were few scandals inthose days; the women of the aristocracy were virtuous by instinctand rigid social laws; but, how it would be hard to tell, Estenegahad acquired the reputation of being a dangerous man. Perhaps it hadfollowed him back from the city of Mexico, where at one time, he hadspent three years as diputado, and whence returned with a brilliantand startling record of gallantry. A woman had followed on the nextship, and, unless I am much mistaken, Diego passed many uneasyhours before he persuaded her to return to Mexico. Then old Don JoséBriones' beautiful young wife was found dead in her bed one morning, and the old women who dressed the body swore that there were marks ofhard skinny fingers on her throat. Estenega had made no secret of hisadmiration of her. At different times girls of the people had leftMonterey suddenly, and vague rumors had floated down from the Norththat they had been seen in the redwood forests where Estenega'sranchos lay. I asked him, point-blank, one day, if these stories weretrue, prepared to scold him as he deserved; and he remarked coollythat stories of that sort were always exaggerated, as well as a man'ssuccess with women. But one had only to look at that face, with itsexpression of bitter-humorous knowledge, its combination of strengthand weakness, to feel sure that there were chapters in his life thatno woman outside of them would ever read. I always felt, when withDiego Estenega, that I was in the presence of a man who had littleleft to learn of life's phases and sensations. 

"The sun will freckle thy white neck, " he said to the matron who wouldnot raise her eyes. 

"Shall I bring thy mantilla, Doña Carmen?"

She looked up with a swift blush, then lowered her soft black eyessuddenly before the penetrating gaze of the man who was so differentfrom the caballeros. 

"It is not well to be too vain, señor. We must think less of thosethings and more of--our Church. "

"True; the Church may be a surer road to heaven than a goodcomplexion, if less of a talisman on earth. Still I doubt if afreckled Virgin would have commanded the admiration of the centuries, or even of the Holy Ghost. "

"Don Diego! Don Diego!" cried a dozen horrified voices. 

"Diego Estenega, if it were any man but thou, " I exclaimed, "I wouldhave thee excommunicated. Thou blasphemer! How couldst thou?"

Diego raised my threatening hand to his lips. "My dear Eustaquia, itwas merely a way of saying that woman should be without blemish. Andis not the Virgin the model for all women?"

"Oh, " I exclaimed, impatiently, "thou canst plant an idea in people'sminds, then pluck it out before their very eyes and make them believeit never was there. That is thy power, --but not over me. I know thee. "We were standing apart, and I had dropped my voice. "But come and talkto me awhile. I cannot stand those babies, " and I indicated with asweep of my fan the graceful, richly-dressed caballeros whose softdrooping eyes and sensuous mouths were more promising of complimentsthan conversation. "Neither Alvarado nor Castro is here. Thou toowouldst have gone in a moment had I not captured thee. "

"On the contrary, I should have captured you. If we were not too oldfriends for flirting I should say that your handsome-ugly face is themost attractive in the garden. It is a pretty picture, though, "he went on, meditatively, --"those women in their gay soft gowns, coquetting demurely with the caballeros. Their eyes and mouths arelike flowers; and their skins are so white, and their hair so black. The high wall, covered with green and Castilian roses, was purposelydesigned by Nature for them. Sometimes I have a passing regret thatit is all doomed, and a half-century hence will have passed out ofmemory. "

"What do you mean?" I asked, sharply. 

"Oh, we will not discuss the question of the future. I sent Castroaway from the table in a towering rage, and it is too hot to exciteyou. Even the impassive Doomswoman became so angry that she could noteat her dinner. "

"It is your old wish for American occupation--the bandoleros! No; Iwill not discuss it with you: I have gone to bed with my head burstingwhen we have talked of it before. You might have spared poor José. Butlet us talk of something else--Chonita. What do you think of her?"

"A thousand things more than one usually thinks of a woman after thefirst interview. "

"But do you think her beautiful?"

"She is better than beautiful. She is original. "

"I often wonder if she would be La Favorita of the South if it werenot for her father's great wealth and position. The men who profess tobe her slaves must have absorbed the knowledge that she has thebrains they have not, although she conceals her superiority from themadmirably: her pride and love of power demand that she shall be LaFavorita, although her caballeros must weary her. If she made themfeel their insignificance for a moment they would fly to the standardof her rival, Valencia Menendez, and her regalities would be goneforever. A few men have gone honestly wild over her, but I doubt ifany one has ever really loved her. Such women receive a surfeit ofadmiration, but little love. If she were an unintellectual woman shewould have an extraordinary power over men, with her beauty and hersubtle charm; but now she is isolated. What a pity that your housesare at war!"

He had been looking away from me. As I finished speaking he turnedhis face slowly toward me, first the profile, which looked as if cutrapidly with a sharp knife out of ivory, then the full face, with itseyes set so deeply under the scraggy brows, its mouth grimly humorous. He looked somewhat sardonic and decidedly selfish. Well I knew whatthat expression meant. He had the kindest heart I had ever known, butit never interfered with a most self-indulgent nature. Many times Ihad begged him to be considerate of some girl who I knew charmed himfor the moment only; but one secret of his success with women was hisunfeigned if brief enthusiasm. 

"Let her alone!" I exclaimed. "You cannot marry her. She would go intoa convent before she would sacrifice the traditions of her house. Andif you were not at war, and she married you, you would only make hermiserably happy. "

He merely smiled and continued to look me straight in the eyes. 

V. 

I went upstairs and found Chonita reading Landor's "ImaginaryConversations. " (When Chonita was eighteen, --she was nowtwenty-four--Don Alfredo Robinson, one of the American residents, had at her father's request sent to Boston for a library of severalhundred books, a birthday gift for the ambitious daughter of theIturbi y Moncadas. The selection was an admirable one, and a ranchowould not have pleased her as well. She read English and French withease, although she spoke both languages brokenly. ) As I entered shelaid down the book and clasped her hands behind her head. She lookedtranquil, but less amiable than was her wont. 

"Thou hast been far away from the caballeros and the doñas ofMonterey, " I said. 

"Not even among Spanish ghosts. "

"I think thou carest at heart for nothing but thy books. "

"And a few people, and my religion. "

"But they come second, although thou wilt not acknowledge it even tothyself. Suppose thou hadst to sacrifice thy religion or thy books, never to read another? Which wouldst thou choose?"

"God of my soul! what a question! No Spanish woman was ever a truerCatholic; but to read is my happiness, the only happiness I want onearth. "

"Art thou sure that to train the intellect means happiness?"

"Sure. Does it not give us the power to abstract ourselves from lifewhen we are tired of it?"

"True, but there is another result you have not thought of. The morethe intellect is developed, the more acute and aggressive is thenervous system; the more tenacious is the memory, the more has one tolive with, and the higher the ideals. When the time comes for you tolive you will suffer with double the intensity and depth of the womanwhose nerves are dull or stunted. "

"To suffer you must love, and I never shall love. Who is there tolove? Books always suffice me, and I suppose there are enough in theworld to make the time pass as long as I live. "

I did not continue the argument, knowing the placid superiority ofinexperience. 

"But thou hast not yet told me which thou wouldst give up. "

"The books, of course. I hope I know my duty. I would sacrifice allthings to my religion. But the priests do not interfere now as theydid in the last generation. "

I was very religious in those days, and my heart beat with approval. "I have always said that the Church may let women read what theychoose. The good principles they are born with they will adhere to. "

"We are by nature conservatives, that is all. And we have need ofreligion. We must have something to lean on, and men are poor props, as far as I have observed. Sometimes after having read a long while inan absorbing book, particularly one that seemed to put something witha living hand into my brain and make it feel larger, I find that I ammiles away from the Church; I have forgotten its existence. I always_run_ back. "

"_Dios!_ I should think so. Yes, it is well we do need our religion. Men do not; for that reason they drop it the moment the wings on theirminds grow fast--as they would, when the warm sun came out, drop thethick blanket of the Indian, borrowed and gratefully worn in darkuncertain weather. I do not dare ask Diego Estenega what he believes, lest he tell me he believes nothing and I should have to hear it. Howdost thou like my friend, Chonita?"

"Art thou asking me how I like the enemy of my house? I hate him. "

"If he goes to Santa Barbara with Alvarado this summer wilt thou askhim to be thy guest?"

"Of course. The enmity has always been veiled with much courtesy; andI would have him see that we know how to entertain. "

I watched her covertly; I could detect no sign of interest. Presentlyshe took up the volume of Landor and read aloud to me, the statelyEnglish sounding oddly with her Spanish accent. 

VI. 

At ten o'clock the large sala of the Governor's house was throngedwith guests, and the music of the flute, harp, and guitar floatedthrough the open windows: the musicians sat on the corridor. Howharmonious was the Monterey ball-room of that day!--the women in theirwhite gowns of every rich material, the men in white trousers, blacksilk jackets, and low morocco shoes; no color except in the jewelsand the rich Southern faces. The bare ugly sala, from which the uglierfurniture had been removed, needed no ornaments with that movingbeauty; and even the coffee-colored, high-stomached old people werepicturesque. I wander through those deserted salas sometimes, and, as the tears blister my eyes, imagination and memory people the coldrooms, and I forget that the dashing caballeros and lovely doñas whoonce called Monterey their own and made it a living picture-book aredust beneath the wild oats and thistles of the deserted cemetery onthe hill. The Americans hardly know that such a people once existed. 

Chonita entered the sala at eleven o'clock, looking like a snow queen. Her gold hair, which always glittered like metal, was arranged tosimulate a crown; she wore a gown of Spanish lace, and no jewels butthe string of black pearls. I never had seen her look so cold and soregal. 

Estenega stepped out upon the corridor. "Play El Son, " he said, peremptorily. Then as the vivacious music began he walked over toChonita and clapped his hands in front of her as authoritatively ashe had bidden the musicians. What he did was of frequent occurrencein the Californian ball-room, but she looked haughtily rebellious. Hecontinued to strike his hands together, and looked down upon herwith an amused smile which brought the angry color to her face. Herhesitation aroused the eagerness of the other men, and they criedloudly--

"El Son! El Son! señorita. "

She could no longer refuse, and, passing Estenega with head erect, she bent it slightly to the caballeros and passed to the middle of theroom, the other guests retreating to the wall. She stood for a moment, swaying her body slightly; then, raising her gown high enough forthe lace to sweep the instep of her small arched feet, she tappedthe floor in exact time to the music for a few moments, then glideddreamily along the sala, her willowy body falling in lovely lines, unfolding every detail of El Son, unheeding the low ripple ofapproval. Then, dropping her gown, she spun the length of the roomlike a white cloud caught in a cyclone; her garments whirred, her heels clicked, her motion grew faster and swifter, until thespectators panted for breath. Then, unmindful of the lively melody, she drifted slowly down, swaying languidly, her long round arms nowlolling in the lace of her gown, now lifted to graceful sweep andcurve. The caballeros shouted their appreciation, flinging gold andsilver at her feet; never had El Son been given with such variationsbefore. Never did I see greater enthusiasm until the night whichculminated the tragedy of Ysabel Herrera. Estenega stood enraptured, watching every motion of her body, every expression of her face. The blood blazed in her cheeks, her eyes were like green stars andsparkled wickedly. The cold curves of her statuesque mouth were warmand soft, her chin was saucily uplifted, her heavy waving hair fellover her shoulders to her knees, a glittering veil. Where had TheDoomswoman, the proud daughter of the Iturbi y Moncadas, gone?

The girls were a little frightened: this was not the Son to which theywere accustomed. The young matrons frowned. The old people exclaimed, "Caramba!" "Mother of God!" "Holy Mary!" I was aghast; well as I knewher, this was a piece of audacity for which I was unprepared. 

As the dance went on and she grew more and more like an untamedwood-nymph, even the caballeros became vaguely uneasy, hotly as theyadmired the beautiful wild thing enchaining their gaze. I looked againat Estenega and knew that his heart beat in passionate sympathy. 

"I have found _her_, " he murmured, exultantly. "She is California, magnificent, audacious, incomprehensible, a creature of storms andconvulsions and impregnable calm; the germs of all good and all bad inher; a woman sublimated. Every husk of tradition has fallen from her. "

Once, as she passed Estenega, her eyes met his. They lit with a glanceof recognition, then the lids drooped and she floated on. He left theroom; and when he returned she sat on a window-seat, surrounded bycaballeros, as calm and as pale as when he had commanded her to dance. He did not approach her, but, joined me at the upper end of the sala, where I stood with Alvarado, the Castros, Don Thomas Larkin, theUnited States Consul, and a half-dozen others. We were discussingChonita's interpretation of El Son. 

"That was a strange outbreak for a Spanish girl, " said Señor Larkin. 

"She is Chonita Iturbi y Moncada, " said Castro, severely. "She is likeno other woman, and what she does is right. "

The consul bowed. "True, coronel. I have seen no one here like DoñaChonita. There is a delicious uniformity about the Californian women:so reserved, shrinking yet dignified, ever on their guard. DoñaChonita changed so swiftly from the typical woman of her race to anhouri, almost a bacchante, --only an extraordinary refinement of naturekept her this side of the line, --that an American would be tempted tocall her eccentric. "

Alvarado lifted his hand and pointed through the window to the stars. "The golden coals in the blue fire of heaven are not higher abovecensure, " he said. 

Doña Modeste raised her eyebrows. "Coals are safest when burned onthe domestic hearth and carefully watched; safer still when they havefallen to ashes. "

"What is this rumor of pirates on the coast?" demanded Alvarado, abruptly. 

I put my hand through Estenega's arm and drew him aside. The music ofthe contradanza was playing, and we stood against the wall. 

"Well, you know Chonita better since that dance, " I said to him. "Polar stars are not unlikely to have volcanoes. Better let the deepsalone, my friend; the lava might scorch you badly. Women of complexnatures are interesting studies, but dangerous to love. They wear thenerves to a point, and the tired brain and heart turn gratefully tothe crystalline, idle-minded woman. She is too much like yourself, Diego. And you, --how long could you love anybody? Love with you meanscuriosity. "

His face looked like chalk for a moment, an indication with him ofsuppressed and violent emotion. Then he turned his head and regardedme with a slight smile. "Not altogether. You forget that the mostfaithless men have been the most faithful when they have found theone woman. Curiosity and fickleness are merely parts of a restlessseeking, --nothing more. "

"I was sure you would acquit yourself with credit! But you have anunholy charm, and you never hesitate to exert it. "

He laughed outright. "One would think I was a rattlesnake. My unholycharm consists of a reasonable amount of address born of a greatweakness for women and some personal magnetism, --the latter theoffspring of the habit of mental concentration--"

"And an inexorable will--"

"Perhaps. As to the exercise of it--why not? _Vive la bagatelle!_"

"It is useless to argue with you. Are you going to let that girlalone?"

"She is the only girl in the Californias whom I shall not let alone. "

I could have shaken him. "To what end? And her brother? I haveoften wondered which would rule you in a crisis, your head or yourpassions. "

"It would depend upon the crisis. I am afraid you are right, --thataltiloquent Reinaldo will give trouble. "

"Is it true that he has been conspiring with Carillo, and that anextraordinary and secret session of the Departmental Junta has beencalled?"

He looked down upon me with his grimmest smile. "You curious littlewoman! You must not put your white fingers into the Departmental pie. If you had been a man, with as good a brain as you have for a woman, you would have been an ornament to our politics. But as it is--pardonme--the better for our balancing country the less you have to do withit. "

I could feel my eyes snap. "You respect no woman's mind, " I said, savagely; "nothing but the woman in her. But I will not quarrel withyou. Tell that baby over there to come and waltz with me. "

At dawn, as we entered our room, I seized Chonita by the shoulders andshook her. "What did you mean by such a performance?" I demanded. "Itwas unprecedented!"

She threw back her head and laughed. "I could not help it, " she said. "First I felt an irresistible desire to show Monterey that I dareddo anything I chose. And then I have a wild something in me which hasoften threatened to break loose before; and to-night it did. It wasthat man. He made me. "

"_Ay, Dios!"_ I thought, "it has begun already. "

VII. 

The festivities were to last a week, every one taking part butAlvarado and Doña Martina. The latter was not strong enough, thegovernor cared more for duty than for pleasure. 

The next day we had a merienda on the hills behind the town. The greenpine woods were gay with the bright colors of the young people. Hereand there a caballero dashed up and down to show his horsemanship andthe silver and embroidered silk of his saddle. Silver, too, werehis jingling spurs, the eagles on his sombrero, the buttons on hiscolorous silken jacket. Horses, without exception handsomely trapped, were tethered everywhere, pawing the ground or nibbling the grass. Thegirls wore white or flowered silk or muslin gowns, and rebosos abouttheir heads; the brown ugly dueñas, ever at their sides, were foilsthey would gladly have dispensed with. The tinkle of the guitar neverceased, and the sweet voices of the girls and the rich voices of themen broke forth with the joyous spontaneity of the birds' songs aboutthem. 

Chonita wore a white silk gown, I remember flowered with blue, --largeblue lilies. The reboso matched the gown. As soon as we arrived--wewere a little late--she was surrounded by caballeros who hardly knewwhether to like her or not, but who adhered to the knowledge that shewas Chonita Iturbi y Moncada, the most famous beauty of the South. 

"_Dios!_ but thou art beautiful, " murmured one, his dreamy eyesdwelling on her shining hair. 

"_Gracias_, señor. " She whispered it as bashfully as the maidens towhom he was accustomed, her eyes fixed upon a rose she held. 

"Wilt thou not stay with us here in Monterey?"

She raised her eyes slowly, --he could not but feel the effort, --gavehim one bewildering glance, half appealing, half protesting, thendropped them suddenly. 

"Wilt thou stay with me?" panted the caballero. 

"Ay, señor! thou must not speak like that. Some one will hear thee. "

"I care not! God of my life! I care not! Wilt thou marry me?"

"Thou must not speak to me of marriage, señor. It is to my father thoumust speak. Would I, a Californian maiden, betroth myself without hisknowledge?"

"Holy heaven! I will! But give me one word that thou lovest me, --oneword!"

She lifted her chin saucily and turned to another caballero, who, Idoubt not, proposed also. Estenega, who had watched her, laughed. 

"She acts the part to perfection, " he said to me. "Either natural oracquired coquetry has more to do with saving her from the solitaryplane of the intellectual woman than her beauty or her father'swealth. I am inclined to think that it is acquired. I do not believethat she is a coquette at heart, any more than that she is the marbledoomswoman she fondly believes herself. "

"You will tell her that, " I exclaimed, angrily; "and she will endby loving you because you understand her; all women want to beunderstood. Why don't you go to Paris again? You have not been therefor a long time. "

Not deeming this suggestion worthy of answer, he left me and walked toChonita, who was glancing over the top of her fan into the ardent eyesof a third caballero. 

"You will step on a bunch of nettles in a moment, " he said, practically. "Your slippers are very thin; you had better stand overhere on the path. " And he dexterously separated her from the othermen. "Will you walk to that opening over there with me? I want to showyou a better view of Monterey. "

His manner had not a touch of gallantry, and she was tired of thecaballeros. 

"Very well, " she said. "I will look at the view. "

As she followed him she noted that he led her where the bushes werethinnest, and kicked the stones from her path. She also remarked thenervous energy of his thin figure. "It comes from his love of theAmericans, " she thought, angrily. "He must even walk like them. TheAmericans!" And she brought her teeth together with a sharp click. 

He turned, smiling. "You look very disapproving, " he said. "What haveI done?"

"You look like an American! You even wear their clothes, and they arethe color of smoke; and you wear no lace. How cold and uninteresting ascene would this be if all the men were dressed as you are!"

"We cannot all be made for decorative purposes. And you are as unlikethose girls, in all but your dress, as I am unlike the men. I will notincur your wrath by saying that you are American: but you are modern. Our lovely compatriots were the same three hundred years ago. WillDoña California be pleased to observe that whale spouting in the bay?There is the tree beneath which Junipero Serra said his first mass inthis part of the country. What a sanctimonious old fraud he must havebeen, if he looked anything like his pictures! Did you ever see baybluer than that? or sand whiter? or a more perfect semicircle of hillsthan this? or a more straggling town? There is the Custom-house on therocks. You will go to a ball there to-night, and hear the boom ofthe surf as you dance. " He turned with one of his sudden impatientmotions. "Suppose we ride. The air is too sharp to lie about under thetrees. This white horse mates your gown. Let us go over to Carmelo. "

"I should like to go, " she said, doubtfully; he had made her throbwith indignation once or twice, but his conversation interested herand her free spirit approved of a ride over the hills unattended bydueña. "But--you know--I do not like you. "

"Oh, never mind that; the ride will interest you just the same. " Andhe lifted her to the horse, sprang on another, caught her bridle, lest she should rebel, and galloped up the road. When they were on theother side of hill he slackened speed and looked at her with a smile. She was inclined to be angry, but found herself watching the varyingexpressions of his mouth, which diverted her mind. It was a bafflingmouth, even to experienced women, and Chonita could make nothing ofit. It had neither sweetness nor softness, but she had never feltimpelled to study the mouth of a caballero. And then she wondered howa man with a mouth like that could have manners so gentle. 

"Are you aware, " he said, abruptly, "that your brother is accused ofconspiracy?"

"What?" She looked at him as if she inferred that this was the orderof badinage that an Iturbi y Moncada might expect from an Estenega. 

"I am not joking. It is quite true. "

"It is not true! Reinaldo conspire against his government? Some onehas lied. And you are ready to believe!"

"I hope some one has lied. The news is very direct, however. " Helooked at her speculatively. "The more obstacles the better, " hethought; "and we may as well declare war on this question at once. Besides, it is no use to begin as a hypocrite, when every act wouldtell her what I thought of him. Moreover, he will have more or lessinfluence over her until her eyes are opened to his true worth. Shewill not believe me, of course, but she is a woman who only needs animpetus to do a good deal of thinking and noting. " "I am going to makeyou angry, " he said. "I am going to tell you that I do not share youradmiration of your brother. He has ten thousand words for every idea, and although, God knows, we have more time than anything else in thisland of the poppy where only the horses run, still there are moreprofitable ways of employing it than to listen to meaningless andbombastic words. Moreover, your brother is a dangerous man. No man isso safe in seclusion as the one of large vanities and small ambitions. He is not big enough to conceive a revolution, but is ready to be thetool of any unscrupulous man who is, and, having too much egotism tofollow orders, will ruin a project at the last moment by attempting tothink for himself. I do not say these things to wantonly insult you, señorita, only to let you know at once how I regard your brother, thatyou may not accuse me of treachery or hypocrisy later. "

He had expected and hoped that she would turn upon him with a burst offury; but she had drawn herself up to her most stately height, andwas looking at him with cold hauteur. Her mouth was as hard as a pinkjewel, and her eyes had the glitter of ice in them. 

"Señor, " she said, "it seems to me that you, too, waste many words--inspeaking of my brother; for what you say of him cannot interest me. I have known him for twenty-two years; you have seen him four or sixtimes. What can you tell me of him? Not only is he my brother and thenatural object of my love and devotion, but he is Reinaldo Iturbi yMoncada, the last male descendant of his house, and as such I hold himin a regard only second to that which I bear to my father. And withthe blood in him he could not be otherwise than a great and good man. "

Estenega looked at her with the first stab of doubt he had felt. "Sheis Spanish in her marrow, " he thought, --"the steadfast unreasoningchild of traditions. I could not well be at greater disadvantage. Butshe is magnificent. "

"Another thing which was unnecessary, " she added, "was to defendyourself to me or to tell me how you felt toward my brother, and why. We are enemies by tradition and instinct. We shall rarely meet, andshall probably never talk together again. "

"We shall talk together more times than you will care to count. Ihave much to say to you, and you shall listen. But we will discuss thematter no further at present. Shall we gallop?"

He spurred his horse, and once more they fled through the pine woods. Before long they entered the valley of Carmelo. The mountains weremassive and gloomy, the little bay was blue and quiet, the surf ofthe ocean roared about Point Lobos, Carmelo River crawled beneathits willows. In the middle of the valley stood the impressive yellowchurch, with its Roman tower and rose-window; about it were thecrumbling brown hovels of the deserted Mission. Once as they rodeEstenega thought he heard voices, but could not be sure, so loud wasthe clatter of the horses' hoofs. As they reached the square they drewrein swiftly, the horses standing upright at the sudden halt. Thenstrange sounds came to them through the open doors of the church:ribald shouts and loud laughter, curses and noise of smashing glass, such songs as never were sung in Carmelo before; an infernal clash ofsound which mingled incongruously with the solemn mass of the surf. Chonita's eyes flashed. Even Estenega's face darkened: the traditionsplanted in plastic youth arose and rebelled at the desecration. 

"Some drunken sailors, " he said. "There--do you see that?" A craftrounded Point Lobos. "Pirates!"

"Holy Mary!" exclaimed Chonita. 

"Let down your hair, " he said, peremptorily; "and follow all that Isuggest. We will drive them out. "

She obeyed him without question, excited and interested. Then theyrode to the doors and threw them wide. 

The upper end of the long church was swarming with pirates; there wasno mistaking those bold, cruel faces, blackened by sun and wind, halfcovered with ragged hair. They stood on the benches, they bestrodethe railing, they swarmed over the altar, shouting and carousing inriotous wassail. Their coarse red shirts were flung back from hairychests, their faces were distorted with rum and sacrilegious delight. Every station, every candlestick, had been hurled to the floor andtrampled upon. The crucifix stood on its head. Sitting high on thealtar, reeling and waving a communion goblet, was the drunken chief, singing a blasphemous song of the pirate seas. The voices rumbledstrangely down the hollow body of the church; to perfect the sceneflames should have leaped among the swinging arms and bounding forms. 

"Come, " said Estenega. He spurred his horse, and together theygalloped down the stone pavement of the edifice. The men turned atthe loud sound of horses' hoofs; but the riders were in theirmidst, scattering them right and left, before they realized what washappening. 

The horses were brought to sudden halt. Estenega rose in his stirrups, his fine bold face looking down impassively upon the demoniacal gangwho could have rent him apart, but who stood silent and startled, gazing from him to the beautiful woman, whose white gown looked partof the white horse she rode. Estenega raised his hand and pointed toChonita. 

"The Virgin, " he said, in a hollow, impressive voice. "The Mother ofGod. She has come to defend her church. Go. "

Chonita's face blanched to the lips, but she looked at thesacrilegists sternly. Fortune favored the audacity of Estenega. Thesunlight, drifting through the star-window above the doors at thelower end of the church, smote the uplifted golden head of Chonita, wreathing it with a halo, gifting the face with unearthly beauty. 

"Go!" repeated Estenega, "lest she weep. With every tear a heart willcease to beat. "

The chief scrambled down from the altar and ran like a rat pastChonita, his swollen mouth dropping. The others crouched and followed, stumbling one over the other, their dark evil faces bloodless, theirknees knocking together with superstitious terror. They fled fromthe church and down to the bay, and swam to their craft. Estenega andChonita rode out. They watched the ugly vessel scurry around PointLobos; then Chonita spoke for the first time. 

"Blasphemer!" she exclaimed. "Mother of God, wilt thou ever forgiveme?"

"Why not call me a Jesuit? It was a case where mind or matter musttriumph. And you can confess your enforced sin, say a hundred aves orso, and be whiter than snow again; whereas, had our Mission of Carmelobeen razed to the ground, as it was in a fair way to be, Californiawould have lost an historical monument. "

"And Junipero Serra's bones are there, and it was his favoriteMission, " said the girl, unwillingly. 

"Exactly. And now that you are reasonably sure of being forgiven, willnot you forgive me? I shall ask no priest's forgiveness. "

She looked at him a moment, then shook her head. "No: I cannot forgiveyou for having made me commit what may be a mortal sin. But, HolyHeaven!--I cannot help saying it--you are very quick!"

"For each idea is a moment born. Upon whether we wed the two or thinktoo late depends the success or the failure of our lives. "

"Suppose, " she said, suddenly, --"suppose you had failed, and those menhad seized me and made me captive: what then?"

"I should have killed you. Not one of them should have touched you. But I had no doubts, or I should not have made the attempt. I know thesuperstitious nature of sailors, especially when they are drunk. Shallwe gallop back? They will have eaten all the dulces. "

VIII. 

Monterey danced every night and all night of that week, either atAlvarado's or at the Custom-house, and every afternoon met at theraces, the bull-fight, a merienda, or to climb the greased pole, catch the greased pig by its tail as it ran, or exhibit skill inhorsemanship. Chonita, at times an imperious coquette, at others, indifferent, perverse, or coy, was La Favorita without appeal, andthe girls alternately worshipped her--she was abstractedly kind tothem--or heartily wished her back in Santa Barbara. Estenega rarelyattended the socialities, being closeted with Alvarado and Castro mostof the time, and when he did she avoided him if she could. The pirateshad fled and were seen no more; but their abrupt retreat, as describedby Chonita, continued to be an exciting topic of discussion. Therewere few of us who did not openly or secretly approve of Estenega'sJesuitism and admire the nimbleness of his mind. The clergy did notexpress itself. 

On the last night of the festivities, when the women, weary with theunusually late hours of the past week, had left the ball-room earlyand sought their beds, and the men, being at loss for other amusement, had gone in a body to a saloon, there to drink and gamble and set fireto each other's curls and trouser-seats, the Departmental Junta met insecret session. The night was warm, the plaza deserted; all who werenot in the saloon at the other end of the town were asleep; and afterthe preliminary words in Alvarado's office the Junta picked up theirchairs and went forth to hold conclave where bulls and bears hadfought and the large indulgent moon gave clearer light than adamantinecandles. They drew close together, and, after rolling the cigarito, solemnly regarded the sky for a few moments without speaking. Theirpurpose was a grave one. They met to try Pio Pico for contempt ofgovernment and annoying insistence in behalf of his pet project toremove the capital from Monterey to Los Angeles; José Antonio Carilloand Reinaldo Iturbi y Moncada for conspiracy; and General Vallejo forevil disposition and unwarrantable comments upon the policy of theadministration. None of the offenders was present. 

With the exception of Alvarado, Castro, and Estenega, the membersof the Junta were men of middle age, and represented the talent ofCalifornia, --Jimeno, Gonzales, Arguëllo, Requena, Del Valle. Theirdark, bearded faces, upturned to the stars, made a striking set ofprofiles, but the effect was marred by the silk handkerchiefs they hadtied about their heads. 

Alvarado spoke, finally, and, after presenting the charges in dueform, continued:

"The individual enemy to the government is like the fly to the lion;it cannot harm, but it can annoy. We must brush away the fly as avindication of our dignity, and take precaution that he does notreturn, even if we have to bend our heads to tie his little legs. Ido not purpose to be annoyed by these blistering midgets we are metto consider, nor to have my term of administration spotted with theirgall. I leave it to you, my compatriots and friends, to advise me whatis best to do. "

Jimeno put his feet on the side rung of Castro's chair, puffed a largegray cloud, and half closed his eyes. He then, for three-quarters ofan hour, in a low, musical voice, discoursed upon the dignity of theadministration and the depravity of the offenders. When his brethrenwere beginning to drop their heads and breathe heavily, Alvaradopolitely interrupted him and referred the matter to Castro. 

"Imprison them!" exclaimed the impetuous General, suddenly alert. "With such a Governor and such a people, this should be a land whiteas the mountain-tops, unblemished by the tracks of mean ambitionsand sinful revolutions. Let us be summary, although not cruel; let noman's blood flow while there are prisons in the Californias; but wemust pluck up the roots of conspiracy and disquiet, lest a thousandsuckers grow about them, as about the half-cut trunks of ourredwood-trees, and our Californias be no better than any degeneratecountry of the Old World. Let us cast them into prison without furtherdebate. "

"The law, my dear José, gives them a trial, " drawled Gonzales. Andthen for a half-hour he quoted such law as was known in the country. When he finished, the impatient and suppressed members of the Juntadelivered their opinions simultaneously; only Estenega had nothingto say. They argued and suggested, cited evidence, defended anddenounced, lashing themselves into a mighty excitement. At length theywere all on their feet, gesticulating and prancing. 

"Mother of God!" cried Requena. "Let us give Vallejo a taste of hisown cruelty. Let us put him in a temascal and set those of his Indianvictims who are still alive to roast him out--"

"No! no! Vallejo is maligned. He had no hand in that massacre. Hisheart is whiter than an angel's----"

"It is his liver that is white. His heart is black as a black snake's. To the devil with him!"

"Make a law that Pio Pico can never put foot out of Los Angeles again, since he loves it so well--"

"His ugly face would spoil the next generation--"

"Death to Carillo and Iturbi y Moncada! Death to all! Let the poisonout of the veins of California!"

"No! no! As little blood in California as possible. Put them inprison, and keep them on frijoles and water for a year. That will curerebellion: no chickens, no dulces, no aguardiente--"

Alvarado brought his staff of office down sharply upon a board he hadprovided for the purpose. 

"Gentlemen, " he said, "will you not sit down and smoke anothercigarito? We must be calm. "

The Junta took to its chairs at once. Alvarado never failed to commandrespect. 

"Don Diego Estenega, " said the Governor, "will you tell us what youhave thought whilst the others have talked?"

Estenega, who had been star-gazing, turned to Alvarado, ignoring theJunta. His keen brilliant eyes gave the Governor a thrill of relief;his mouth expressed a mind made up and intolerant of argument. 

"Vallejo, " he said, "is like a horse that will neither run nor backinto his stall: he merely stands still and kicks. His kicking makesa noise and raises a dust, but does no harm. In other words, he willirritate, but never take a responsibility. Send him an official noticethat if he does not keep quiet an armed force will march upon Sonomaand imprison him in his own house, humiliating him before the eyes ofhis soldiers and retainers. 

"As for Pio Pico, threaten to fine and punish him. He will apologizeat once and be quiet for six months, when you can call another secretsession and issue another threat. It would prolong the term of hissubmission to order him to appear before the Junta and make it anapology with due humility. 

"Now for Carillo and Reinaldo Iturbi y Moncada. " He paused a momentand glanced at Chonita's grating. He had the proofs of her brother'srascality in his pocket; no one but himself had seen them. Hehesitated the fraction of another moment, then smiled grimly. "Oh, Helen!" he thought, "the same old story. "

"That Carillo is guilty, " he said aloud, "is proven to us beyonddoubt. He has incited rebellion against the government in behalf ofCarlos Carillo. He is dangerous to the peace of the country. Iturbiy Moncada is young and heedless, hardly to be considered seriously;furthermore, it is impossible to obtain proof of his complicity. Hisintimacy with Carillo gives him the appearance of guilt. It would bewell to frighten him a little by a short term of imprisonment. He isrestless and easily led; a lesson in time may save his honored housefrom disaster. But to Carillo no quarter. " He rose and stood overthem. "The best thing in Machiavelli's 'Prince, '" he said, "is theauthor's advice to Caesar Borgia to exterminate every member ofthe reigning house of a conquered country, in order to avoid futurerevolutions and their infinitely greater number of dead. Do not letthe water in your blood whimper for mercy. You are not here to protectan individual, but a country. "

"You are right, " said Alvarado. 

The others looked at the young man who had merely given them thepractical advice of statecraft as if he had opened his chest anddisplayed the lamp of wisdom burning. His freedom from excitement inall ordeals which animated them to madness had long ago inspiredthe suspicion that he was rather more than human. They uttered not aprotest. Alvarado's one-eyed secretary made notes of their approval;and the Junta, after another friendly smoke, adjourned, well pleasedwith itself. 

"Would I sacrifice my country for her a year hence?" thought Estenega, as he sauntered home. "But, after all, little harm is done. He is notworth killing, and fright and discomfort will probably cure him. "

IX. 

Chonita and Estenega faced each other among the Castilian roses of thegarden behind the Governor's house. The dueña was nodding in a corner;the first-born of the Alvarados, screaming within, absorbed theattention of every member of the household, from the frantic youngmother to the practical nurse. 

"My brother is to be arrested, you say?"

"Yes. "

"And at your suggestion?"

"Yes. "

"And he may die?"

"Possibly. "

"Nothing would have been done if it had not been for you?"

"Nothing. "

"God of my life! Mother of God! how I hate you!"

"It is war, then?"

"I would kill you if I were not a Catholic. "

"I will make you forget that you are a Catholic. "

"You have made me remember it to my bitterest sorrow. I hate you somortally that I cannot go to confession: I cannot forgive. "

"I hope you will continue to hate for a time. Now listen to me. Youhave several reasons for hating me. My house is the enemy of yours. I am to all intents and purposes an American; you can consider meas such. I have that indifference for religious superstition andintolerance for religion's thraldom which all minds larger ofcircumference than a napkin-ring must come to in time. I haveendangered the life of your brother, and I have opposed and shalloppose him in his political aspirations; he has my unequivocalcontempt. Nevertheless, I tell you here that I should marry you werethere five hundred reasons for your hatred of me instead of a paltryfive. I shall take pleasure in demonstrating to you that there is aforce in the universe a good deal stronger than traditions, religion, or even family ties. "

His eyes were not those of a lover; they shone like steel. His mouthwas forbidding. She drew back from him in terror, then struck herhands together passionately. 

"I marry you!" she cried. "An Estenega! A renegade? May God cast meout of heaven if I do! There, I have sworn! I have sworn! Do you thinka Catholic would break that vow? I swear it by the Church, --and I putthe whole Church between us!"

"I told you just now that I would make you forget your Church. " Hecaught her hand and held it firmly. "A last word, " he said "Yourbrother's life is safe: I promise you that. "

"Let me go!" she said. "Let me go! I fear you. " She was trembling; hiswarmth and magnetism had sprung to her shoulder. 

He gave her back her hand. "Go, " he said: "so ends the first chapter. "

X. 

Casa Grande, [A] the mansion of the Iturbi y Moncadas in Santa Barbara, stood at the right of the Presidio, facing the channel. A mile behind, under the shadow of the gaunt rocky hills curving about the valley, was the long white Mission, with its double towers, corridor of manyarches, and sloping roof covered with red tiles. Between was the wildvalley where cattle grazed among the trees and the massive bowlders. The red-tiled white adobe houses of the Presidio and of the littletown clustered under its wing, the brown mud huts of the Indians, weregrouped in the foreground of the deep valley. 

The great house of the Iturbi y Moncadas, erected in the first yearsof the century, was built about three sides of a court, measuring onehundred feet each way. Like most of the adobes of its time, it hadbut one story. A wide pillared corridor, protected by a slopingroof, faced the court, which was as bare and hard as the floor of aball-room. Behind the dwelling were the manufactories and huts of theIndian retainers. Don Guillermo Iturbi y Moncada was the magnate ofthe South. His ranchos covered four hundred thousand acres; hishorses and cattle were unnumbered. His Indians, carpenters, coopers, saddlers, shoemakers, weavers, manufacturers of household staples, supplied the garrison and town with the necessaries of life; he alsodid a large trading business in hides and tallow. Rumor had it that inthe wooden tower built against the back of the house he kept gold bythe bushel-basketful; but no one called him miser, for he gave thepoor of the town all they ate and wore, and kept a supply of drugs fortheir sick. So beloved and revered was he that when earthquakes shookthe town, or fires threatened it from the hills, the poor ran in abody to the court-yard of Casa Grande and besought his protection. They never passed him without saluting to the ground, nor his housewithout bending their heads. And yet they feared him, for he was anirascible old gentleman at times, and thumped unmercifully when in atemper. Chonita, alone, could manage him always. 

When I returned to Santa Barbara with Chonita after her visit toMonterey, the yellow fruit hung in the padres' orchard, the grass wasburning brown, sky and water were the hard blue of metal. 

The afternoon of our arrival, Don Guillermo, Chonita, and I were onthe long middle corridor of the house: in Santa Barbara one lived inthe air. The old don sat on the long green bench by the sala door. Hisheavy, flabby, leathery face had no wrinkles but those which curvedfrom the corners of the mouth to the chin. The thin upper lip washabitually pressed hard against the small protruding under one, themouth ending in straight lines which seemed no part of the lips. Hissmall slanting eyes, usually stern, could snap with anger, as they didto-day. The nose rose suddenly from the middle of his face; it mighthave been applied by a child sculpturing with putty; the flat bridgewas crossed by erratic lines. A bang of grizzled hair escaped from theblack silk handkerchief wound as tightly as a turban about his head. He wore short clothes of dark brown cloth, the jacket decoratedwith large silver buttons, a red damask vest, shoes of embroidereddeer-skin, and a cravat of fine linen. 

Chonita, in a white gown, a pale-green reboso about her shoulders, herarms crossed, her head thoughtfully bent forward, walked slowly up anddown before him. 

"Holy God!" cried the old man, pounding the floor with his stick. "That they have dared to arrest my son!--the son of Guillermo Iturbi yMoncada! That Alvarado, my friend and thy host, should have permittedit!"

"Do not blame Alvarado, my father. Remember, he must listen to theDepartmental Junta; and this is their work. " "Fool that I am!" sheadded to herself, "why do I not tell who alone is to blame? But I needno one to help me hate him!"

"Is it true that this Estenega of whom I hear so much is a member ofthe Junta?"

"It may be. "

"If so, it is he, he alone, who has brought dishonor upon my house. Again they have conquered!"

"This Estenega I met--and who was _compadre_ with me for the baby--islittle in California, my father. If it be he who is a member of theJunta, he could hardly rule such men as Alvarado, Jimeno, and Castro. I saw no other Estenega. "

"True! I must have other enemies in the North; but I had not knownof it. But they shall learn of my power in the South. Don Juan de laBorrasca went to-day to Los Angeles with a bushel of gold to bail myson, and both will be with us the day after to-morrow. A curse uponCarillo--but I will speak of it no more. Tell me, my daughter, --Godof my soul, but I am glad to have thee back!--what thoughtest thou ofthis son of the Estenegas? Is it Ramon, Esteban, or Diego? I have seennone of them since they were little ones. I remember Diego well. Hehad lightning in his little tongue, and the devil in his brain. Iliked him, although he was the son of my enemy; and if he had been anIturbi y Moncada I would have made a great man of him. Ay! but he wasquick. One day in Monterey, he got under my feet and I fell flat, muchimperilling my dignity, for it was on Alvarado Street, and I was amember of the Territorial Deputation. I could have beaten him, I wasso angry; but he scrambled to his little feet, and, helping me tomine, he said, whilst dodging my stick, 'Be not angry, señor. I gavemy promise to the earth that thou shouldst kiss her, for all the worldhas prayed that she should not embrace thee for ninety years to come. 'What could I do? I gave him a cake. Thou smilest, my daughter; butthou wilt not commend the enemy of thy house, no? Ah, well, we growless bitter as we grow old; and although I hated his father I likedDiego. Again, I remember, I was in Monterey, and he was there; hisfather and I were both members of the Deputation. Caramba! what hotwords passed between us! But I was thinking of Diego. I took a volumeof Shakespeare from him one day. 'Thou art too young to read suchbooks, ' I said. 'A baby reading what the good priests allow not mento read. I have not read this heretic book of plays, and yet thou dostlie there on thy stomach and drink in its wickedness. ' 'It is true, 'he said, and how his steel eyes did flash; 'but when I am as old asyou, señor, my stomach will be flat and my head will be big. Thouart the enemy of my father, but--hast thou noticed?--thy stomach isbigger than his, and he has conquered thee in speech and in politicsmore times than thou hast found vengeance for. Ay!--and thy ranchoshave richer soil and many more cattle, but he has a library, DonGuillermo, and thou hast not. ' I spanked him then and there; but Inever forgot what he said, and thou hast read what thou listed. Iwould not that the children of Alejandro Estenega should know morethan those of Guillermo Iturbi y Moncada. "

"Thou hast cause to be proud of Reinaldo, for he sparkles like thespray of the fountain, and words are to him like a shower of leaves inautumn. And yet, and yet, " she added, with angry candor, "he has not abrain like Diego Estenega. _He_ is not a man, but a devil. "

"A good brain has always a devil at the wheel; sharp eyes have sharpernerves behind; and lightning from a big soul flashes fear into alittle one. Diego is not a devil, --I remember once I had a headache, and he bathed my head, and the water ran down my neck and gave me acold which put me to bed for a week, --but he is the devil's godson, and were he not the son of my enemy I should love him. His father wascruel and vicious--but smart, Holy Mary! Diego has his brain; but hehas, too, the kind heart and gentle manner--Ay! Holy God!--Come, come:here are the horses. Call Prudencia, and we will go to the bark andsee what the good captain has brought to tempt us. "

Four horses led by vaqueros, had entered the court-yard. 

"Prudencia, " called Chonita. 

A door opened, and a girl of small figure, with solemn dark eyes andcream-like skin, her hair hanging in heavy braids to her feet, steppedupon the corridor, draping a pink reboso about her head. 

"I am here, my cousin, " she said, walking with all the dignity of theSpanish woman, despite her plump and inconsiderable person. "Thou artrested, Doña Eustaquia? Do we go to the ship, my uncle? and shall webuy this afternoon? God of my life! I wonder has he a high comb tomake me look tall, and flesh-colored stockings. My own are gone withholes. I do not like white--"

"Hush thy chatter, " said her uncle. "How can I tell what the captainhas until I see? Come, my children. "

We sprang to our saddles, Don Guillermo mounted heavily, and wecantered to the beach, followed by the ox-cart which would carry thefragile cargo home. A boat took us to the bark, which sat motionlesson the placid channel. The captain greeted us with the lively welcomedue to eager and frequent purchasers. 

"Now, curb thy greed, " cried Don Guillermo, as the girls dropped downthe companion-way, "for thou hast more now than thou canst wear infive years. God of my soul! if a bark came every day they would wantevery shred on board. My daughter could tapestry the old house withthe shawls she has. "

When I reached the cabin I found the table covered with silks, satins, crêpe, shawls, combs, articles of lacquer-ware, jewels, silkstockings, slippers, spangled tulle, handkerchiefs, lace, fans. Thegirls' eyes were sparkling. Chonita clapped her hands and ran aroundthe table, pressing to her lips the beautiful white things she quicklysegregated, running her hand eagerly over the little slippers, hangingthe lace about her shoulders, twisting a rope of garnets in her yellowhair. 

"Never have they been so beautiful, Eustaquia! Is it not so, myPrudencia?" she cried to the girl, who was curled on one corner ofthe table, gloating over the treasures she knew her uncle's generositywould make her own. "Look, how these little diamonds flash! And theembroidery on this crêpe!--a dozen eyes went out ay! yi! This satinis like a tile! These fans were made in Spain! This is as big as awindmill. God of my soul!"--she threw a handful of yellow sewing-silkupon a piece of white satin; "Ana shall embroider this gown, --thegolden poppies of California on a bank of mountain snow. " She suddenlyseized a case of topaz and a piece of scarlet silk and ran over tome: I being a Montereña, etiquette forbade me to purchase in SantaBarbara. "Thou must have these, my Eustaquia. They will become theewell. And wouldst thou like any of my white things? Mary! but I amselfish. Take what thou wilt, my friend. "

To refuse would be to spoil her pleasure and insult her hospitality:so I accepted the topaz--of which I had six sets already--and thesilk, --whose color prevailed in my wardrobe, --and told her that Idetested white, which did not suit my weather-dark skin, and she wasas blind and as pleased as a child. 

"But come, come, " she cried. "My father is not so generous when he hasto wait too long. "

She gathered the mass of stuff in her arms and staggered up thecompanion-way. I followed, leaving Prudencia raking the trove hershort arms would not hold. 

"Ay, my Chonita!" she wailed, "I cannot carry that big piece of pinksatin and that vase. And I have only two pairs of slippers and onefan. Ay, Cho-n-i-i-ta, look at those shawls! Mother of God, supposeValencia Menendez comes--"

"Do not weep on the silk and spoil what thou hast, " called downChonita from the top step. "Thou shalt have all thou canst wear for ayear. "

She reached the deck and stood panting and imperious before herfather. "All! All! I must have all!" she cried. "Never have they beenso fine, so rich. "

"Holy Mary!" shrieked Don Guillermo. "Dost thou think I am made ofdoubloons, that thou wouldst buy a whole ship's cargo? Thou shalt havea quarter; no more, --not a yard!"

"I will have all!" And the stately daughter of the Iturbi y Moncadasstamped her little foot upon the deck. 

"A third, --not a yard more. And diamonds! Holy Heaven! There isnot gold enough in the Californias to feed the extravagance of theSeñorita Doña Chonita Iturbi y Moncada. "

She managed to bend her body in spite of her burden, her eyes flashingsaucily above the mass of tulle which covered the rest of her face. 

"And not fine raiment enough in the world to accord with the stateof the only daughter of the Señor Don Guillermo Iturbi y Moncada, thedelight and the pride of his old age. Wilt thou send these things tothe North, to be worn by an Estenega? Thy Chonita will cry her eyesso red that she will be known as the ugly witch of Santa Barbara, andCasa Grande will be like a tomb. "

"Oh, thou spoilt baby! Thou wilt have thy way--" At this momentPrudencia appeared. Nothing whatever could be seen of her small personbut her feet; she looked like an exploded bale of goods. "What! what!"gasped Don Guillermo. "Thou little rat! Thou wouldst make a Christmasdoll of thyself with satin that is too heavy for thy grandmother, andeke out thy dumpy inches with a train? Oh, Mother of God!" He turnedto the captain, who was smoking complacently, assured of the issue. "I will let them carry these things home; but to-morrow one-half, atleast, comes back. " And he stamped wrathfully down the deck. 

"Send the rest, " said Chonita to the captain, "and thou shalt have abag of gold to-night. "

[Footnote A: In writing of Casa Grande and its inmates, no referenceto the distinguished De la Guerra family of Santa Barbara is intended, beyond the description of their house and state and of the generalcharacteristics of the founder of the family fortunes in California. ]

XI. 

The next morning Chonita, clad in a long gown of white wool, a silvercross at her throat, her hair arranged like a coronet, sat in a largechair in the dispensary. Her father stood beside a table, parcellingdrugs. The sick-poor of Santa Barbara passed them in a long line. 

The Doomswoman exercised her power to heal, the birthright of thetwin. 

"I wonder if I can, " she said to me, laying her white fingers on aknotted arm, "or if it is my father's medicines. I have no right toquestion this beautiful faith of my country, but I really don't seehow I do it. Still, I suppose it is like many things in our religion, not for mere human beings to understand. This pleases my vanity, atleast. I wonder if I shall have cause to exercise my other endowment. "

"To curse?"

"Yes: I think I might do that with something more of sincerity. "

The men, women, and children, native Californians and Indians, scrubbed for the occasion, filed slowly past her, and she touched allkindly and bade them be well. They regarded her with adoring eyes andbent almost to the ground. 

"Perhaps they will help me out of purgatory, " she said; "and it issomething to be on a pedestal; I should not like to come down. It isa cheap victory, but so are most of the victories that the world knowsof. "

When she had touched nearly a hundred, they gathered about her, andshe spoke a few words to them. 

"My friends, go, and say, 'I shall be well. ' Does not the Bible saythat faith shall make ye whole? Cling to your faith! Believe! Believe!Else will you feel as if the world crumbled beneath your feet!And there is nothing, nothing to take its place. What folly, whatpresumption, to suggest that anything can--a mortal passion--" Shestopped suddenly, and continued coldly, "Go, my friends; words do notcome easily to me to-day. Go, and God grant that you may be well andhappy. "

XII. 

We sat in the sala the next evening, awaiting the return of theprodigal and his deliverer. The night was cool, and the doors wereclosed; coals burned in a roof-tile. The room, unlike most Californiansalas, boasted a carpet, and the furniture was covered with green rep, instead of the usual black horse-hair. 

Don Guillermo patted the table gently with his open palm, accompanyingthe tinkle of Prudencia's guitar and her light monotonous voice. Shesat on the edge of a chair, her solemn eyes fixed on a painting ofReinaldo which hung on the wall. Doña Trinidad was sewing as usual, and dressed as simply as if she looked to her daughter to maintain thestate of the Iturbi y Moncadas. Above a black silk skirt she wore ablack shawl, one end thrown over her shoulder. About her head was aclose black silk turban, concealing, with the exception of two softgray locks on either side of her face, what little hair she may stillhave possessed. Her white face was delicately cut: the lines of timeindicated spiritual sweetness rather than strength. 

Chonita roved between the sala and an adjoining room where four Indiangirls embroidered the yellow poppies on the white satin. I was readingone of her books, --the "Vicar of Wakefield. "

"Wilt thou be glad to see Reinaldo, my Prudencia?" asked DonGuillermo, as the song finished. 

"Ay!" and the girl blushed. 

"Thou wouldst make a good wife for Reinaldo, and it is well that hemarry. It is true that he has a gay spirit and loves company, but youshall live here in this house, and if he is not a devoted husband heshall have no money to spend. It is time he became a married man andlearned that life was not made for dancing and flirting; then, too, would his restless spirit get him into fewer broils. I have heardhim speak twice of no other woman, excepting Valencia Menendez, and Iwould not have her for a daughter; and I think he loves thee. "

"Sure!" said Doña Trinidad. 

"That is love, I suppose, " said Chonita, leaning back in her chair andforgetting the poppies. "With her a placid contented hope, with him acalm preference for a malleable woman. If he left her for another shewould cry for a week, then serenely marry whom my father bade her, andforget Reinaldo in the _donas_ of the bridegroom. The birds do almostas well. "

Don Guillermo smiled indulgently. Prudencia did not know whetherto cry or not. Doña Trinidad, who never thought of replying to herdaughter, said, --

"Chonita mia, Liseta and Tomaso wish to marry, and thy father willgive them the little house by the creek. "

"Yes, mamacita?" said Chonita, absently: she felt no interest in theloves of the Indians. 

"We have a new Father in the Mission, " continued her mother, remembering that she had not acquainted her daughter with all theimportant events of her absence. "And Don Rafael Guzman's son wasdrafted. That was a judgment for not marrying when his father badehim. For that I shall be glad to have Reinaldo marry. I would not havehim go to the war to be killed. "

"No, " said Don Guillermo. "He must be a diputado to Mexico. I wouldnot lose my only son in battle. I am ambitious for him; and so artthou, Chonita, for thy brother? Is it not so?"

"Yes. I have it in me to stab the heart of any man who rolls a stonein his way. "

"My daughter, " said Don Guillermo, with the accent of duty rather thanof reproof, "thou must love without vengeance. Sustain thy brother, but harm not his enemy. I would not have thee hate even an Estenega, although I cannot love them myself. But we will not talk of theEstenegas. Dost thou realize that our Reinaldo will be with us thisnight? We must all go to confession to-morrow, --thy mother and myself, Eustaquia, Reinaldo, Prudencia, and thyself. "

Chonita's face became rigid. "I cannot go to confession, " she said. "It may be months before I can: perhaps never. "

"What?"

"Can one go to confession with a hating and an unforgiving heart? Ay!that I never had gone to Monterey! At least I had the consolation ofmy religion before. Now I fight the darkness by myself. Do not askme questions, for I shall not answer them. But taunt me no more withconfession. "

Even Don Guillermo was dumb. In all the twenty-four years of her lifeshe never had betrayed violence of spirit before: even her hatred ofthe Estenegas had been a religion rather than a personal feeling. Itwas the first glimpse of her soul that she had accorded them, and theywere aghast. What--what had happened to this proud, reserved, carelessdaughter of the Iturbi y Moncadas?

Doña Trinidad drew down her mouth. Prudencia began to cry. Then, for the moment, Chonita was forgotten. Two horses galloped into thecourt-yard. 

"Reinaldo!"

The door had but an inside knob: Don Guillermo threw it open as ayoung man sprang up the three steps of the corridor, followed by alittle man who carefully picked his way. 

"Yes, I am here, my father, my mother, my sister, my Prudencia! Ay, Eustaquia, thou too. " And the pride of the house kissed each in turn, his dark eyes wandering absently about the room. He was a dashingcaballero, and as handsome as any ever born in the Californias. Thedust of travel had been removed--at a saloon--from his blue velvetgold-embroidered serape, which he immediately flung on the floor. Hisshort jacket and trousers were also of dark-blue velvet, the formerdecorated with buttons of silver filigree, the latter laced withsilver cord over spotless linen. The front of his shirt was coveredwith costly lace. His long botas were of soft yellow leather stampedwith designs in silver and gartered with blue ribbon. The clankingspurs were of silver inlaid with gold. The sash, knotted gracefullyover his hip, was of white silk. His curled black hair was tied with ablue ribbon, and clung, clustering and damp, about a low brow. He borea strange resemblance to Chonita, in spite of the difference of color, but his eyes were merely large and brilliant: they had no stars intheir shallows. His mouth was covered by a heavy silken mustache, andhis profile was bold. At first glance he impressed one as a perfecttype of manly strength, aggressively decided of character. It was onlywhen he cast aside the wide sombrero--which, when worn a littleback, most becomingly framed his face--that one saw the narrow, insignificant head. 

For a time there was no conversation, only a series of exclamations. Chonita alone was calm, smiling a loving welcome. In the excitement ofthe first moments little notice was taken of the devoted bailer, whoardently regarded Chonita. 

Don Juan de la Borrasca was flouting his sixties, fighting for hisyouth as a parent fights for its young. His withered little face worethe complacent smile of vanity; his arched brows furnished him with asupercilious expression which atoned for his lack of inches, --he wasbarely five feet two. His large curved nose was also a compensatinggift from the godmother of dignity, and he carried himself so erectlythat he looked like a toy general. His small black eyes were brightas glass beads, and his hair was ribboned as bravely as Reinaldo's. Hewas clad in silk attire, --red silk embroidered with butterflies. Hislittle hands were laden with rings; carbuncles glowed in the lace ofhis shirt. He was moderately wealthy, but a stanch retainer of thehouse of Iturbi y Moncada, the devoted slave of Chonita. 

She was the first to remember him, and held out her hand for him tokiss. "Thou hast the gratitude of my heart, dear friend, " she said, as the little dandy curved over it. "I thank thee a thousand times forbringing my brother back to me. "

"Ay, Doña Chonita, thanks be to God and Mary that I was enabled so todo. Had my mission proved unsuccessful I should have committed a crimeand gone to prison with him. Never would I have returned here. Dueñoadorado, ever at thy feet. "

Chonita smiled kindly, but she was listening to her brother, who wasnow expatiating upon his wrongs to a sympathetic audience. 

"Holy heaven!" he exclaimed, striding up and down the room, "that anIturbi y Moncada, the descendant of twenty generations, should be putto shame, to disgrace and humiliation, by being cast into a commonprison! That an ardent patriot, a loyal subject of Mexico, should beaccused of conspiring against the judgment of an Alvarado! Carillo wasmy friend, and had his cause been a just one I had gone with him tothe gates of death or the chair of state. But could I, _I_, conspireagainst a wise and great man like Juan Bautista Alvarado? No! not evenif Carillo had asked me so to do. But, by the stars of heaven, hedid not. I had been but the guest of his bounty for a month; and thesuspicious rascals who spied upon us, the poor brains who compose theDepartmental Junta, took it for granted that an Iturbi y Moncada couldnot be blind to Carillo's plots and plans and intrigues, that, havingbeen the intimate of his house and table, I must perforce aid and abetwhatever schemes engrossed him. Ay, more often than frequently dida dark surmise cross my mind, but I brushed it aside as one does theprompting of evil desires. I would not believe that a Carillo wouldplot, conspire, and rise again, after the terrible lesson he hadreceived in 1838. Alvarado holds California to his heart; Castro, theMars of the nineteenth century, hovers menacingly on the horizon. Who, who, in sober reason, would defy that brace of frowning gods?"

His eloquence was cut short by respiratory interference, but hecontinued to stride from one end of the room to the other, hisface flushed with excitement. Prudencia's large eyes followed him, admiration paralyzing her tongue. Doña Trinidad smiled upward withthe self-approval of the modest barn-yard lady who has raised amagnificent bantam. Don Guillermo applauded loudly. Only Chonitaturned away, the truth smiting her for the first time. 

"Words! words!" she thought, bitterly. "_He_ would have said all thatin two sentences. Is it true--_ay, triste de mi!_--what he said of mybrother? I hate him, yet his brain has cut mine and wedged there. Myhead bows to him, even while all the Iturbi y Moncada in me arises tocurse him. But my brother! my brother! he is so much younger. And ifhe had had the same advantages--those years in Mexico and America andEurope--would he not know as much as Diego Estenega? Oh, sure! sure!"

"My son, " Don Guillermo was saying, "God be thanked that thou didstnot merit thy imprisonment. I should have beaten thee with my cane andlocked thee in thy room for a month hadst thou disgraced my name. But, as it happily is, thou must have compensation for unjusttreatment. --Prudencia, give me thy hand. "

The girl rose, trembling and blushing, but crossed the room withstately step and stood beside her uncle. Don Guillermo took her handand placed it in Reinaldo's. "Thou shalt have her, my son, " he said. "I have divined thy wishes. "

Reinaldo kissed the small fingers fluttering in his, making a greatflourish. He was quite ready to marry, and his pliant little cousinsuited him better than any one he knew. "Day-star of my eyes!" heexclaimed, "consolation of my soul! Memories of injustice, discomfort, and sadness fall into the waters of oblivion rolling at thy feet. Isee neither past nor future. The rose-hued curtain of youth and hopefalls behind and before us. "

"Yes, yes, " assented Prudencia, delightedly. "My Reinaldo! myReinaldo!"

We congratulated them severally and collectively, and, when theceremony was over, Reinaldo cried, with even more enthusiasm than hehad yet shown, "My mother, for the love of Mary give me something toeat, --tamales, salad, chicken, dulces. Don Juan and I are as empty ashides. "

Doña Trinidad smiled with the pride of the Californian housewife. "Itis ready, my son. Come to the dining-room, no?"

She led the way, followed by the family, Reinaldo and Prudencialingering. As the others crossed the threshold he drew her back. 

"A lump of tallow, dost thou hear, my Prudencia?" he whispered, hurriedly. "Put it under the green bench. I must have it to-night. "

"Ay! Reinaldo--"

"Do not refuse, my Prudencia, if thou lovest me. Wilt thou do it?"

"Sure, my Reinaldo. "

XIII. 

The family retired early in its brief seasons of reclusion, and at teno'clock Casa Grande was dark and quiet. Reinaldo opened his door andlistened cautiously, then stepped softly to the green bench and feltbeneath for the lump of tallow. It was there. He returned to his roomand swung himself from his window into the yard, about which wereirregularly disposed the manufactories of the Indians, a high wallprotecting the small town. All was quiet here, and had been for hours. He stole to the wooden tower and mounted a ladder, lifting it fromstory to story until he reached the attic under the pointed roof. Thenhe lit a candle, and, removing a board from the floor, peered downinto the room whose door was always so securely locked. The starsshone through the uncurtained windows and were no yellower than thegold coins heaped on the large table and overflowing the baskets. Reinaldo took a long pole from a corner and applied to one end a pieceof the soft tallow. He lowered the pole and pressed it firmly into thepile of gold on the table. The pole was withdrawn, and this ingeniousfisherman removed a large gold fish from the bait. He fished patientlyfor an hour, then filled a bag he had brought for the purpose, andreturned as he had come. Not to his bed, however. Once more he openedhis door and stole forth, this time to the town, to hold high revelaround the gaming-table, where he was welcomed hilariously by his booncompanions. 

A wild fandango in a neighboring booth provided relaxation for thegamblers. In an hour or two Reinaldo found his way to this well-knownhaven. Black-eyed dancing-girls in short skirts of tawdry satintrimmed with cotton lace, mock jewels on their bare necks and in theircoarse black hair, flew about the room and screamed with delight asReinaldo flung gold pieces among them. The excitement continued in allits variations until morning. Men bet and lost all the gold they hadbrought with them, then sold horse, serape, and sombrero to themen who neither drank nor gambled, but came prepared for close andprofitable bargains. Reinaldo lost his purloins, won them again, stoodupon the table and spoke with torrential eloquence of his wrongs andvirtues, kissed all the girls, and when by easy and rapid stages hehad succeeded in converting himself into a tank of aguardiente, he wascarried home and put to bed by such of his companions as were soberenough to make no noise. 

XIV. 

Chonita, clad in a black gown, walked slowly up and down the corridorof Casa Grande. The rain should have dripped from the eaves, beatenwith heavy monotony upon the hard clay of the court-yard, to accompanyher mood, but it did not. The sky was blue without fleck of cloud, thesun like the open mouth of a furnace of boiling gold, the air as warmand sweet and drowsy as if it never had come in shock with human care. Prudencia sat on the green bench, drawing threads in a fine linensmock, her small face rosy with contentment. 

"Why dost thou wear that black gown this beautiful morning?" shedemanded, suddenly. "And why dost thou walk when thou canst sit down?"

"I had a dream last night. Dost thou believe in dreams?" She had asmuch regard for her cousin's opinion as for the twittering of a bird, but she felt the necessity of speech at times, and at least this childnever remembered what she said. 

"Sure, my Chonita. Did not I dream that the good captain would bringpink silk stockings? and are they not my own this minute?" And shethrust a diminutive foot from beneath the hem of her gown, regardingit with admiration. "And did not I dream that Tomaso and Liseta wouldmarry? What was thy dream, my Chonita?"

"I do not know what the first part was; something very sad. All Iremember is the roar of the ocean and another roar like the windthrough high trees. Then a moment that shook and frightened me, butsweeter than anything I know of, so I cannot define it. Then a swiftawful tragedy--I cannot recall the details of that, either. The wholedream was like a black mass of clouds, cut now and again by a scytheof lightning. But then, like a vision within a dream, I seemed tostand there and see myself, clad in a black gown, walking up anddown this corridor, or one like it, up and down, up and down, neverresting, never daring to rest, lest I hear the ceaseless clatter ofa lonely fugitive's horse. When I awoke I was as cold as if I hadreceived the first shock of the surf. I cannot say why I put on thisblack gown to-day. I make no haste to feel as I did when I wore it inthat dream, --the desolation, --the endlessness; but I did. "

"That was a strange dream, my Chonita, " said Prudencia, threading herneedle. "Thou must have eaten too many dulces for supper: didst thou?"

"No, " said Chonita, shortly, "I did not. "

She continued her aimless walk, wondering at her depression ofspirits. All her life she had felt a certain mental loneliness, buta healthy body rarely harbors an invalid soul, and she had only tospring on a horse and gallop over the hills to feel as happy as ayoung animal. Moreover, the world--all the world she knew--was at herfeet; nor had she ever known the novelty of an ungratified wish. Oncein a while her father arose in an obdurate mood, but she had only tocoax, or threaten tears, --never had she been seen to shed one, --orstamp her foot, to bring that doting parent to terms. It is truethat she had had her morbid moments, an abrupt impatient desire forsomething that was not all light and pleasure and gold and adulation;but, being a girl of will and sense, she had turned resolutely fromthe troublous demands of her deeper soul, regarding them as coalsfallen from a mind that burned too hotly at times. 

This morning, however, she let the blue waters rise, not so muchbecause they were stronger than her will, as because she wished tounderstand what was the matter with her. She was filled with a dulldislike of every one she had ever known, of every condition whichhad surrounded her from birth. She felt a deep disgust of placidcontentment, of the mere enjoyment of sunshine and air. She recalleddrearily the clock-like revolutions of the year which broughtbull-fights, races, rodeos, church celebrations; her mother'sanecdotes of the Indians; her father's manifold interests, ever thetheme of his tongue; Reinaldo's grandiloquent accounts of his exploitsand intentions; Prudencia's infinite nothings. She hated the balls ofwhich she was La Favorita, the everlasting serenades, the whole lifeof pleasure which made that period of California the most perfectedArcadia the modern world has known. Some time during the past fewweeks the girl had crossed her hands over her breast and lain down inher eternal tomb. The woman had arisen and come forth, blinded as yetby the light, her hands thrust out gropingly. 

"It is that man, " she told herself, with angry frankness. "I hadnot talked with him ten minutes before I felt as I do when the scenechanges suddenly in one of Shakespeare's plays, --as if I had beenflung like a meteor into a new world. I felt the necessity for mentalalertness for the first time in my life; always, before, I had strivento conceal what I knew. The natural consequences, of course, werefirst the desire to feel that stimulation again and again, then torealize the littleness of everything but mental companionship. I haveread that people who begin with hate sometimes end with love; and if Iwere a book woman I suppose I should in time love this man whom I nowso hate, even while I admire. But I am no lump of wax in the handsof a writer of dreams. I am Chonita Iturbi y Moncada, and he is DiegoEstenega. I could no more love him than could the equator kiss thepoles. Only, much as I hate him, I wish I could see him again. Heknows so much more than any one else. I should like to talk to him, to ask him many things. He has sworn to marry me. " Her lip curledscornfully, but a sudden glow rushed over her. "Had he not been anEstenega, --yes, I could have loved him, --that calm, clear-sightedlove that is born of regard; not a whirlwind and a collapse, like mostlove. I should like to sit with my hands in my lap and hear him talkforever. And we cannot even be friends. It is a pity. "

The girl's mind was like a splendid castle only one wing of which hadever been illuminated. By the light of the books she had read, andof acute observation in a little sphere, she strove to penetrate thethick walls and carry the torch into broader halls and lofty towers. But superstition, prejudice, bitter pride, inexperience of life, conjoined their shoulders and barred the way. As Diego Estenega haddiscerned, under the thick Old-World shell of inherited impressionswas a plastic being of all womanly possibilities. But so little didshe know of herself, so futile was her struggle in the dark with onlysudden flashes to blind her and distort all she saw, that with nothingto shape that moulding kernel it would shrink and wither, and in a fewyears she would be but a polished shell, perfect of proportion, hollowat the core. 

But if strong intellectual juices sank into that sweet, pliant kernel, developing it into the perfected form of woman, establishing thecurrent between the brain and the passions, finishing the work, orleaving it half completed, as Circumstance vouchsafed?--what then?

"Ay, Señor!" exclaimed Prudencia, as two people, mounted on horsesglistening with silver, galloped into the court-yard. "Valencia andAdan!"

I came out of the sala at that moment and watched them alight: Adan, that faithful, dog-like adorer, of whose kind every beautiful womanhas a half-dozen or more, Valencia the bitter-hearted rival ofChonita. She was a tall, dazzling creature, with flaming black eyeslarge and heavily lashed, and a figure so lithe that she seemed tosweep downward from her horse rather than spring to the ground. Shehad the dark rich skin of Mexico--another source of envy and hatred, for the Iturbi y Moncadas, like most of the aristocracy of thecountry, were of pure Castilian blood and as white as porcelain inconsequence--and a red full mouth. 

"Welcome, my Chonita!" she cried. "_Valgame Dios!_ but I am glad tosee thee back!" She kissed Chonita effusively. "Ay, my poor brother!"she whispered, hurriedly. "Tell him that thou art glad to see him. "And then she welcomed me with words that fell as softly as rose-leavesin a zephyr, and patted Prudencia's head. 

Chonita, with a faint flush on her cheek, gave Adan her hand to kiss. She had given this faithful suitor little encouragement, but hisunswerving and honest devotion had wrung from her a sort of carelessaffection; and she told me that first night in Monterey that if sheever made up her mind to marry she thought she would select Adan: hewas more tolerable than any one she knew. It is doubtful if he hadcrossed her mind since; and now, with all a woman's unreason, sheconceived a sudden and violent dislike for him because she had treatedhim too kindly in her thoughts. I liked Adan Menendez; there wassomething manly and sure about him, --the latter a restful if not afascinating quality. And I liked his appearance. His clear brown eyeshad a kind direct regard. His chin was round, and his profile a littlethick; but the gray hair brushed up and away from his low foreheadgave dignity to his face. His figure was pervaded with the indolenceof the Californian. 

"At your feet, señorita mia, " he murmured, his voice trembling. 

"It gives me pleasure to see thee again, Adan. Hast thou been well andhappy since I left?"

It was a careless question, and he looked at her reproachfully. 

"I have been well, Chonita, " he said. 

At this moment our attention was startled by a sharp exclamation fromValencia. Prudencia had announced her engagement. Valencia had refusedmany suitors, but she had intended to marry Reinaldo Iturbi y Moncada. Not that she loved him: he was the most brilliant match in threehundred leagues. Within the last year he had bent the knee to thefamous coquette; but she had lost her temper one day, --or, rather, ithad found her, --and after a violent quarrel he had galloped away, andgone almost immediately to Los Angeles, there to remain until DonJuan went after him with a bushel of gold. She controlled herself ina moment, and swayed her graceful body over Prudencia, kissing herlightly on the cheek. 

"Thou baby, to marry!" she said, softly. "Thou didst take away mybreath. Thou dost look no more than fourteen years. I had forgottenthe grand merienda of thy eighteenth birthday. "

Prudencia's little bosom swelled with pride at the discomfiture of thehaughty beauty who had rarely remembered to notice her. Prudencia wasnot poor; she owned a goodly rancho; but it was an hacienda to thestate of a Menendez. 

"Thou wilt be one of my bridesmaids, no, Doña Valencia?" she asked. 

"That will be the proud day of my life, " said Valencia, graciously. 

"We have a ball to-night, " said Chonita. 

"Thou wouldst have had word to-day. Thou wilt stay now, no? and notride those five leagues twice again? I will send for thy gown. "

"Truly, I will stay, my Chonita. And thou wilt tell me all about thyvisit to Monterey, no?"

"All? Ay! sure!"

Adan kissed both Prudencia's little hands in earnest congratulation. As he did so, the door of Reinaldo's room opened, and the heir of theIturbi y Moncadas stepped forth, gorgeous in black silk embroideredwith gold. He had slept off the effects of the night's debauch, andcold water had restored his freshness. He kissed Prudencia's hand, hisown to us, then bent over Valencia's with exaggerated homage. 

"At thy feet, O loveliest of California's daughters. In the immensityof thought, going to and coming from Los Angeles, my imagination hasspread its wings like an eagle. Thou hast been a beautiful day-dream, posing or reclining, dancing, or swaying with grace superlative on thyrestive steed. I have not greeted my good friend Adan. I can but lookand look and keep on looking at his incomparable sister, the rose ofroses, the queen of queens. "

"Thy tongue carols as easily as a lark's, " said Valencia, with buthalf-concealed bitterness. "Thou couldst sing all day, --and the nextforget. "

"I forget nothing, beautiful señorita, --neither the fair days ofspring nor the ugly storms of winter. And I love the sunshine and fleefrom the tempest. Adan, brother of my heart, welcome as ever to CasaGrande--Ay! here is my father. He looks like Sancho Panza. "

Don Guillermo's sturdy little mustang bore him into the court-yard, shaking his stout master not a little. The old gentleman's blacksilk handkerchief had fallen to his shoulders: his face was red, butcovered with a broad smile. 

"I have letters from Monterey, " he said, as Reinaldo and Adan ran downthe steps to help him alight. "Alvarado goes by sea to Los Angelesthis month, but returns by land in the next, and will honor us witha visit of a week. I shall write to him to arrive in time for thewedding. Several members of the Junta come with him, --and of theirnumber is Diego Estenega. "

"Who?" cried Reinaldo. "An Estenega? Thou wilt not ask him to crossthe threshold of Casa Grande?"

"I always liked Diego, " said the old man, somewhat confusedly. "And heis the friend of Alvarado. How can I avoid to ask him, when he is ofthe party?"

"Let him come, " cried Reinaldo. "God of my life!--I am glad that hecomes, this lord of redwood forests and fog-bound cliffs. It is wellthat he see the splendor of the Iturbi y Moncadas, --our pageants andour gay diversions, our cavalcades of beauty and elegance under acanopy of smiling blue. Glad I am that he comes. Once for all shallhe learn that, although his accursed family has beaten ours in war andpolitics, he can never hope to rival our pomp and state. "

"Ah!" said Valencia to Chonita, "I have heard of this Diego Estenega. I too am glad that he comes. I have the advantage of thee this time, my friend. Thou and he must hate each other, and for once I am withouta rival. He shall be my slave. " And she tossed her spirited head. 

"He shall not!" cried Chonita, then checked herself abruptly, theblood rushing to her hair. "I hate him so, " she continued hurriedlyto the astonished Valencia, "that I would see no woman show him favor. Thou wilt not like him, Valencia. He is not handsome at all, --no colorin his skin, not even white, and eyes in the back of his head. Nomustache, no curls, and a mouth that looks, --oh, that mouth, so grim, so hard!--no, it is not to be described. No one could; it makes youhate him. And he has no respect for women; he thinks they were made toplease the eye, no more. I do not think he would look ten seconds atan ugly woman. Thou wilt not like him, Valencia, sure. "

"Ay, but I think I shall. What thou hast said makes me wish to see himthe more. God of my life! but he must be different from the men of theSouth. And I shall like that. "

"Perhaps, " said Chonita, coldly. "At least he will not break thyheart, for no woman could love him. But come and take thy siesta, no? and refresh thyself for the dance. I will send thee a cupof chocolate. " And, bending her head to Adan, she swept down thecorridor, followed by Valencia. 

XV. 

Those were two busy months before Prudencia's wedding. Twenty girls, sharply watched and directed by Doña Trinidad and the sometimemistress of Casa Grande, worked upon the marriage wardrobe. Prudenciawould have no use for more house-linen; but enough fine linen was madeinto underclothes to last her a lifetime. Five keen-eyed girls didnothing but draw the threads for deshalados, and so elaborate was theopen-work that the wonder was the bride did not have bands and stripesof rheumatism. Others fashioned crêpes and flowered silks and heavysatins into gowns with long pointed waists and full flowing skirts, some with sleeves of lace and high to the base of the throat, otherscut to display the plump whiteness of the owner. Twelve rebosos weremade for her; Doña Trinidad gave her one of her finest mantillas;Chonita, the white satin embroidered with poppies, for which she hadconceived a capricious dislike. She also invited Prudencia to takewhat she pleased from her wardrobe; and Prudencia, who was nothing ifnot practical, helped herself to three gowns which had been made forChonita at great expense in the city of Mexico, four shawls of Chinesecrêpe, a roll of pineapple silk, and an American hat. 

The house until within two weeks of the wedding was full ofvisitors, --neighbors whose ranchos lay ten leagues away or nearer, and the people of the town; all of them come to offer congratulations, chatter on the corridor by day and dance in the sala by night. Thecourt was never free of prancing horses pawing the ground foreighteen hours at a time under their heavy saddles. Doña Trinidad'scooking-girls were as thick in the kitchen as ants on an anthill, forthe good things of Casa Grande were as famous as its hospitality, andnot the least of the attractions to the merry visitors. When we didnot dance at home we danced at the neighbors' or at the Presidio. During the last two weeks, however, every one went home to rest andprepare for the festivities to succeed the wedding; and the old housewas as quiet as a canon in the mountains. 

Chonita took a lively concern in the preparations at first, but herinterest soon evaporated, and she spent more and more time in thelittle library adjoining her bedroom. She did less reading thanthinking, however. Once she came to me and tried for fifteen minutesto draw from me something in Estenega's dispraise; and when I finallyadmitted that he had a fault or two I thought she would scalp me. Still, at this time she was hardly more than fascinated, interested, tantalized by a mind she could appreciate but not understand. If theyhad never met again he would gradually have moved backward tothe horizon of her memory, growing dim and more dim, hovered in acloud-bank for a while, then disappeared into that limbo which mustexist somewhere for discarded impressions, and all would have beenwell. 

XVI. 

The evening before the wedding Prudencia covered her demure selfwith black gown and reboso, and, accompanied by Chonita, went to theMission to make her last maiden confession. Chonita did not go withher into the church, but paced up and down the long corridor of thewing, gazing absently upon the deep wild valley and peaceful ocean, seeing little beyond the images in her own mind. 

That morning Alvarado and several members of the Junta had arrived, but not Estenega. He had come as far as the Rancho Temblor, Alvaradoexplained, and there, meeting some old friends, had decided to remainover night and accompany them the next day to the ceremony. As Chonitahad stood on the corridor and watched the approach of the Governor'scavalcade her heart had beaten violently, and she had angrilyacknowledged that her nervousness was due to the fact that she wasabout to meet Diego Estenega again. When she discovered that hewas not of the party, she turned to me with pique, resentment, anddisappointment in her face. 

"Even if I cannot ever like him, " she said, "at least I might have thepleasure of hearing him talk. There is no harm in that, even if he isan Estenega, a renegade, and the enemy of my brother. I can hate himwith my heart and like him with my mind. And he must have cared littleto see us again, that he could linger for another day. "

"I am mad to see Don Diego Estenega, " said Valencia, her red lipspouting. "Why did he, of all others, tarry?"

"He is fickle and perverse, " I said, --"the most uncertain man I know. "

"Perhaps he thought to make us wish to see him the more, " suggestedValencia. 

"No, " I said: "he has no ridiculous vanities. "

Chonita wandered back and forth behind the arches, waiting forPrudencia's long confession of sinless errors to conclude. 

"What has a baby like that to confess?" she thought, impatiently. "Shecould not sin if she tried. She knows nothing of the dark stormsof rage and hatred and revenge which can gather in the breasts ofstronger and weaker beings. I never knew, either, until lately; butthe storm is so black I dare not face it and carry it to the priest. Iam a sort of human chaos, and I wish I were dead. I thought to forgethim, and I see him as plainly as on that morning when he told me thatit was he who would send my brother to prison----"

She stopped short with a little cry. Diego Estenega stood before theMission in the broad swath of moonlight. She had heard a horse gallopup the valley, but had paid no attention to the familiar sound. Estenega had appeared as suddenly as if he had arisen from the earth. 

"It is I, señorita. " He ascended the Mission steps. "Do not fear. MayI kiss your hand?"

She gave him her hand, but withdrew it hurriedly. Of the tremendousmystery of sex she knew almost nothing. Girls were brought up in suchignorance in those days that many a bride ran home to her mother onher wedding night; and books teach Innocence little. But she was fullyconscious that there was something in the touch of Estenega's lips andhand that startled while it thrilled and enthralled. 

"I thought you stayed with the Ortegas to-night, " she said. Oh, blessed conventions!

"I did, --for a few hours. Then I wanted to see you, and I left themand came on. At Casa Grande I found no one but Eustaquia; every oneelse had gone to the gardens; and she told me that you were here. "

Chonita's heart was beating as fast as it had beaten that morning;even her hands shook a little. A glad wave of warmth rushed over her. She turned to him impetuously. "Tell me?" she exclaimed. "Why do Ifeel like this for you? I hate you: you know that. There are manyreasons, --five; you counted them. And yet I feel excited, almost glad, at your coming. This morning I was disappointed when you did not. Tellme, --you know everything, and I so little, --why is it?"

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes terrified and appealing. She lookedvery lovely and natural. Probably for the first time in his lifeEstenega resisted a temptation. He passionately wished to take her inhis arms and tell her the truth. But he was too clever a man; therewas too much at stake; if he frightened her now he might never evensee her again. Moreover, she appealed to his chivalry. And it suddenlyoccurred to him that so sweet a heart would be warped in its waking ifpassion bewildered and controlled her first. 

"Doña Chonita, " he said, "like all women, --all beautiful and spoiledwomen, --you demand variety. I happen to be made of harder stuff thanyour caballeros, and you have not seen me for two months; that isall. "

"And if I saw you every day for two months would I no longer carewhether you came or went?"

"Undoubtedly. 

"Is it sweet or terrible to feel this way?" thought the girl. "Would Iregret if he no longer made me tremble, or would I go on my knees andthank the Blessed Virgin?" Aloud she said, "It was strange for me toask you such questions; but it is as if you had something in your mindseparate from yourself, and that _it_ would tell me, and you could notprevent its being truthful. I do not believe in _you_; you look as ifnothing were worth the while to lie or tell the truth about; but yourmind is quite different. It seems to me that it knows all things, thatit is as cold and clear as ice. "

"What a whimsical creature you are! My mind, like myself, --I feel asif I were twins, --is at your service. Forget that I am Diego Estenega. Regard me as a sort of archive of impressions which may amuse or serveyou as the poorest of your books do. That they happen to be cataloguedunder the general title of Diego Estenega is a mere detail; anaccident, for that matter; they might be pigeon-holed in the skull ofa Bandini or a Pico. I happen to be the magnet, that is all. "

"If I could forget that you were an Estenega, --just for a week, whileyou are here, " she said, wistfully. 

"You are a woman of will and imagination, --also of variety. Make anexperiment; it will interest you. Of course there will be times whenyou will be bitterly conscious that I am the enemy of your house; itwould be idle to expect otherwise; but when we happen to be apart fromdisturbing influences, let us agree to forget that we are anything buttwo human beings, deeply congenial. As for what I said in the gardenat Monterey, the last time we spoke together, --I shall not botheryou. "

"You no longer care?" she exclaimed. 

"I did not say that. I said I should not bother you, --recognizingyour hostility and your reasons. Be faithful to your traditions, mybeautiful doomswoman. No man is worth the sacrifice of those dear oldcomrades. What presumption for a man to require you to abandon thecause of your house, give up your brother, sacrifice one or more ofyour religious principles; one, too, who would open his doors to theAmericans you hate! No man is worth such a sacrifice as that. "

"No, " she said, "no man. " But she said it without enthusiasm. 

"A man is but one; traditions are fivefold, and multiplied by duty. Poor grain of sand--what can he give, comparable to the cold serenehappiness of fidelity to self? Love is sweet, --horribly sweet, --but socommon a madness can give but a tithe of the satisfaction of duty topure and lofty ideals. "

"I do not believe that. " The woman in her arose in resentment. "A lifeof duty must be empty, cold, and wrong. It was not that we were madefor. "

"Let us talk little of love, señorita: it is a dangerous subject. "

"But it interests me, and I should like to understand it. "

"I will explain the subject to you fully, some day. I have a fancy todo that on my own territory, --up in the redwoods--"

"Here is Prudencia. "

A small black figure swept down the steps of the church. She bowedlow to Estenega when he was presented, but uttered no word. The Indianservants brought the horses to the door, and they rode down the valleyto Casa Grande. 

XVII. 

The guests of Casa Grande--there were many besides Alvarado and hisparty; the house was full again--were gathered with the family on thecorridor as Estenega, Chonita, and Prudencia dismounted at the extremeend of the court-yard. As Reinaldo saw the enemy of his house approachhe ran down the steps, advanced rapidly, and bowed low before him. 

"Welcome, Señor Don Diego Estenega, " he said, --"welcome to CasaGrande. The house is thine. Burn it if thou wilt. The servants arethine; I myself am thy servant. This is the supreme moment of my life, supremer even than when I learned of my acquittal of the foulcharges laid to my door by scheming and jealous enemies. It islong--alas!--since an Estenega and an Iturbi y Moncada have met inthe court-yard of the one or the other. Let this moment be the seal ofpeace, the death of feud, the unification of the North and the South. "

"You have the hospitality of the true Californian, Don Reinaldo. Itgives me pleasure to accept it. "

"Would, then, thy pleasure could equal mine!" "Curse him!" he added toChonita, as Estenega went up the steps to greet Don Guillermo and DoñaTrinidad, "I have just received positive information that it washe who kept me from distinguishing myself and my house in theDepartmental Junta, he who cast me in a dungeon. It poisons myhappiness to sleep under the same roof with him. "

"Ay!" exclaimed Chonita. "Why canst thou not be more sincere, mybrother? Hospitality did not compel thee to say so much to thineenemy. Couldst thou not have spoken a few simple words like himself, and not blackened thy soul?"

"My sister! thou never spokest to me so harshly before. And on mymarriage eve!"

"Forgive me, my most beloved brother. Thou knowest I love thee. But itgrieves me to think that even hospitality could make thee false. "

When they ascended the steps, not a woman was to be seen; all hadfollowed Prudencia to her chamber to see the _donas_ of the groom, which had arrived that day from Mexico. Chonita tarried long enough tosee that her father had forgotten the family grievance in his revivedsusceptibility to Estenega, then went to Prudencia's room. Therewomen, young and old, crowded each other, jabbering like monkeys. Thelittle iron bed, the chairs and tables, every article of furniture, in fact, but the altar in the corner, displayed to advantage exquisitematerials for gowns, a mass of elaborate underclothing, a white lacemantilla to be worn at the bridal, lace flounces fine and deep, crêpeshawls, sashes from Rome, silk stockings by the dozen. On a largetable were the more delicate and valuable gifts: a rosary of topaz, the cross a fine piece of carving; a jeweled comb; a string ofpearls; diamond hoops for the ears; a large pin painted with a head ofGuadalupe, the patron saint of California; and several fragilefans. Quite apart, on a little table, was the crown and pride of the_donas_, --six white cobweb-like smocks, embroidered, hemistitched, anddeshaladoed. Did any Californian bridegroom forget that dainty item hewould be repudiated on his wedding-eve. 

"God of my life!" murmured Valencia, "he has taste as well as gold. And all to go on that round white doll!"

There was little envy among the other girls. Their eyes sparkled withgood-nature as they kissed Prudencia and congratulated her. The olderwomen patted the things approvingly; and, between religion, a _donas_to satisfy an angel, and prospective bliss, Prudencia was the happiestlittle bride-elect in all The Californias. 

"Never were such smocks!" cried one of the girls. "Ay! he will make agood husband. That sign never fails. "

"Thou must wear long, long trains now, my Prudencia, and be as statelyas Chonita. "

"Ay!" exclaimed Prudencia. Did not every gown already made have atrain longer than herself?

"Thou needst never wear a mended stocking with all these to last theefor years, " said another: never had silk stockings been brought tothe Californias in sufficient plenty for the dancing feet of itsdaughters. 

"I shall always mend my stockings, " said Prudencia, "I myself. "

"Yes, " said one of the older women, "thou wilt be a good wife andwaste nothing. "

Valencia laid her arm about Chonita's waist. "I wish to meet Don DiegoEstenega, " she said. "Wilt thou not present him to me?"

"Thou art very forward, " said Chonita, coldly. "Canst thou not waituntil he comes thy way?"

"No, my Chonita; I wish to meet him now. My curiosity devours me. "

"Very well; come with me and thou shalt know him. --Wilt thou come too, Eustaquia? There are only men on the corridor. "

We found Diego and Don Guillermo talking politics in a corner, bothdeeply interested. Estenega rose at once. 

"Don Diego Estenega, " said Chonita, "I would present you to theSeñorita Doña Valencia Menendez, of the Rancho del Fuego. "

Estenega bowed. "I have heard much of Doña Valencia, and am delightedto meet her. "

Valencia was nonplussed for a moment; he had not given her thecustomary salutation, and she could hardly murmur the customary reply. She merely smiled and looked so handsome that she could afford todispense with words. 

"A superb type, " said Estenega to me, as Don Guillermo claimedthe beauty's attention for a moment. "But only a type; nothingdistinctive. "

Nevertheless, ten minutes later, Valencia, with the manoeuvring of thegeneral of many a battle, had guided him to a seat in the sala underDoña Trinidad's sleepy wing, and her eyes were flashing the languageof Spain to his. I saw Chonita watch them for a moment, in mingledsurprise and doubt, then saw a sudden look of fear spring to her eyesas she turned hastily and walked away. 

Again I shared her room, --the thirty rooms and many in theout-buildings were overflowing with guests who had come a hundredleagues or less, --and after we had been in bed a half-hour, Chonita, overcome by the insinuating power of that time-honored confessional, told me of her meeting with Estenega at the Mission. I made fewcomments, but sighed; I knew him so well. "It will be strange to evenseem to be friends with him, " she added, --"to hate him in my heart andyet delight to talk with him, and perhaps to regret when he leaves. "

"Are you sure that you still hate him?"

She sat up in bed. The solid wooden shutters were closed, but over thedoor was a small square aperture, and through this a stray moonbeamdrifted and fell on her. Her hair was tumbling about her shoulders, and she looked decidedly less statuesque than usual. 

"Eustaquia, " she said, solemnly, "I believe I can go to confession. "

XVIII. 

At sunrise the next morning the guests of Casa Grande were horsed andready to start for the Mission. The valley between the house and theMission was alive with the immediate rancheros and their families, andthe people of the town, aristocrats and populace. 

At Estenega's suggestion, I climbed with him to the attic of thetower, much to the detriment of my frock. But I made no complaintafter Diego had removed the dusty little windows on both sides andI looked through the apertures at the charming scene. The rising sungave added fire to the bright red tiles of the long white Mission, and threw a pink glow on its noble arches and towers and on the whitemassive aqueduct. The bells were crashing their welcome to the bride. The deep valley, wooded and rocky, was pervaded by the soft glow ofthe awakening, but was as lively as midday. There were horses of everycolor the Lord has decreed that horses shall wear. The saddles uponthem were of embossed leather or rich embroidered silk heavily mountedwith silver. Above all this gorgeousness sat the caballeros andthe doñas, in velvet and silk, gold lace and Spanish, jewels andmantillas, and silver-weighted sombreros; a confused mass of color andmotion; a living picture, shifting like a kaleidoscope. Nor wasthis all: brown, soberly-dressed old men and women in satin-paddedcarretas, --heavy ox-carts on wheels made from solid sections of trees, and driven by a gañan seated on one of the animals; the populace incheap finery, some on foot, others astride old mules or broken-windedhorses, two or three on one lame old hack; all chattering, shouting, eager, interested, impatiently awaiting the bride and a week ofpleasure. 

In the court-yard and plaza before it the guests of the house weremounted on a caponera of palominas, --horses peculiar to the country;beautiful creatures, golden-bronze, and burnished, with luxuriantmanes and tails which waved and shone like the sparkling silver ofa water-fall. A number were riderless, awaiting the pleasure of thebridal party. One alone was white as a Californian fog. He lifted hishead and pranced as if aware of his proud distinction. The aquera andsaddle which embellished his graceful beauty were of pink silk workedwith delicate leaves in gold and silver thread. The stirrups, cut fromblocks of wood, were elaborately carved. The glistening reins weremade from the long crystal hairs of his mane, and linked with silver. A strip of pink silk, joined at the ends with a huge rosette, washung from the high silver pommel of the saddle, depending on the leftside, --a stirrup for my lady's foot. 

A deeper murmur, a sudden lining of sombreros and waving of littlehands, proclaimed that the bridal party had appeared, and we hasteneddown. 

Prudencia, the mantilla of the _donas_ depending from a comb sixinches high, was attired in a white satin gown with a train ofportentous length, and looked like a kitten with a long tail. Reinaldowas dazzling. He wore white velvet embroidered with gold; his linenand lace were more fragile than cobwebs; his white satin slipperswere clasped with diamond buckles, the same in which his father hadmarried; his jacket was buttoned with diamonds. His white velvetsombrero was covered with plumes. Never have I seen so splendida bridegroom. I saw Estenega grin; but I maintain that, whateverReinaldo's deficiencies, he was a picture to be thankful for thatmorning. 

Doña Trinadad was quietly gowned in gray satin, but Don Guillermo wasas picturesque in his way as his son. His black silk handkerchief hadbeen knotted hurriedly about his head, and the four corners hung uponhis neck. His short breeches were of red velvet, his jacket of bluecloth trimmed with large silver buttons and gold lace; his vest wasof yellow damask, his linen embroidered. Attached to his slippers wereenormous silver spurs inlaid with gold, the rowels so long that theyscratched more trains than one that day. 

The bridesmaids stood in a group apart, a large bouquet: each worea gown of a different color. Valencia blazed forth in yellow, and flashed triumphant glances at Estenega, now and again one ofirrepressible envy and resentment at Reinaldo. Chonita looked like awater-witch in pale green covered with lace that stirred with everybreath of air; her mantilla was as delicate as sea-spray. About herwas something subtle, awakened, restive, that I noticed for the firsttime. Once she intercepted one of Valencia's lavish glances, and herown eyes were extremely wicked and dangerous for a moment. I looked atEstenega. He was regarding her with a fierce intensity which made himoblivious for the moment of his surroundings. I looked at Valencia. Thunderclouds were those heavy brows, lowered to the lightning whichsprang from depths below. I looked again at Chonita. The pink colorwas in her marble face; pinker were her carven lips. 

"God of my soul!" I said to Estenega. "Go home. "

"My Prudencia, " said Don Guillermo. He lifted her to the pink saddle, adjusted her foot in the pink ribbon, climbed up behind her, placedone arm about her waist, took the bridle in his other hand, andcantered out of the court-yard. Reinaldo sprang to his horse, liftedhis mother in front of him, and followed. Then went the bridesmaids;and the rest of us fell into line as we listed. As we rode up thevalley, those awaiting us joined the cavalcade, the populace closingit, spreading out like a fan attached to the tail of a snake. Thebells rang out a joyful discordant peal; the long undulating line ofmany colors wound through the trees, passed the long corridor of theMission, to the stone steps of the church. 

The ceremony was a long one, for communion was given the bride andgroom; and during the greater part of it I do not think Estenegaremoved his gaze from Chonita. I could not help observing her too, although I was deeply impressed with the solemnity of the occasion. Her round womanly figure had never appeared to greater advantage thanin that close-fitting gown; her hips being rather wide, she wore fewergathers than was the fashion. Her faultless arms had a warmth in theirwhiteness; the filmy lace of her mantilla caressed a throat so fulland round and white and firm that it seemed to invite other caresses;even the black pearls clung lovingly about it. Her graceful head wasbent forward a little, and the soft black lashes brushed her cheeks. The pink flush was still in her face, like the first tinge of color onthe chill desolation of dawn. 

"Is she not beautiful?" whispered Estenega, eagerly. "Is not that awoman to make known to herself? Think of the infinite possibilities, the sublimation of every----"

Here I ordered him to keep quiet, reminding him that he was in church, a fact he had quite forgotten. I inferred that he remembered it later, for he moved restlessly more than once and looked longingly toward thedoor. 

It was over at last, and as the bride and groom appeared in the doorof the church and descended the steps, a salute was fired from thePresidio. On the long corridor a table had been built from end toend and a goodly banquet provided by the padres. We took our seatsat once, the populace gathering about a feast spread for them on thegrass. 

Padre Jimeno, the priest who had officiated at the ceremony, sat atthe head of the table; the other priests were scattered among us, andgood company all of them were. We were a very lively party. Prudenciawas toasted until her calm important head whirled. Reinaldo made aspeech as full of flowers as the occasion demanded. Alvarado madeone also, five sentences of plain well-chosen words, to which thebridegroom listened with scorn. Now and again a girl swept the stringsof a guitar or a caballero sang. The delighted shrieks of the peoplecame over to us; at regular intervals cannons were fired. 

Estenega found himself seated between Chonita and Valencia. I wasopposite, and beginning to feel profoundly fascinated by this dramadeveloping before my eyes. I saw that he was amused by the situationand not in the least disconcerted. Valencia was nervous and eager. Chonita, whose pride never failed her, had drawn herself up and lookedcoldly indifferent. 

"Señor, " murmured Valencia, "thou wilt tarry with us long, no? We havemuch to show thee in Santa Barbara, and on our ranchos. "

"I fear that I can stay but a week, señorita. I must return to LosAngeles. "

"Would nothing tempt thee to stay, Don Diego?"

He looked into her rich Southern face and approved of it: when had heever failed to approve of a pretty woman? "Thine eyes, señorita, wouldtempt a man to forget more than duty. "

"And thou wilt stay?"

"When I leave Santa Barbara what I take of myself will not be worthleaving. "

"Ay! and what thou leavest thou never shalt have again. "

"There is my hope of heaven, señorita. "

He turned from this glittering conversation to Chonita. 

"You are a little tired, " he said, in a low voice. "Your color hasgone, and the shadows are coming about your eyes. "

The suspicion was borne home to her that he must have observed herclosely to detect those shades of difference which no one else hadnoted. 

"A little, señor. I went to bed late and rose early. Such times asthese tax the endurance. But after a siesta I shall be refreshed. "

"You look strong and very healthy. "

"Ay, but I am! I am not delicate at all. I can ride all day, andswim--which few of our women do. I even like to walk; and I can danceevery night for a week. Only, this is an unusual time. "

Her supple elastic figure and healthy whiteness of skin betokenedendurance and vitality, and he looked at her with pleasure. "Yes, youare strong, " he said. "You look as if you would _last_, --as if younever would grow brown nor stout. "

"What difference, if the next generation be beautiful?" she said, lightly. "Look at Don Juan de la Borrasca. See him gaze upon PanchitaLopez, who is just sixteen. What does he care that the women of hisday are coffee-colored and stringy or fat? You will care as littlewhen you too are brown and dried up, afraid to eat dulces, and eachmonth seeking a new parting for your hair. "

"You are a hopeful seer! But you--are you resigned to the time wheneven the withered old beau will not look at you, --you who are theloveliest woman in the Californias?"

It was the first compliment he had paid her, and she looked up with aswift blush, then lowered her eyes again. "With truth, I never imaginemyself except as I am now; but I should have always my books, and nohusband to teach me that there were other women more fair. "

"And books will suffice, then?"

"Sure. " She said it a little wistfully. Then she added, abruptly, "Ishall go to confession this week. "

"Ah!"

"Yes; for although I hate you still--that is, I do not like you--Ihave forgiven you. I believe you to be kind and generous, althoughthe enemy of my brother; that if you did oppose him and cast himinto prison, you did so with a loyal motive; you cannot help makingmistakes, for you are but human. And I do not forget that if it werenot for you he would not be a bridegroom to-day. Also, you are notresponsible for being an Estenega; so, although I do not forgive theblood in you, --how could I, and be worthy to bear the name of Iturbi yMoncada?--I forgive you, yourself, for being what you cannot help, andfor what you have unwittingly and mistakenly done. Do you understand?"

"I understand. Your subtleties are magnificent. "

"You must not laugh at me. Tell me, how do you like my friendValencia?"

"Well enough. I want to hear more about your confession. You fall backinto the bosom of your Church with joy, I suppose?"

"Ay!"

"And you would never disobey one of her mandates?"

"Holy God! no. "

"Why?"

"Why? Because I am a Catholic. "

"That is not what I asked you. Why are you a Catholic? if I must makemyself more plain. Why are you afraid to disobey? Why do you cling tothe Church with your back braced against your intelligence? It is hopeof future reward, I suppose, --or fear?"

"Sure. I want to go to the heaven of the good Catholic. "

"Do not waste this life, particularly the youth of it, preparing fora legendary hereafter. Granting, for the sake of argument, that thisexistence is supplemented by another: you have no knowledge of whatelements you will be composed when you lay aside your mortal part toenter there. Your power of enjoyment may be very thin indeed, like themusic of a band without brass; the sort of happiness one can imagine ahuman being to experience out of whose anatomy the nervous system hasby some surgical triumph been removed, and in whom love of the artsalone exists, abnormally cultivated. But one thing we of earth doknow; you do not, but I will tell you; we have a slight capacity forhappiness and a large capacity for enjoyment. There is not much inlife, God knows, but there is something. One can get a reasonableamount out of it with due exercise of philosophy. Of that we are sure. Of what comes after we are absolutely unsure. "

She had endeavored to interrupt him once or twice, and did so now, hereyes flashing. "Are you an atheist?" she demanded, abruptly. "Are younot a Catholic?"

"I am neither an atheist nor a Catholic. The question of religion hasno interest for me whatever. I wish it had none for you. "

She looked at him sternly. For a moment I thought the Doomswoman wouldannihilate the renegade. But her face softened suddenly. "I will prayfor you, " she said, and turned to the man at her right. 

Estenega's face turned the chalky hue I always dreaded, and he benthis lips to her ear. 

"Pray for me many times a day; and at other times recall what I saidabout the relative value of possible and improbable heavens. You are awoman who thinks. "

"Don Diego, " exclaimed Valencia, unable to control her impatiencelonger, and turning sharply from the caballero who was talking to herin a fiery undertone, "thou hast not spoken to me for ten minutes. "

"For ten hours, señorita. Thou hast treated me with the scorn andindifference of one weary of homage. "

She blushed with gratification. "It is thou who hast forgotten me. "

"Would that I could!"

"Dost thou wish to?"

"When I am away from thee, or thou talkest to other men, --sure. "

"It is thy fault if I talk to other men. "

"You make me feel the Good Samaritan. "

"But I care not to talk to them. "

"Thy heart is a comb of honey, señorita. On my knees I accept thelittle morsel the queen bee--thy swift messenger--brings me. Truly, never was sweet so sweetly sweet. "

"It is thou who hast the honey on thy tongue, although I fear theremay be a stone in thy heart. "

"Ah! Why? No stone could sit so lightly in my breast as my heart whenthose red lips smile to me. "

Chonita listened to this conversation with mingled amazement andanger. She did not doubt Estenega's sincerity to herself; neither didValencia appear to doubt him. But his present levity was manifest toher. Why should he care to talk so to another woman? How strange weremen! She gave up the problem. 

After the long banquet concluded, the cavalcade formed once more, andwe returned to the town. Prudencia rode her white horse alone thistime, her husband beside her. Leading the cavalcade was the Presidioband. Its members wore red jackets trimmed with yellow cord, Turkishtrousers of white wool, and red Polish caps. With their music mingledthe regular detonations of the Presidio cannon. After we had woundthe length of the valley we made a progress through the town for thebenefit of the populace, who ran to the corridors to watch us, andshouted with delight. But the sun was hot, and we were all glad to bebetween the thick adobe walls once more. 

We took a long siesta that day, but hours before dark the populacewas crowded in the court-yard under the booth which had been erectedduring the afternoon. After the early supper the guests of CasaGrande, and our neighbors of the town, filled the sala, the large barerooms adjoining, and the corridors. The old people of both degreesseated themselves in rows against the wall, the fiddles scraped, theguitars twanged, the flutes cooed, and the dancing began. 

In the court-yard a small space was cleared, and changing couplesdanced El Jarabe and La Jota, --two stately jigs, --whilst thespectators applauded with wild and impartial enthusiasm, and DonGuillermo from the corridor threw silver coins at the dancers' feet. Now and again a pretty girl would dance alone, her gay skirt liftedwith the tips of her fingers, her eyes fixed upon the ground. A manwould approach from behind and place his hat on her head. Perhaps shewould toss it saucily aside, perhaps let it rest on her coquettishbraids, --a token that its owner was her accepted gallant for theevening. 

Above, the slender men and women of the aristocracy, the former inblack and white, the latter in gowns of vivid richness, danced thecontradanza, the most graceful dance I have ever seen; and since thoseCalifornian days I have lived in almost every capital of Europe. The music is so monotonous and sweet, the figures so melting andharmonious, that to both spectator and dancer comes a dreaming languidcontentment, as were the senses swimming on the brink of sleep. Chonita and Valencia were famous rivals in its rendering, always thesala-stars to those not dancing. Valencia was the perfection of grace, but it was the grace now of the snake, again of the cat. She suggestedfangs and claws, a repressed propensity to sudden leaps. Chonita'sgrace was that of rhythmical music imprisoned in a woman's form ofproportions so perfect that she seemed to dissolve from one figureinto another, swaying, bending, gliding. The soul of grace emanatedfrom her, too evanescent to be seen, but felt as one feels perfume orthe something that is not color in the heart of a rose. Her star-likeeyes were open, but the brain behind them was half asleep: she dancedby instinct. 

I was watching the dancing of these two, --the poetry of promise andthe poetry of death, --when suddenly Don Guillermo entered the room, stamped his foot, pulled out his rosary, and instantly we all wentdown on our knees. It was eight of the clock, and this ceremony wasnever omitted in Casa Grande, be the occasion festive or domestic. When we had told our beads, Don Guillermo rose, put his rosary in hispocket, trotted out, and the dancing was resumed. 

As the contradanza and its ensuing waltz finished, Estenega went up toChonita. "You are too tired to dance any more to-night, " he said. "Letus sit here and talk. Besides, I do not like to see you whirling aboutthe room in men's arms. "

"It is nothing to you if I dance with other men, " she said, rebelliously, although she took the seat he indicated. "And to danceis not wrong. "

"Nothing is wrong. In some countries the biggest liar is king. Weknow as little of ethics--except, to be sure, the ethics ofcivilization--as one sex knows of another. So we fall back oninstinct. I have not a prejudice, but I feel it disgusting to see awoman who is somewhat more to me than other women, embraced by anotherman. It would infuriate me if done in private; why should it not atleast disgust me in public? I care as little for the approving sealof the conventions as I care whether other women--including my ownsisters--waltz or not. "

And, alas! from that night Chonita never waltzed again. "It is notthat I care for his opinion, " she assured me later; "only he made mefeel that I never wanted a man to touch me again. "

Valencia used every art of flashing eyes and pouting lips and gaysally--there was nothing subtle in her methods--to win Estenega to herside; but the sofa on which he sat with Chonita might have beenthe remotest star in the firmament. Then, prompted by pique anddetermination to find ointment for her wounded vanity, she suddenlyopened her batteries upon Reinaldo. That beautiful young bridegroomwas bored to the verge of dissolution by his solemn and sleepyPrudencia, who kept her wide eyes upon him with an expression of raptadoration, exactly as she regarded the Stations in the Mission whenperforming the Via Crucis. Valencia, to his mind, was the handsomestwoman in the room, and he felt the flattery of her assault. Besides, he was safely married. So he drifted to her side, danced with her, flirted with her, devoted himself to her caprices, until every one wasnoting, and I thought that Prudencia would bawl outright. Just in themoment, however, when our nerves were humming, Don Guillermo thumpedon the door with his stick and ordered us all to go to bed. 

XIX. 

The next morning we started at an early hour for the Rancho de lasRocas, three leagues from Santa Barbara. The populace remained in thebooth, but we were joined by all our friends of the town, and oncemore were a large party. We were bound for a merienda and a carnesada, where bullocks would be roasted whole on spits over a bed of coals ina deep excavation. It took a Californian only a few hours to sleepoff fatigue, and we were as fresh and gay as if we had gone to bed ateight the night before. 

Valencia managed to ride beside Estenega, and I wondered if shewould win him. Woman's persistence, allied to man's vanity, so oftenaccomplishes the result intended by the woman. It seemed to me thesimplest climax for the unfolding drama, although I should have beensorry for Diego. 

It was Reinaldo's turn to look black, but he devoted himselfostentatiously to Prudencia, who beamed like a child with a stick ofcandy. Chonita rode between Don Juan de la Borrasca and Adan. Her facewas calm, but it occurred to me that she was growing careless of hersovereignty, for her manner was abstracted and indifferent; she seemedto have discarded those little coquetries which had sat so gracefullyupon her. Still, as long as she concealed the light of her mind undera bushel, her beauty and Lorleian fascination would draw men to herfeet and keep them there. Every man but Estenega and Alvarado wasas gay of color as the wild flowers had been, and the girls, as theycantered, looked like full-blown roses. Chonita wore a dark-blue gownand reboso of thin silk, which became her fairness marvelously well. 

"Doña Chonita, light of my eyes, " said Don Juan, "thou art not wont tobe so quiet when I am by thee. "

"Thou usually hast enough to say for two. "

"Ay, thou canst appreciate the art of speech. Hast thou ever known anyone who could converse with lighter ease than I and thy brother?"

"I never have heard any one use more words. "

"Ay! they roll from my tongue--and from Reinaldo's--like wheelsdownhill. "

She turned to Adan: "They will be happy, you think, --Reinaldo andPrudencia?"

"Ay!"

"What a beautiful wedding, no?"

"Ay!"

"Life is always the same with thee, I suppose, --smoking, riding, swinging in the hammock?"

"Ay!"

"Thou wouldst not exchange thy life for another? Thou dost not wish totravel?"

"No, --sure. "

She wheeled suddenly and galloped over to her father and Alvarado, hercaballeros staring helplessly after her. 

When we arrived at the rancho the bullocks were already swingingin the pits, the smell of roast meat was in the air. We dismounted, throwing our bridles to the vaqueros in waiting; and while Indianservants spread the table, the girls joined hands and danced about thepit, throwing flowers upon the bullocks, singing and laughing. Themen watched them, or amused themselves in various ways, --some withcockfights and impromptu races; others began at once to gamble on alarge flat stone; a group stood about a greased pole and jeered at tworival vaqueros endeavoring to mount it for the sake of the gold pieceon the top. One buried a rooster in the ground, leaving its headalone exposed; others, mounting their horses, dashed by at full speed, snatching at the head as they passed. Reinaldo distinguished himselfby twisting it off with facile wrist while urging his horse to theswiftness of the east wind. 

"I am going to dare more than Californian has ever dared before, " saidEstenega to me, as we gathered at length about the table-cloth. "I amgoing to get Doña Chonita off by herself in that little canon and havea talk with her. Now, do you stand guard. "

"I shall not!" I exclaimed. "It is understood that when Doña Trinidadstays at home Chonita is in my charge. I will not permit such athing. "

"Thou wilt, my Eustaquia. Doña Chonita is no pudding-brained girl. Sheneeds no dueña. "

"I know that; but it is not that I am thinking of. Suppose some onesees you; thou knowest the inflexibility of our conventions. "

"You forget that we are _comadre_ and _compadre_. Our privilegesare many. " He abruptly dismissed the intimate "thou, " with his usualAmerican perversity. 

"True; I had forgotten. But whither is all this tending, Diego? Sheneither will nor can marry you. "

"She both can and will. Will you help me, or not? Because if not Ishall proceed without you. Only you can make it easier. "

I always gave way to him; everybody did. 

He was as good as his word. How he managed, Chonita never knew, butnot a half-hour after dinner she found herself alone in the canon withhim, seated among the huge stones cataclysms had hurled there. 

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked. 

"To talk with you. "

"But this would be severely censured. "

"Do you care?"

"No. "

She looked at him with a curious feeling she had had before; therewas something inside of his head that she wanted to get at, --somethingthat baffled and teased and allured her. She wanted to understand him, and she was oppressed by the weight of her ignorance; she had no keyto unlock a man like that. With one of her swift impulses she told himof what she was thinking. 

He smiled, his eyes lighting. "I am more than willing you shouldknow all that you would be curious about, " he said. "Ask me a hundredquestions; I will answer them. "

She meditated a moment. She never had taken sufficient interest in aman before to desire to fathom him, and the arts of the Californianbelle were not those of the tactfully and impartially interested womanof to-day. She did not know how to begin. 

"What have you read?" she asked, at length. 

He gave her some account of his library, --a large one, --and mentionedmany books of many nations, of which she had never heard. 

"You have read all those books?"

"There are many long winter nights and days in the redwood forests ofthe northern coast. "

"That does not tell me much, --what you have read. I feel that it isbut one of the many items which went to the making up of you. You havetraveled everywhere, no? Was it like living over again the books oftravel?"

"Not in the least. Each man travels for himself. "

"Madame de Staël said that traveling was sad. Is it so?"

"To the lover of history it is like food without salt: imagination haspainted an historical city with the panorama of a great time; it hasbeen to us a stage for great events. We find it a stage with familiarparaphernalia, and actors as commonplace as ourselves. "

"It is more satisfactory to stay at home and read about it?"

"Infinitely, though less expanding. "

"Then is anything worth while except reading?

"Several things; the pursuit of glory, for one thing, and the activeoccupied life necessary for its achievement. "

She leaned forward a little; she felt that she had stumbled nearer tohim. "Are you ambitious?" she asked. 

"For what it compels life to yield; abstractly, not. Ambition is thelooting of hell in chase of biting flames swirling above a desert ofashes. As for posthumous fame, it must be about as satisfactory as adraught of ice-water poured down the throat of a man who has died onSahara. And yet, even if in the end it all means nothing, if 'fromhour to hour we ripe and ripe and then from hour to hour we rotand rot, ' still for a quarter-century or so the nettle of ambitionflagellating our brain may serve to make life less uninteresting andmore satisfactory. The abstraction and absorption of the fight, thestinging fear of rivals, the murmur of acknowledgment, the shout ofcompelled applause, --they fill the blanks. "

"Tell me, " she said, imperiously, "what do you want?"

"Shall I tell you? I never have spoken of it to a living soul butAlvarado. Shall I tell it to a woman, --and an Iturbi y Moncada? Couldthe folly of man further go?"

"If I am a woman I am an Iturbi y Moncada, and if I am an Iturbi yMoncada I have the honor of its generations in my veins. "

"Very good. I believe you would not betray me, even in the interest ofyour house. Would you?"

"No. "

"And I love to talk to you, to tell you what I would tell no other. Listen, then. An envoy goes to Mexico next week with letters fromAlvarado, desiring that I be the next governor of the Californias, andcontaining the assurance that the Departmental Junta will endorseme. I shall follow next month to see Santa Ana personally; I know himwell, and he was a friend of my father's. I wish to be invested withpeculiar powers; that is to say, I wish California to be practicallyoverlooked while I am governor and I wish it understood that I shallbe governor as long as I please. Alvarado will hold no office underthe Americans, and is as ready to retire now as a few years later. Ofcourse my predilection for the Americans must be carefully concealedboth from the Mexican government and the mass of the people here:Santa Ana and Alvarado know what is bound to come; the Mexicans, generally, retain enough interest in the Californias to wish to keepthem. I shall be the last governor of the Department, and I shallemploy that period to amalgamate the native population so closely thatthey will make a strong contingent in the new order of things andbe completely under my domination. I shall establish a college withAmerican professors, so that our youth will be taught to think, and tothink in English. Alvarado has done something for education, but notenough; he has not enforced it, and the methods are very primitive. I intend to be virtually dictator. With as little delay as possibleI shall establish a newspaper, --a powerful weapon in the hands of aruler, as well as a factor of development. Then I shall organize asuperior court for the punishment of capital crimes. Not that I do notrecognize the right of a man to kill if his reasons satisfy himself, but there can be no subservience to authority in a country wheremurder is practically licensed. American immigration will be more thanencouraged, and it shall be distinctly understood by the Americansthat I encourage it. Everything, of course, will be done to promotegood-will between the Californians and the new-comers. Then, when theUnited States make up their mind to take possession of us, I shallwaste no blood, but hand over a country worthy of capture. In themeantime it will have been carefully drilled into the Californian mindthat American occupation will be for their ultimate good, and that Ishall go to Washington to protect their interests. There will then beno foolish insurrections. Do you care to hear more?"

Her face was flushed, her chest was rising rapidly. 

"I hardly know what to think, --how I feel. You interest me so much asyou talk that I wish you to succeed: I picture your success. And yetit maddens me to hear you talk of the Americans in that way, --alsoto know that your house will be greater than ours, --that we will beforgotten. But--yes, tell me all. What will you do then?"

"I shall have California, in the first place, scratched for the goldthat I believe lies somewhere within her. When that great resource_is_ located and developed I shall publish in every American newspaperthe extraordinary agricultural advantages of the country. In a word, my object is to make California a great State and its name synonymouswith my own. As I told you before, for fame as fame I care nothing;I do not care if I am forgotten on my death-bed; but with my bloodbiting my veins I must have action while living. Shall I say thatI have a worthier motive in wishing to aid in the development ofcivilization? But why worthier? Merely a higher form of selfishness. The best and the worst of motives are prompted by the same instinct. "

"I would advise you, " she said, slowly, "never to marry. Your wifewould be very unhappy. "

"But no one has greater scorn than you for the man who spends his lifewith his lips at the chalice of the poppy. "

"True, I had forgotten them. " She rose abruptly. "Let us go back, " shesaid. "It is better not to stay too long. "

As they walked down the canon she looked at him furtively. The men ofher race were almost all tall and finely-proportioned, but they didnot suggest strength as this man did. And his face, --it was sogrimly determined at times that she shrank from it, then drewnear, fascinated. It had no beauty at all--according to Californianstandards; she could not know that it represented all that intellect, refinement and civilization, generally, would do for the humanrace for a century to come, --but it had a subtle power, an absoluteaudacity, an almost contemptuous fearlessness in its bold, fineoutline, a dominating intelligence in the keen deeply-set eyes, anda hint of weakness, where and what she could not determine, thatmystified and magnetized her. 

"I know you a little better, " she said, "just a little, --enough tomake my curiosity ache and jump. At the same time, I know now what Idid not before, --that I might climb and mine and study and watch, andyou would always be beyond me. There is something subtle and evasiveabout you--something I seem to be close to always, yet never can seeor grasp. "

"It is merely the barrier of sex. A man can know a woman fairly well, because her life, consequently the interests which mould her mind andconceive her thoughts, are more or less simple. A man's life is socomplex, his nature so inevitably the sum and work of it of it liesso far outside of woman's sphere, his mind spiked with a thousandmagnets, each pointing to a different possibility, --that she wouldneed divine wisdom to comprehend him in his entirety, even if he madeher a diagram of every cell in his brain, --which he never would, outof consideration for both her and his own vanity. But within certainrestrictions there can be a magnificent sense of comradeship. "

"But a woman, I think, would never be happy with that something inthe man always beyond her grasp, --that something which she could benothing to. She would be more jealous of that independence of her inman than of another woman. "

"That was pure insight, " he said. "You could not know that. "

"No, " she said, "I had not thought of it before. "

I had made a martyr of myself on a three-cornered stone at theentrance of the canon, waiting to dueña them out. "Never will I dothis again!" I exclaimed, with that virtue born of discomfort, as theycame in sight. 

"My dearest Eustaquia, " said Diego, kissing my hand gallantly, "thouhast given me pleasure so often, most charming and clever of women, thou hast but added one new art to thy overflowing store. "

We mounted almost immediately upon returning, and I was alone withChonita for a moment. "Do you realize that you are playing with fire?"I said, warningly. "Estenega is a dangerous man; the most successfulman with women I have ever known. "

"I do not deny his power, " she said. "But I am safe, for the manyreasons thou knowest of. And, being safe, why should I deny myself thepleasure of talking to him? I shall never meet his like again. Let melive for a little while. "

"Ay, but do not live too hard! It hurts down into the core andmarrow. "

XX. 

While we were eating supper, a dozen Indian girls were gathered abouta table in one of the large rooms behind the house, busily engagedin blowing out the contents of several hundred eggs and filling thehollowed shells with cologne, flour, tinsel, bright scraps of paper. Each egg-was then sealed with white wax, and ready for the cascaronfrolic of the evening. 

We had been dancing, singing, and talking for an hour after rosario, when the eggs were brought in. In an instant every girl's hair wasunbound, a wild dive was made for the great trays, and eggs flew inevery direction. Dancing was forgotten. The girls and men chased eachother about the room, the air was filled with perfume and glitteringparticles, the latter looking very pretty on black floating hair. Etiquette demanded that only one egg should be thrown by the same handat a time, but quick turns of supple wrists followed each other veryrapidly. To really accomplish a feat the egg must crash on the back ofthe head, and each occupied in attack was easy prey. 

Chonita was like a child. Two priests were of our party, and she madea target of their shaven crowns, shrieking with delight. They vowedrevenge, and chased her all over the house; but not an egg had brokenon that golden mane. She was surrounded at one time by caballeros, butshe whirled and doubled so swiftly that every cascaron flew afield. 

The pelting grew faster and more furious; every room was invaded; wechased each other up and down the corridors. The people in the courthad their cascarones also, and the noise must have been heard at theMission. Don Guillermo hobbled about delightedly, covered with tinseland flour. Estenega had tried a dozen times to hit Chonita, but asif by instinct she faced him each time before the egg could leave hishand. Finally he pursued her down the corridor to her library, whereI, fortunately, happened to be resting, and both threw themselves intochairs, breathless. 

"Let us stay here, " he said. "We have had enough of this. "

"Very well, " she said. She bent her head to lift a book which hadfallen from a shelf, and felt the soft blow of the cascaron. 

"At last!" said Estenega, contentedly. "I was determined to conquer, if I waited until morning. "

Chonita looked vexed for a moment, --she did not like to bevanquished, --then shrugged her shoulders and leaned back in her chair. The little room was plainly furnished. Shelves covered three sides, and the window-seat and the table were littered with books. There wereno curtains, no ornaments; but Chonita's hair, billowing to the floor, her slender voluptuous form, her white skin and green irradiatingeyes, the candlelight half revealing, half concealing, made a picturerequiring no background. I caught the expression of Estenega's face, and determined to remain if he murdered me. 

Peals of laughter, joyous shrieks, screams of mock terror, floated into us. I broke a silence which was growing awkward:

"How happy they are! Creatures of air and sunshine! Life in thisArcadia is an idyl. "

"They are not happy, " said Estenega, contemptuously; "they are gay. They are light of heart through absence of material cares and endlesssources of enjoyment, which in turn have bred a careless order ofmind. But did each pause long enough to look into his own heart, wouldhe not find a stone somewhere in its depths?--perhaps a skull gravenon the stone, --who knows?"

"Oh, Diego!" I exclaimed, impatiently, "this is a party, not afuneral. "

"Then is no one happy?" asked Chonita, wistfully. 

"How can he be, when in each moment of attainment he is pricked by theknowledge that it must soon be over? The youth is not happy, becausethe shadow of the future is on him. The man is not happy, because theknowledge of life's incompleteness is with him. "

"Then of what use to live at all?"

"No use. It is no use to die, neither, so we live. I will grant thatthere may be ten completely happy moments in life, --the ten consciousmoments preceding certain death--and oblivion. "

"I will not discuss the beautiful hope of our religion with you, because you do not believe, and I should only get angry. But whatare we to do with this life? You say nothing is wrong nor right. Whatwould you have the stumbling and unanchored do with what has beenthrust upon him?"

"Man, in his gropings down through the centuries, has concocted, shivered, and patched certain social conditions well enough calculatedto develop the best and the worst that is in us, making it easier forus to be bad than good, that good might be the standard. We feel adeeper satisfaction if we have conquered an evil impulse and donewhat is accepted as right, because we have groaned and stumbled inthe doing, --that is all. Temptation is sweet only because the impulsecomes from the depths of our being, not because it is difficult to betempted. If we overcome, the satisfaction is deep and enduring, --whichonly goes to show that man is but a petty egotist, always drawingpictures of himself on a pedestal. The man who emancipates himselffrom traditions and yields to his impulses is debarred from happinessby the blunders of the blindfolded generations preceding him, whicharranged that to yield was easy and to resist difficult. Had theyreversed the conditions and conclusions, the majority of the humanrace would have fought each other to death, but the selected remnantwould have had a better time of it. 

"Let us suppose a case as conditions now exist. Assume, for the sakeof argument, that you loved me and that you plucked from your natureyour religion, your fidelity to your house, your love for yourbrother, and gave yourself to me. You would stand appalled at thesacrifice until you realized that you had come to me only becauseit would have been more difficult to stay away. You conquer thepassionate cry of love, --the strongest the human compound has evervoiced, --and you are miserably happy for the rest of your life noattitude being so pleasing to the soul as the attitude of martyrdom. Many a man and woman looks with some impatience for the last good-byeto be said, so sweet is the prospect of sadness, of suffering, ofresignation. "

I was aghast at his audacity, but I saw that Chonita was fascinated. Her egotism was caressed, and her womanhood thrilled. "Are we all suchshams as that?" was what she said. "You make me despise myself. "

"Not yourself, but a great structure--of which you are but agrain--with a faulty foundation. Don't despise yourself. Curse thebuilders who shoveled those stones together. "

He left her then, and she told me to go to bed; she wanted to sit awhile and think. 

"He makes you think too much, " I said. "Better forget what he says assoon as you can. He is a very disturbing influence. "

But she made me no reply, and sat there staring at the floor. Shebegan to feel a sense of helplessness, like a creature caught in anet. It was more the man's personality than his words which made herfeel as if he were pouring himself throughout her, taking possessionof brain and every sense, as though he were a sort of intellectualdrug. 

"I believe I was made from his rib, " she thought, angrily, "else whycan he have this extraordinary power over me? I do not love him. Ihave read somewhat of love, and seen more. This is different, quite. Ionly feel that there is something in him that I want. Sometimes I feelthat I must dig my nails into him and tear him apart until I findwhat I want, --something that belongs to me. Sometimes it is as if hepromised it, at others as if he were unconscious of its existence;always it is evanescent. Is he going to make my mind his own?--and yethe always seems to leave mine free. He has never snubbed me. He makesme think: there is the danger. "

An hour later there was a tap on her door. Casa Grande was asleep. Shesat upright, her heart beating rapidly. Estenega was audacious enoughfor anything. But it was her brother who entered. 

"Reinaldo!" she exclaimed, horrified to feel an unmistakable stab ofdisappointment. 

"Yes, it is I. Art thou alone?"

"Sure. "

"I have something to say to thee. "

He drew a chair close to her and sat down "Thou knowest, my sister, "he began, haltingly, "how I hate the house of Estenega. My hatredis as loyal as thine: every drop of blood in my veins is true to thehonor of the house of Iturbi y Moncada. But, my sister, is it not sothat one can sacrifice himself, his mere personal feelings, upon thealtar of his country? Is it not so, my sister?"

"What is it thou wishest me to understand, Reinaldo?"

"Do not look so stern, my Chonita. Thou hast not yet heard me; and, although thou mayest be angry then, thou wilt reason later. Thou artdevoted to thy house, no?"

"Thou hast come here in the night to ask me such a question as that?"

"And thou lovest thy brother?"

"Reinaldo, thou hast drunken more mescal than Angelica. Go back to thybride. " But, although she spoke lightly, she was uneasy. 

"My sister, I never drank a drop of mescal in my life! Listen. Itis our father's wish, thy wish, my wish, that I become a great anddistinguished man, an ornament to the house of Iturbi y Moncada, astar on the brow of California. How can I accomplish this greatand desirable end? By the medium of politics only; our wars are soinsignificant. I have been debarred from the Departmental Junta bythe enemy of our house, else would it have rung with my eloquence, andMexico have known me to-day. Yet I care little for the Junta. I wishto go as diputado to Mexico; it is a grander arena. Moreover, in thatgreat capital I shall become a man of the world, --which is necessaryto control men. That is _his_ power, --curse him! And he--he will notlet me go there. Even Alvarado listens to him. The Departmental Juntais under his thumb. I will never be anything but a caballero of SantaBarbara--I, an Iturbi y Moncada, the last scion of a line illustriousin war, in diplomacy, in politics--until he is either dead--do notjump, my sister; it is not my intention to murder him and ruin mycareer--or becomes my friend. "

"Canst thou not put thy meaning in fewer words?"

"My sister, he loves thee, and thou lovest thy brother and thy house. "

Chonita rose to her full height, and although he rose too, and wastaller, she seemed to look down upon him. 

"Thou wouldst have me marry him? Is that thy meaning?"

"Ay. " His voice trembled. Under his swagger he was always a littleafraid of the Doomswoman. 

"Thou askest perjury and disloyalty and dishonor of an Iturbi yMoncada?"

"An Iturbi y Moncada asks it of an Iturbi y Moncada. If the man isready to bend his neck in sacrifice to the glory of his house, is itfor the woman to think?"

Chonita stood grasping the back of her chair convulsively; it wasthe only sign of emotion she betrayed. She knew that what he said wastrue: that Estenega, for public and personal reasons, never wouldlet him go to Mexico; he would permit no enemy at court. But thisknowledge drifted through her mind and out of it at the moment; shewas struggling to hold down a hot wave of contempt rushing upwardwithin her. She clung to her traditions as frantically as she clung toher religion. 

"Go, " she said, after a moment. 

"Thou wilt think of what I have said?"

"I shall pray to forget it. "

"Chonita!" his voice rang out so loud that she placed her hand on hismouth. He dashed it away. "Thou wilt!" he cried, like a spoilt child. "Thou wilt! I shall go to the city of Mexico, and only thou canst sendme there. All my father's gold and leagues will not buy me a seat inthe Mexican Congress, unless this accursed Estenega lifts his handand says, 'Thou shalt. ' Holy God! how I hate him! Would that I hadthe chance to murder him! I would cut his heart out to-morrow. Andmy father likes him, and has outlived rancor. And thou--thou art notindifferent. "

"Go!"

He threw his arms about her, kissing and caressing her. "My sister! Mysister! Thou wilt! Say that thou wilt!" But she flung him off as if hewere a snake. 

"Wilt thou go?" she asked. 

"Ay! I go. But he shall suffer. I swear it! I swear it!" And he rushedfrom the room. 

Chonita sat there, staring more fixedly at the floor than whenEstenega had left her. 

XXI. 

Reinaldo did not go to his Prudencia. He went down to the booths inthe town and joined the late revelers. Don Guillermo, rising beforedawn, and walking up and down the corridor to conquer the pangs ofDoña Trinidad's dulces, noticed that the door of his son's room wasajar. He paused before it and heard slow, regular, patient sobs. Heopened the door and went in. Prudencia, alone, curled up in a farcorner of her bed, the clothes over her head, was bemoaning manythings incidental to matrimony. As she heard the sound of heavy stepsshe gave a little shriek. 

"It is I, Prudencia, " said her uncle. "Where is Reinaldo?"

"I--do--not--know. "

"Did he not come from the ball-room with thee?"

"N-o-o-o-o. "

"Dost thou know where he has gone?"

"N-o-o-o, señor. "

"Art thou afraid?"

"Ay! God--of--my--life!"

"Never mind, " said the old gentleman. "Go to sleep. Thy uncle willprotect thee, and this will not happen again. "

He seated himself by the bedside. Prudencia's sobs ceased gradually, and she fell asleep. An hour later the door opened softly, andReinaldo entered. In spite of the mescal in him, his knees shook as hesaw the indulgent but stern arbiter of the Iturbi y Moncada destiniessitting in judgment at the bedside of his wife. 

"Where have you been, sir?"

"To take a walk, --to see to--"

"No lying! It makes no difference where you have been. What I wantto know is this: Is it your duty to gallivant about town? or is yourplace at this hour beside your wife?"

"Here, señor. "

The old man rose, and, seizing the bride-groom by the shoulders, shookhim until his teeth clattered together. "Then see that you stay herewith her hereafter, or you shall no longer be a married man. " And hestamped out and slammed the door behind him. 

XXII. 

We spent the next day at the race-field. Many of the caballeros hadbrought their finest horses, and Reinaldo's were famous. The vaquerosthrew off their black glazed sombreros and black velvet jackets, wearing only the short black trousers laced with silver, a shirt ofdazzling whiteness, a silk handkerchief twisted about the head, andhuge spurs on their bare brown heels. Some of us stood on a platform, others remained on their horses; all were wild with excitement andscreamed themselves hoarse. The great dark eyes of the girls flashed, their red mouths trembled with the flood of eager exclamations; thelace mantilla or flowered reboso fluttered against hot cheeks, to betorn off, perhaps, and waved in the enthusiasm of the moment. Theyforgot the men, and the men forgot them. Even Chonita was oblivious toall else for the hour. She was a famous horsewoman, and keenly aliveto the enchantment of the race-field. The men bet their ranchos, wholecaponeras of their finest horses, herds of cattle, their saddles andtheir jewels. Estenega won largely, and, as it happened, from Reinaldoparticularly. Don Guillermo was rather pleased than otherwise, holdinghis son to be in need of further punishment; but Reinaldo was obligedto call upon all the courtesy of the Spaniard and all the falseness ofhis nature to help him remember that his enemy was his guest. 

We went home to siesta and long gay supper, where the races were theonly topic of conversation; then to dance and sing and flirtuntil midnight, the people in the booths as tireless as ourselves. Valencia's attentions to Estenega were as conspicuous as usual, but hemanaged to devote most of his time to Chonita. 

 * * * * *

That night Chonita had a dream. She dreamed that she awoke withouta soul. The sense of vacancy was awful, yet there was a singularundercurrent consciousness that no soul ever had been withinher, --that it existed, but was yet to be found. 

She arose, trembling, and opened her door. Santa Barbara was asquiet as all the world is in the chill last hours of night. Shehalf expected to see something hover before her, a will-o'-the-wisp, alluring her over the rocky valleys and towering mountains until deathgave her weary feet rest. She remembered vaguely that she had readlegends of that purport. 

But there was nothing, --not even the glow of a late cigarito or theflash of a falling star. Still she seemed to know where the soulawaited her. She closed her door softly and walked swiftly down thecorridor, her bare feet making no sound on the boards. At a door onthe opposite side she paused, shaking violently, but unable to passit. She opened the door and went in. The room, like all the others inthat time of festivity, had more occupants than was its wont; a bedwas in each corner. The shutters and windows were open, the moonlightstreamed in, and she saw that all were asleep. She crossed the roomand looked down upon Diego Estenega. His night garment, low about thethroat, made his head, with its sharply-cut profile, look like theheads on old Roman medallions. The pallor of night, the extremerefinement of his face, the deep repose, gave him an unmortalappearance. Chonita bent over him fearfully. Was he dead? Hisbreathing was regular, but very quiet. She stood gazing down upon him, the instinct of seeking vanished. What did it mean? Was this her soul!A man? How could it be? Even in poetry she had never read of a manbeing a woman's soul, --a man with all his frailties and sins, for themost part unrepented. She felt, rather than knew, that Estenega hadtrampled many laws, and that he cared too little for any law but hisown will to repent. And yet, there he lay, looking, in the gray lightand the impersonality of sleep, as sinless as if he had been createdwithin the hour. He looked not like a man but a spirit, --a soul; andthe soul was hers. 

Again she asked herself, what did it mean? Was the soul but brain? Sheand he were so alike in rudiments, yet he so immeasurably beyond herin experience and knowledge and the stronger fiber of a man's mind--

He awoke suddenly and saw her. For a moment he stared incredulously, then raised himself on his hand. 

"Chonita!" he whispered. 

But Chonita, with the long glide of the Californian woman, faded fromthe room. 

When she awoke the next morning she was assailed by a distressingfear. Had she been to Estenega's room the night before? The memory wastoo vivid, the details too practical, for a sleep-vagary. At breakfastshe hardly dared to raise her eyes. She felt that he was watching her;but he often watched her. After breakfast they were alone at one endof the corridor for a moment, and she compelled herself to raise hereyes and look at him steadily. He was regarding her searchingly. 

She was not a woman to endure uncertainty. 

"Tell me, " she cried, trembling from head to foot, the blood rushingover her face, "did I go to your room last night?"

"Doña Chonita!" he exclaimed. "What an extraordinary question! Youhave been dreaming. "

XXIII. 

We went to a bull-fight that day, danced that night, meriendaed anddanced again; a siesta in the afternoon, a few hours' sleep in thenight, refreshing us all. Chonita, alone, looked pale, but I knew thather pallor was not due to weariness. And I knew that she was beginningto fear Estenega; the time was almost come when she would fear herselfmore. Estenega had several talks apart with her. He managed it withoutany apparent maneuvering; but he always had the devil's methods. Valencia avenged herself by flirting desperately with Reinaldo, andPrudencia's honeymoon was seasoned with gall. 

On Saturday night Chonita stole from her guests, donned a black gownand reboso, and, attended by two Indian servants, went up to theMission to confession. As she left the church a half-hour later, andcame down the steps, Estenega rose from a bench beneath the arches ofthe corridor and joined her. 

"How did you know that I came?" she asked; and it was not the starsthat lit her face. 

"You do little that I do not know. Have you been to confession?"

"Yes. "

They walked slowly down the valley. 

"And you forgave and were forgiven?"

"Yes. Ay! but my penance is heavy!"

"But when it is done you will be at rest, I suppose. "

"Oh, I hope! I hope!"

"Have you begun to realize that your Church cannot satisfy you?"

"No! I will not say that. "

"But you know it. Your intelligence has opened a window somewhere andthe truth has crept in. "

"Do not take my religion from me, señor!" Her eyes and voice appealedto him, and he accepted her first confession of weakness with a throbof exulting tenderness. 

"My love!" he said, "I would give you more than I took from you. "

"No! never!--Even if we were not enemies, and I had not made thatterrible vow, my religion has been all in all to me. Just now I havemany things that torment me; and I have asked so little of religionbefore--my life has been so calm--that now I hardly know how to askfor so much more. I shall learn. Leave me in peace. "

"Do you want me to go?" he asked. "If you did, --if I troubled you bystaying here, --I believe I would go. Only I know it would do no good:I should come back. "

"No! no! I do not want you to go. I should feel--I will admit toyou--like a house without its foundation. And yet sometimes, I praythat you will go. Ay! I do not like life. I used to have pride in myintelligence. Where is my pride now? What good has the wisdom in mybooks done me, when I confess my dependence upon a man, and thatman my enemy--and the acquaintance of a few weeks?" She was speakingincoherently, and Estenega chafed at the restraint of the servants soclose behind them. "Tell me, " she exclaimed, "what is it in you that Iwant?--that I need? It is something that belongs to me. Give it to me, and go away. "

"Chonita, I give it to you gladly, God knows. But you must take me, too. You want in me what is akin to you and what you will find nowhereelse. But I cannot tear my soul out of my body. You must take both orneither. "

"Ay! I cannot! You know that I cannot!

"I ignore your reasons. "

"But I do not. "

"You shall, my beloved. Or if you do not ignore you shall forgetthem. "

"When I am dead--would that I were!" She was excited and trembling. The confession had been an ordeal, and Estenega was nevertranquillizing. She wished to cling to him, but was still mistressof herself. He divined her impulse, and drew her arm through his andacross his breast. He opened her hand and pressed his lips to thepalm. Then he bent his face above hers. She was trembling violently;her face was wild and white. His own was ashen, and the heart beneathher arm beat rapidly. 

"I love you devotedly, " he said. "You believe that, Chonita?"

"Ah! Mother of God! do not! I cannot listen. "

"But you shall listen. Throw off your superstitions and come to me. Keep the part of your religion that is not superstition; I would bethe last to take it from you; but I will not permit its petty dogmasto stand between us. As for your traditions, you have not even theexcuse of filial duty; your father would not forbid you to become mywife. And I love you very earnestly and passionately. Just how much, Imight convey to you if we were alone. "

He was obliged to exercise great self-restraint, but there was nomistaking his seriousness. When such scientific triflers do find awoman worth loving, they are too deeply sensible of the fact not tobe stirred to their depths; and their depths are apt to be in largedisproportion to the lightness of their ordinary mood. "Come to me, "he continued. "I need you; and I will be as tender and thoughtfula husband as I will be ardent as a lover. You love me: don't blindyourself any longer. Do you picture, in a life of solitude and colddevotion to phantoms, any happiness equal to what you would find herein my arms?"

"Oh, hush! hush! You could make me do what you wished, I have no will. I feel no longer myself. What is this terrible power?"

"It is the magnetism of love; that is all. I am not exercising anydiabolical power over you. Listen: I will not trouble you any morenow. I am obliged to go to Los Angeles the day after to-morrow, and onmy way back to Monterey--in about two weeks--I shall come here again. Then we will talk together; but I warn you, I will accept only oneanswer. You are mine, and I shall have you. "

They reached Casa Grande a moment later, and she escaped from him andran to her room. But she dared not remain alone. Hastily changing herblack gown for the first her hand touched, --it happened to be vividred and made her look as white as wax, --she returned to the sala;not to dance even the square contradanza, but to stand surrounded byworshiping caballeros with curling hair tied with gay ribbons, andjewels in their laces. Valencia regarded her with a bitter jealousythat was rising from red heat to white. How dared a woman with hair ofgold wear the color of the brunette? It was a theft. It was the lastindignity. And once more she chained Reinaldo, in default of Estenega, to her side. And deep in Prudencia's heart wove a scheme of vengeance;the loom and warp had been presented unwittingly by her chivalrousfather-in-law. 

Estenega remained in the sala a few moments after Chonita'sreappearance, then left the house and wandered through the booth inthe court, where the people were dancing and singing and eating andgambling as if with the morrow an eternal Lent would come, and thencethrough the silent town to the pleasure-grounds of Casa Grande, whichlay about half a mile from the house. He had been there but a shortwhile when he heard a rustle, a light footfall; and, turning, he sawChonita, unattended, her bare neck and gold hair gleaming against thedark, her train dragging. She was advancing swiftly toward him. Hispulses bounded, and he sprang toward her, his arms outstretched; butshe waved him back. 

"Have mercy, " she said. "I am alone. I brought no one, because I havethat to tell you which no one else must hear. "

He stepped back and looked at the ground. 

"Listen, " she said. "I could not wait until to-morrow, because amoment lost might mean--might mean the ruin of your career, and yousay your envoy has not gone yet. Just now--I will tell you the otherfirst. Mother of God! that I should betray my brother to my enemy! Butit seems to me right, because you placed your confidence in me, andI should feel that I betrayed you if I did not warn you. I do notknow--oh, Mary!--I do not know--but this seems to me right. The othernight my brother came to me and asked me--ay! do not look at me--tomarry you, that you would balk his ambition no further. He wishes togo as diputado to Mexico, and he knows that you will not let him. Ithought my brain would crack, --an Iturbi y Moncada!--I made him noanswer, --there was no answer to a demand like that, --and he went fromme in a fury, vowing vengeance upon you. To-night, a few momentsago, he whispered to me that he knew of your plans, your intentionsregarding the Americans: he had overheard a conversation between youand Alvarado. He says that he will send letters to Mexico to-morrow, warning the government against you. Then their suspicions will beroused, and they will inquire--Ay, Mary!"

Estenega brought his teeth together. "God!" he exclaimed. 

She saw that he had forgotten her. She turned and went back moreswiftly than she had come. 

Estenega was a man whose resources never failed him. He returned tothe house and asked Reinaldo to smoke a cigarito and drink a bottle ofwine in his room. Then, without a promise or a compromising word, heso flattered that shallow youth, so allured his ambition and pamperedhis vanity and watered his hopes, that fear and hatred wondered attheir existence, closed their eyes, and went to sleep. Reinaldopoured forth his aspirations, which under the influence of thetruth-provoking vine proved to be an honest yearning for the pleasuresof Mexico. As he rose to go he threw his arm about Estenega's neck. 

"Ay! my friend! my friend!" he cried, "thou art all-powerful. Thoualone canst give me what I want. "

"Why did you never ask me for what you wanted?" asked Estenega. Andhe thought, "If it were not for Her, you would be on your way to LosAngeles to-night under charge of high treason. I would not have takenthis much trouble with you. "

XXIV. 

A rodeo was held the next day, --the last of the festivities;--DonGuillermo taking advantage of the gathering of the rancheros. It wasto take place on the Cerros Rancho, which adjoined the Rancho delas Rocas. We went early, most of us dismounting and taking to theplatform on one side of the circular rodeo-ground. The vaqueroswere already galloping over the hills, shouting and screaming to thecattle, who ran to them like dogs; soon a herd came rushing down intothe circle, where they were thrown down and branded, the stray cattlebelonging to neighbors separated and corralled. This happened againand again, the interest and excitement growing with each round-up. 

Once a bull, seeing his chance, darted from his herd and down thevalley. A vaquero started after him; but Reinaldo, anxious to displayhis skill in horsemanship, and being still mounted, called to thevaquero to stop, dashed after the animal, caught it by its tail, spurred his horse ahead, let go the tail at the right moment, and, amidst shouts of "Coliar!" "Coliar!" the bull was ignominiously rolledin the dust, then meekly preceded Reinaldo back to the rodeo-ground. 

After the dinner under the trees most of the party returned to theplatform, but Estenega, Adan, Chonita, Valencia, and myself strolledabout the rancho. Adan walked at Chonita's side, more faithful thanher shadow. Valencia's black eyes flashed their language so plainly toEstenega's that he could not have deserted her without rudeness; andEstenega never was rude. 

"Adan, " said Chonita, abruptly, "I am tired of thee. Sit down underthat tree until I come back. I wish to walk alone with Eustaquia forawhile. "

Adan sighed and did as he was bidden, consoling himself with acigarito. Taking a different path from the one the others followed, wewalked some distance, talking of ordinary matters, both avoiding thesubject of Diego Estenega by common consent. And yet I was convincedthat she carried on a substratum of thought of which he was thesubject, even while she talked coherently to me. On our way back theconversation died for want of bone and muscle, and, as it happened, wewere both silent as we approached a small adobe hut. As we turned thecorner we came upon Estenega and Valencia. He had just bent his headand kissed her. 

Valencia fled like a hare. Estenega turned the hue of chalk, and Iknew that blue lightning was flashing in his disconcerted brain. Ifelt the chill of Chonita as she lifted herself to the rigidity of astatue and swept slowly down the path. 

"Diego, you are a fool!" I exclaimed, when she was out of hearing. 

"You need not tell me that, " he said, savagely. "But what in heaven'sname--Well, never mind. For God's sake straighten it out with her. Tell her--explain to her--what men are. Tell her that the presentwoman is omnipotently present--no, don't tell her that. Tell herthat history is full of instances of men who have given one woman thedevoted love of a lifetime and been unfaithful to her every week inthe year. Explain to her that a man to love one woman must love allwomen. And she has sufficient proof that I love her and no otherwoman: I want to marry her, not Valencia Menendez. Heaven knows I willbe true to her when I have her. I could not be otherwise. But I neednot explain to you. Set it right with her. She has brain, and can bemade to understand. "

I shook my head. "You cannot reason with inexperience; and when itis allied to jealousy--God of my soul! Her ideal, of course, isperfection, and does not take human weakness into account. You havefallen short of it to-day. I fear your cause is lost. "

"It is not! Do you think I will give her up for a trifle like that?"

"But why not accept this break? You cannot marry her--"

"Oh, do not refer to that nonsense!" he exclaimed, harshly. "I shallpeel off her traditions when the time comes, as I would strip off theouter hulls of a nut. Go! Go, Eustaquia!"

Of course I went. Chonita was not at the rodeo-ground, but, escortedby her father, had gone home. I followed immediately, and when Ireached Casa Grande I found her sitting in her library. I never sawa statue look more like marble. Her face was locked: only the eyesbetrayed the soul in torment. But she looked as immutable as a fate. 

"Chonita, " I exclaimed, hardly knowing where to begin, "be reasonable. Men of Estenega's brain and passionate affectionate nature are alwaysweak with women, but it means nothing. He cares nothing for ValenciaMenendez. He is madly in love with you. And his weakness, my dear, springs from the same source as his charm. He would not be the manhe is without it. His heart would be less kindly, his impulses lessgenerous, his brain less virile, his sympathies less instinctive andtrue. The strong impregnable man, the man whom no vice tempts, noweakness assails, who is loyal without effort, --such a man lacksbreadth and magnetism and the power to read the human heart andsympathize with both its noble impulses and its terrible weaknesses. Such men--I never have known it to fail--are full of petty vanitiesand egoisms and contemptible weaknesses, the like of which Estenegacould not be capable of. No man can be perfect, and it is the manof great strength and great weakness who alone understands andsympathizes with human nature, who is lovable and magnetic, and whohas the power to rouse the highest as well as the most passionate loveof a woman. Such men cause infinite suffering, but they can give ahappiness that makes the suffering worth while. You never will meetanother man like Diego Estenega. Do not cast him lightly aside. "

"Do I understand, " said Chonita, in a perfectly unmoved voice, "thatyou are counseling me to marry an Estenega and the man who would sendme to Hell hereafter? Do you forget my vow?"

I came to myself with a shock. In the enthusiasm of my defense I hadforgotten the situation. 

"At least forgive him, " I said, lamely. 

"I have nothing to forgive, " she said. "He is nothing to me. "

I knew that it was useless to argue with her. 

"I have a favor to ask of you, " she said. "Most of our guests leavethis afternoon: will you let me sleep alone to-night?"

I should have liked to put my arm about her and give her a woman'ssympathy, but I did not dare. All I could do was to leave her alone. 

XXV. 

Casa Grande held three jealous women. The situation had its comicaspect, but was tragic enough to the actors. 

In the evening the lingering guests of the house and the neighborsof the town assembled as usual for the dance. Only Estenega absentedhimself. Valencia stood her ground: she would not go while Estenegaremained. Chonita moved proudly among her guests, and never had beenmore gracious. Valencia dared not meet her eyes nor mine, but, seeingthat Prudencia was watching her, avenged her own disquiet by enhancingthat of the bride. Never did she flirt so imperiously with Reinaldoas she did that fateful night; and Reinaldo, who was man's vanitycollected and compounded, devoted himself to the dashing beauty. Hercheeks burned with excitement, her eyes were restless and flashing. 

The music stopped. The women were eating the dulces passed by theIndian servants. The men had not yet gone into the dining-room. Valencia dropped her handkerchief; Reinaldo, stooping to recover it, kissed her hand behind its flimsy shelter. 

Then Prudencia arose. She trailed her long gown down the room betweenthe two rows of people staring at her grim eyes and pressed lips; herlittle head, with its high comb, stiffly erect. She walked straight upto Reinaldo and boxed his ears before the assembled company. 

"Thou wilt flirt no more with other women, " she said, in a loud, clearvoice. "Thou art my husband, and thou wilt not forget it again. Comewith me. "

And, amidst the silence of mountain-tops in a snow-storm, he stumbledto his feet and followed her from the room. 

I could not sleep that night. In spite of the amusement I had felt atPrudencia's _coup-d'état_, I was oppressed by the chill and forebodingwhich seemed to emanate from Chonita and pervade the house. I knewthat terrible calm was like the menacing stillness of the hours beforean earthquake. What would she do in the coming convulsion? I shudderedand tormented myself with many imaginings. 

I became so nervous that I rose and dressed and went out upon thecorridor and walked up and down. It was very late, and the moon wasrisen, but the corners were dark. Figures seemed to start from them, but my nerves were strong; I never had given way to fear. 

My thoughts wandered to Estenega. Who shall judge the complex heartof a man? the deep, intense, lasting devotion he may have for the onewoman he recognizes as his soul's own, and yet the strange waywardwanderings of his fancy, --the nomadic assertion of the animal; thepassionate love he may feel for this woman of all women, yet thereserve in which he always holds her, never knowing her quite as wellas he has known other women; the last test of highest love, passionwithout sensuality? And yet the regret that she does not gratify everyside of his nature, even while he would not have her; regret for theterrible incongruity of human nature, the mingling of the beast andthe divine, which cannot find satisfaction in the same woman; whateverthe fire in her, she cannot gratify the instincts which rage belowpassion in man, without losing the purity of mind which he adores inher. She, too, feels a vague regret that some portion of his natureis a sealed book to her, forever beyond her ken. But her regret isnothing to his: he knows, and she does not. 

My meditations were interrupted suddenly. I heard a door stealthilyopened. I knew before turning that the door was that of Chonita'sroom, the last at the end of the right wing. It opened, and she cameout. It was as if a face alone came out. She was shrouded from head tofoot in black, and her face was as white as the moon. Possessed by anameless but overwhelming fear, I turned the knob of the door nearestme and almost fell into the room. I closed the door behind me, butthere was no key. By the strip of white light which entered throughthe crevice between the half-open shutters I saw that I was in theroom of Valencia Menendez; but she slept soundly and had not heard me. 

I stood still, listening, for many minutes. At first there was nosound; I evidently had startled her, and she was waiting for the houseto be still again. At last I heard some one gliding down the corridor. Then, suddenly, I knew that she was coming to this room, and, possessed by a horrible curiosity and growing terror, I sank on myknees in a corner. 

The door opened noiselessly, and Chonita entered. Again I saw onlyher white face, rigid as death, but the eyes flamed with the terriblepassions that her soul had flung up from its depths at last. Then Isaw another white object, --her hand. But there was no knife in it. Had there been, I think I should have shaken off the spell whichcontrolled me: I never would see murder done. It was the awe of theunknown that paralyzed my muscles. She bent over Valencia, who moveduneasily and cast her arms above her head. I saw her touch her fingerto the sleeping woman's mouth, inserting it between the lips. Then shemoved backward and stood by the head of the bed, facing thewindow. She raised herself to her full height and extended her armshorizontally. The position gave her the form of a cross--a blackcross, topped and pointed with malevolent white; one hand was spreadabove Valencia's face. She was the most awful sight I ever beheld. Sheuttered no sound; she scarcely breathed. Suddenly, with the curve of apanther, her figure glided above the unconscious woman, her open handdescribing a strange motion; then she melted from the room. 

Valencia awoke, shrieking. 

"Some one has cursed me!" she cried. "Mother of God! Some one hascursed me!"

I fled from the room, to faint upon my own bed. 

XXVI. 

The next morning Casa Grande was thrown into consternation. ValenciaMenendez was in a raging fever, and had to be held in her bed. 

After breakfast I sent for Estenega and told him of what I had seen. In the first place I had to tell some one, and in the second I thoughtto end his infatuation and avert further trouble. "You firebrand!" Iexclaimed, in conclusion. "You see the mischief you have worked! Youwill go, now, thank heaven--and go cured. "

"I will go, --for a time, " he said. "This mood of hers must wearitself out. But, if I loved her before, I worship her now. She ismagnificent!--a woman with the passions of hell and the sweetness ofan angel. She is the woman I have waited for all my life, --the onlywoman I have ever known. Some day I will take her in my arms and tellher that I understand her. "

"Diego, " I said, divided between despair and curiosity, "you havefancied many women: wherein does your feeling for Chonita differ? Howcan you be sure that this is love? What is your idea of love?"

He sat down and was silent for a moment, then spoke thoughtfully:"Love is not passion, for one may feel that for many women; notaffection, for friendship demands that. Not even sympathy andcomradeship; one can find either with men. Nor all, for I have feltall, yet something was lacking. Love is the mysterious turning of oneheart to another with the promise of a magnetic harmony, a strangeoriginal delight, a deep satisfaction, a surety of permanence, whichdid either heart roam the world it never would find again. It is theknowledge that did the living body turn to corruption, the spiritwithin would still hold and sway the steel which had rushed unerringlyto its magnet. It is the knowledge that weakness will only arousetenderness, never disgust, as when the fancy reigns and the heartsleeps; that faults will clothe themselves in the individuality of theowner and become treasures to the loving mind that sees, but worships. It is the development of the highest form of selfishness, thepassionate and abiding desire to sacrifice one's self to the happinessof one beloved. Above all, it is the impossibility to cease to love, no matter what reason, or prudence, or jealousy, or disapproval, orterrible discoveries, may dictate. Let the mind sit on high and arguethe soul's mate out of doors, it will rebound, when all is said anddone, like a rubber ball when the pressure of the finger is removed. As for Chonita she is the lost part of me. "

He left that day, and without seeing Chonita again. Valencia was inwildest delirium for a week; at the end of the second every hair onher head, her brows, and her eyelashes had fallen. She looked like awhite mummy, a ghastly pitiful caricature of the beautiful woman whosearrows quivered in so many hearts. They rolled her in a blanket andtook her home; and then I sought Chonita, who had barely left herroom and never gone to Valencia's. I told her that I had witnessed thecurse, and described the result. 

"Have you no remorse?" I asked. 

"None. "

"You have ruined the beauty, the happiness, the fortune, of anotherwoman. "

"I have done what I intended. "

"Do you realize that again you have raised a barrier between yourselfand your religion? You do not look very repentant. "

"Revenge is sweeter than religion. "

Then in a burst of anger I confessed that I had told Estenega. For amoment I thought her terrible hatred was about to hurl its vengeanceat me; but she only asked, --

"What did he say?"

Unwillingly, I repeated it, but word for word. And as I spoke, herface softened, the austerity left her features, an expression ofpassionate gratitude came into her eyes. 

"Did he say that, Eustaquia?"

"He did. "

"Say it again, please. "

I did so. And then she put her hands to her face, and cried, andcried, and cried. 

XXVII. 

At the end of the week Doña Trinidad died suddenly. She was sitting onthe green bench, dispensing charities, when her head fell back gently, and the light went out. No death ever had been more peaceful, no soulever had been better prepared; but wailing grief went after her. PoorDon Guillermo sank in a heap as if some one had felled him, Reinaldowept loudly, and Prudencia was not to be consoled. Chonita was awayon her horse when it happened, galloping over the hills. Servants weresent for her immediately, and met her when she was within an hour ortwo of home. As she entered the sala, Don Guillermo, Reinaldo, andPrudencia literally flung themselves upon her; and she stood like arock, and supported them. She had loved her mother, but it had alwaysbeen her lot to prop other people; she never had had a chance to lean. 

All that night and next day she was closely engaged with the membersof the agonized household, even visiting the grief-stricken Indians attimes. On the second night she went to the room where her motherlay with all the pomp of candles and crosses, and bade the Indianwatchers, crouching like buzzards about the corpse, to go for a time. She sank into a chair beside the dead, and wondered at the calmness ofher heart. She was not conscious of any feeling stronger than regret. She tried to realize the irrevocableness of death, --that the motherwho had been so kindly an influence in her life had gone out of it. But the knowledge brought no grief. She felt only the necessity foralleviating the grief of the others; that was her part. 

The door opened. She drew her breath suddenly. She knew that itwas Estenega. He sat down beside her and took her hand and held it, without a word, for hours. Gradually she leaned toward him, althoughwithout touching him. And after a time tears came. 

He went his way the next morning, but he wrote to her before he left, and again from Monterey, and then from the North. She only answeredonce, and then with only a line. 

But the line was this:

"Write to me until you have forgotten me. "

One day she brought me a package and asked me to take it to Valencia. "It is an ointment, " she said, --"one of old Brigida's" (a witch wholived on the cliffs and concocted wondrous specifics from herbs). "Tell her to use it and her hair will grow again. "

And that was the only sign of penitence I was permitted to see. 

Then for a long interval there came no word from Estenega. 

XXVIII. 

Before going to Mexico, Estenega remained for some weeks at hisranchos in the North, overlooking the slaughtering of his cattle, animportant yearly event, for the trade in hides and tallow with foreignshippers was the chief source of the Californian's income. He also wasassociated with the Russians at Fort Ross and Bodega in the fur-trade. But he was far from being satisfied with these desultory gains. Theysufficed his private wants, but with the great schemes he had in mindhe needed gold by the bushel. How to obtain it was a problem which saton the throne of his mind side by side with Chonita Iturbi y Moncada. He had reason to believe that gold lay under California; but where? Hedetermined that upon his return from Mexico he would take measuresto discover, although he objected to the methods which alone could beemployed. But, like all born rulers of men, he had an impatient scornfor means with a great end in view. There was no intermediate way ofmaking the money. It would be a hundred years before the country wouldbe populous enough to give his vast ranchos a reasonable value; and, although he had twenty thousand head of cattle, the market for theirdisposal was limited, and barter was the principle of trade, ratherthan coin. 

Toward the end of the month he hurried to Monterey to catch a barkabout to sail for Mexico. The important preliminaries of the futurehe had planned could no longer be delayed; the treacherous revengefulnature of Reinaldo might at any moment awake from the spell in whichhe had locked it; had a ship sailed before, he would have left hiscommercial interests with his mayor-domo and gone to the seat ofgovernment at once. 

He arrived in Monterey one evening after hard riding. The city wassingularly quiet. It was the hour when the indefatigable dancers ofthat gay town should have flitted past the open windows of the salas, when the air should have been vocal with the flute and guitar, songand light laughter. But the city might have been a living tomb. Thewhite rayless houses were heavy and silent as sepulchers. He rodeslowly down Alvarado Street, and saw the advancing glow of a cigar. When the cigar was abreast of him he recognized Mr. Larkin. 

"What is the matter?" he asked. 

"Small-pox, " replied the consul, succinctly. "Better get on boardat once. And steer clear of the lower quarter. Your vaqueroarrived yesterday, and I instructed him to put your baggage in thecustom-house. He dropped it and fled to the country. "

Estenega thanked him and proceeded on his way. He made a circuit toavoid the lower quarter, but saw that it was not abandoned; lightsmoved here and there. "Poor creatures!" he thought, "they are probablydying like poisoned rats. "

On the side of the hill by the road was a solitary hut. He was obligedto pass it. A candle burned beyond the open window, and he set hislips and turned his head; not from fear of contagion, however. And hiseyes were drawn to the window in spite of his resolute will. He lookedonce, and looked again, then checked his horse. On the bed lay agirl in the middle stages of the disease, her eyes glittering withdelirium, her black hair matted and wet. She was evidently alone. Estenega spurred his horse and galloped around to the back of the hut. In the kitchen, the only other room, huddled an old crone, brown andgnarled like an old apple. She was sleeping; by her side was a bottleof aguardiente. Estenega called loudly to her. 

"Susana!"

The creature stirred, but did not open her eyes. He called twiceagain, and awakened her. She stared through the open door, her lowerjaw falling, showing the yellow stumps. 

"Who is?"

"Is Anita alone with you?"

"Ay, yi! Don Diego! Yes, yes. All run from the house like rats froma ship that burns. Ay, yi! Ay, yi! and she so pretty before! A-y, y-i!--" Her head fell forward; she relapsed into stupor. 

Estenega rode around to the window again. The girl was sitting on theedge of the bed, mechanically pulling the long matted strands of herhair. 

"Water! water!" she cried, faintly. "Ay, Mary!" She strove to rise, but fell back, clutching at the bedclothing. 

Estenega rode to a deserted hut near by, concealed his saddle ina corner under a heap of rubbish, and turned his horse loose. Hereturned to the hut where the sick girl lay, and entered the room. Sherecognized him in spite of her fever. 

"Don Diego! Is it you?--you?" she said, half raising herself. "Ay, Mary! is it the delirium?"

"It is I, " he said. "I will take care of you. Do you want water?"

"Ay, water. Ay, thou wert always kind, even though thy love did lastso little a while. "

He brought the water and did what he could to relieve her sufferings:like all the rancheros, he had some knowledge of medicine. He held theold crone under the pump, gave her an emetic, broke her bottle, andordered her to help him care for the girl. Between awe of him andpromise of gold, she gave him some assistance. 

Estenega watched the vessel sail the next morning, and battled withthe impulse to leap from the window, hire a boat, and overtake it. Thedelay of a month might mean the death of his hopes. For all he knew, the bark carried the letters of his undoing; Reinaldo himself mightbe on it. He set his lips with an expression of bitter contempt--theexpression directed at his own impotence in the hands ofCircumstance, --and went to the bedside of the girl. She was hopelesslyill; even medical skill, were there such a thing in the country, couldnot save her; but he could not leave to die like a dog a woman who hadbeen his mistress, even if only the fancy of a week, as this poorgirl had been. She had loved him, and never annoyed him; they hadmaintained friendly relations, and he had helped her whenever she hadappealed to him. But in this hour of her extremity she had furtherrights, and he recognized them. He had cut her hair close to her head, and she looked more comfortable, although an unpleasant sight. As heregarded her, he thought of Chonita, and the tide of love rose in himas it had not before. In the beginning he had been hardly more thaninfatuated with her originality and her curious beauty; at SantaBarbara her sweetness and kinship had stolen into him and themomentous fusion of passion and spiritual love had given new birthto a torpid soul and stirred and shaken his manhood as lust hadnever done; now in her absence and exaltation above common mortals hereverenced her as an ideal. Even in the bitterness of the knowledgethat months must elapse before he could see her again, the tendernessshe had drawn to herself from the serious depths of his naturethrobbed throughout him, and made him more than gentle to the poorcreature whose ignorance could not have comprehended the least of whathe felt for Chonita. 

She died within three days. The good priest, who stood to his post andmade each of his afflicted poor a brief daily visit, prayed by heras she fell into stupor, but she was incapable of receiving extremeunction. Estenega was alone with her when she died, but the priestreturned a few moments later. 

"Don Thomas Larkin wishes me to say to you, Don Diego Estenega, " saidthe Father, "that he would be glad to have you stay with him until thenext vessel arrives. As two members of his family have the disease, hehas nothing to fear from you. I will care for the body. "

Estenega handed him money for the burial, and looked at himspeculatively. The priest must have heard the girl's confessions, andhe wondered why he did not improve the opportunity to reprove a manwhose indifference to the Church was a matter of indignant commentamong the clergy. The priest appeared to divine his thoughts, for hesaid:

"Thou hast done more than thy duty, Don Diego. And to the frailties ofmen I think the good God is merciful. He made them. Go in peace. "

Estenega accepted Mr. Larkin's invitation, but, in spite of the genialsociety of the consul, he spent in his house the most wretched threeweeks of his life. He dared not leave Monterey until he had passed thetime of incubation, having no desire to spread the disease; he darednot write to Chonita, for the same reason. What must she think? Shesupposed him to have sailed, of course, but he had promised to writeher from Monterey, and again from San Diego. And the uncertaintyregarding his Mexican affairs was intolerable to a man of his activemind and supertense nervous system. His only comfort lay in Mr. Larkin's assurance that the national bark Joven Guipuzcoana was duewithin the month and would return at once. Early in the fourth weekthe assurance was fulfilled, and by the time he was ready to sailagain his danger from contagion was over. But he embarked withoutwriting to Chonita. 

The voyage lasted a month, tedious and monotonous, more trying thanhis retardation on land, for there at least he could recover someserenity by violent exercise. He divided his time between pacingthe deck, when the weather permitted, and writing to Chonita: long, intimate, possessing letters, which would reveal her to herself asnothing else, short of his own dominant contact, could do. At San Blashe posted his letters and welcomed the rough journey overland to thecapital; but under a calm exterior he was possessed of the spirit ofdisquiet. As so often happens, however, his fears proved to have beenvagaries of a morbid state of mind and of that habit of thought whichwould associate with every cause an effect of similar magnitude. SantaAna welcomed him with friendly enthusiasm, and was ready to listen tohis plans. That wily and astute politician, who was always abreast ofprogress and never in its lead, recognized in Estenega the coming man, and, knowing that the seizure of the Californias by the United Stateswas only a question of time, was keenly willing to make an ally ofthe man who he foresaw would control them as long as he chose, bothat home and in Washington. For the matter of that, he recognizedthe impotence of Mexico to interfere, beyond bluster, with plans anyresolute Californian might choose to pursue; but it was important toEstenega's purpose that the governorship should be assured to him bythe central government, and the eyes of the Mexican Congress directedelsewhere. He knew the value of the moral effect which its apparentsanction would have upon rebellious Southerners. 

"I am at your service, " said Santa Ana; "and the governorship isyours. But take heed that no rumor of your ultimate intentions reachesthe ears of Congress until you are firmly established. If it opposedyou relentlessly--and it keeps its teeth on California like a dog ona bone bigger than himself--I should have to yield; I have too muchat stake myself. I will look out that any communications from enemies, including Iturbi y Moncada, are opened first by me. "

Estenega wrote to Chonita again by the ship that left during his briefstay in the capital, and it was his intention to go directly toSanta Barbara upon arriving in California. But when he landed inMonterey--disinfected and careless as of old--he learned that she wasabout to start, perhaps already had done so, for Fort Ross, to pay avisit to the Rotscheffs. The news gave him pleasure; it had been hiswish to say what he had yet to say in his own forests. 

And then the plan which had been stirring restlessly in his mind formany months took imperative shape: he determined that if there wasgold in California he would wring the secret out of its keeper, bygentle means or violent, and that within the next twenty-four hours. 

XXIX. 

Estenega drew rein the next night before the neglected Mission of SanRafael. The valley, surrounded by hills dark with the silentredwoods, bore not a trace of the populous life of the days beforesecularization. The padre lived alone, lodge-keeper of a valley ofshadows. 

He opened the door of his room on the corridor as he heard theapproach of the traveler, squinting his bleared, yellow-spotted eyes. He was surly by nature, but he bowed low to the man whose power was sogreat in California, and whose generosity had sent him many a bullock. He cooked him supper from his frugal store, piled the logs in the openfireplace, --November was come, --and, after a bottle of wine, producedfrom Estenega's saddle-bag, expanded into a hermit's imitation ofconviviality. Late in the night they still sat on either side of thetable in the dusty, desolate room. The Forgotten had been entertainedwith vivid and shifting pictures of the great capital in which he hadpassed his boyhood. He smiled occasionally; now and again he gave aquick impatient sigh. Suddenly Estenega leaned forward and fixed himwith his powerful gaze. 

"Is there gold in these mountains?" he asked, abruptly. 

The priest was thrown off his guard for a moment; a look of meaningflashed into his eyes, then one of cunning displaced it. 

"It may be, Señor Don Diego; gold is often in the earth. But had I theunholy knowledge, I would lock it in my breast. Gold is the canker inthe heart of the world. It is not for the Church to scatter the evilbroadcast. "

Estenega shut his teeth. Fanaticism was a more powerful combatant thanavarice. 

"True, my father. But think of the good that gold has wrought. Couldthese Missions have been built without gold?--these thousands ofIndians Christianized?"

"What you say is not untrue; but for one good, ten thousand evilsare wrought with the metal which the devil mixed in hell and pouredthrough the veins of the earth. "

Estenega spent a half-hour representing in concrete and forcibleimages the debt which civilization owed to the fact and circulationof gold. The priest replied that California was a proof that commercecould exist by barter; the money in the country was not worth speakingof. 

"And no progress to speak of in a hundred years, " retorted Estenega. Then he expatiated upon the unique future of California did she havegold to develop her wonderful resources. The priest said that to cutCalifornia from her Arcadian simplicity would be to start her on herjourney to the devil along with the corrupt nations of the OldWorld. Estenega demonstrated that if there was vice in the oldercivilizations there was also a higher state of mental development, andthat Religion held her own. He might as well have addressed the wallsof the Mission. He tempted with the bait of one of the more centralMissions. The priest had only the dust of ambition in the cellar ofhis brain. 

He lost his patience at last. "I must have gold, " he said, shortly;"and you shall show me where to find it. You once betrayed to myfather that you knew of its existence in these hills; and you shallgive me the key. "

The priest looked into the eyes of steel and contemptuously determinedface before him, and shut his lips. He was alone with a desperate man;he had not even a servant; he could be murdered, and his murderergo unsuspected; but the heart of the fanatic was in him. He made noreply. 

"You know me, " said Estenega. "I owe half my power in California tothe fact that I do not make a threat to-day and forget it to-morrow. You will show me where that gold is, or I shall kill you. "

"The servant of God dies when his hour comes. If I am to die by thehand of the assassin, so be it. "

Estenega leaned forward and placed his strong hand about the priest'sbaggy throat, pushing the table against his chest. He pressed histhumb against the throttle, his second finger hard against thejugular, and the tongue rolled over the teeth, the congested eyesbulged. "It may be that you scorn death, but may not fancy the modeof it. I have no desire to kill you. Alive or dead, your life is of nomore value than that of a worm. But you shall die, and die with muchdiscomfort, unless you do as I wish. " His hand relaxed its grasp, butstill pressed the rough dirty throat. 

"Accursed heretic!" said the priest. 

"Spare your curses for the superstitious. "

He saw a gleam of cunning come into the priest's eyes. "Very well; ifI must I must. Let me rise, and I will conduct you. "

Estenega took a piece of rope from his saddle-bag and tied it aboutthe priest's waist and his own. "If you have any holy pitfall in viewfor me, I shall have the pleasure of your company. And if I am ledinto labyrinths to die of starvation, you at least will have a meal: Icould not eat you. "

If the priest was disconcerted, he did not show it. He took a lanternfrom a shelf, lit the fragment of candle, and, opening a door at theback, walked through the long line of inner rooms. All were heapedwith rubbish. In one he found a trap-door with his foot, and descendedrough steps cut out of the earth. The air rose chill and damp, andEstenega knew that the tunnel of the Mission was below, the secretexit to the hills which the early Fathers built as a last resource incase of defeat by savage tribes. When they reached the bottom of thesteps the tallow dip illuminated but a narrow circle; Estenega couldform no idea of the workmanship of the tunnel, except that it was notmore than six feet and a few inches high, for his hat brushed the top, and that the floor and sides appeared to be of pressed clay. There wasventilation somewhere, but no light. They walked a mile or more, and then Estenega had a sense of stepping into a wider and higherexcavation. 

"We are no longer in the tunnel, " said the priest. He lifted thelantern and swung it above his head. Estenega saw that they were in acircular room, hollowed probably out of the heart of a hill. He alsosaw something else. 

"What is that?" he exclaimed, sharply. 

The priest handed him the lantern. "Look for yourself, " he said. 

Estenega took the lantern, and, holding it just above his head andclose to the walls, slowly traversed the room. It was belted withthree strata of crystal-like quartz, sown thick with glittering yellowspecks and chunks. Each stratum was about three feet wide. 

"There is a fortune here, " he said. He felt none of the greed of gold, merely a recognition of its power. 

"Yes, señor; enough to pay the debt of a nation. "

"Where are we? Under what hill? I am sorry I had not a compass withme. It was impossible to make any accurate guess of direction in thatslanting tunnel. Where is the outlet?"

The priest made no reply. 

Estenega turned to him peremptorily. "Answer me. How can I find thisplace from without?"

"You never will find it from without. When the danger from Indians wasover, a pious Father closed the opening. This gold is not for you. Youcould not find even the trap-door by yourself. "

"Then why have you brought me here?"

"To tantalize you. To punish you for your insult to the Church throughme. Kill me now, if you wish. Better death than hell. "

Estenega made a rapid circuit of the room. There was no mode ofegress other than that by which they had entered, and no sign of anypreviously existing. He sprang upon the priest and shook him untilthe worn stumps rattled in their gums. "You dog!" he said, "to balkme with your ignorant superstition! Take me out of this place by itsother entrance at once, that I may remain on the hill until morning. I would not trust your word. You shall tell me, if I have to tortureyou. "

The priest made a sudden spring and closed with Estenega, hugginghim like a bear. The lantern fell and went out. The two men stumbledblindly in the blackness, striking the walls, wrestling desperately, the priest using his teeth and panting like a beast. But he was nomatch for the virility and science of his young opponent. Estenegathrew him in a moment and bound him with the rope. Then he found thelantern and lit the candle again. He returned to the priest and stoodover him. The latter was conquered physically, but the dogged lightof bigotry still burned in his eyes, although Estenega's were notagreeable to face. 

Estenega was furious. He had twisted Santa Ana, one of the most subtleand self-seeking men of his time, around his finger as if he hadbeen a yard of ribbon; Alvarado, the wisest man ever born in theCalifornias, was swayed by his judgment; yet all the arts of which hisintellect was master fell blunt and useless before this clay-brainedpriest. He had more respect for the dogs in his kennels, but unlesshe resorted to extreme measures the creature would defeat him throughsheer brute ignorance. Estenega was not a man to stop in sight ofvictory or to give his sword to an enemy he despised. 

"You are at my mercy. You realize that now, I suppose. Will you showme the other way out?"

The priest drew down his under-lip like a snarling dog, revealing thediscolored stumps. But he made no other reply. 

Estenega lit a match, and, kneeling beside the priest, held it to hisstubbled beard. As the flame licked the flesh the man uttered a yelllike a kicked brute. Estenega sprang to his feet with an oath. "Ican't do it!" he exclaimed, with bitter disgust. "I haven't the ironof cruelty in me. I am not fit to be a ruler of men. " He untied therope about the prisoner's feet. "Get up, " he said, "and conduct meback as we came. " The priest scrambled to his feet and hobbled downthe long tunnel. They ascended the steps beneath the Mission andemerged into the room. Estenega turned swiftly to prevent the closingof the trap-door, but only in time to hear it shut with a spring andthe priest kick rubbish above it. 

He cut the rope which bound the other's hands. "Go, " he said, "I haveno further use for you. And if you report this, I need not explain toyou that it will fare worse with you than it will with me. "

The priest fled, and Estenega, hanging the lantern on a nail, pushedaside the rubbish with his feet, purposing to pace the room untildawn. In a few moments, however, he discovered that the despisedhermit was not without his allies; ten thousand fleas, the pest of thecountry, assaulted every portion of his body they could reach. Theyswarmed down the legs of his riding-boots, up his trousers, up hissleeves, down his neck. "There is no such thing in life as tragedy, "he thought. He hung the lantern outside the door to mark the room, andpaced the yard until morning. But there were dark hours yet before thedawn, and during one of them a figure, when his back was turned, crept to the lantern and hung it before an adjoining room. When lightcame, --and the fog came first, --all Estenega's efforts to find thetrap-door were unavailing, although the yard was littered with therubbish he flung into it from the room. He suspected the trick, butthere were ten rooms exactly alike, and although he cleared most ofthem he could discover no trace of the trap-door. He looked at thehills surrounding the Mission. They were many, and beyond there wereothers. He mounted his horse and rode around the buildings, listeningcarefully for hollow reverberation. The tunnel was too far below; heheard nothing. 

He was defeated. For the first time in his life he was withoutresource, overwhelmed by a force stronger than his own will; and hisspirit was savage within him. He had no authority to dig the floorsof the Mission, for the Mission and several acres about it werethe property of the Church. The priest never would take him on thatunderground journey again, for he had learned the weak spot in hisarmor, nor had he fear of death. Unless accident favored him, or someone more fortunate, the golden heart of the San Rafael hill wouldpulse unrifled forever. 

XXX. 

He turned his back upon the Mission and rode toward his home, sixtymiles in a howling November wind. At Bodega Bay he learned thatGovernor Rotscheff had passed there two days before with a party ofguests that he had gone down to Sausalito to meet. Chonita awaitedhim in the North. A softer mood pressed through the somberness of hisspirit, and the candle of hope burned again. Gold must exist elsewherein California, and he swore anew that it should yield itself to him. The last miles of his ride lay along the cliffs. Sometimes the steephills covered with redwoods rose so abruptly from the trail that theundergrowth brushed him as he passed; on the other side but a fewinches stood between himself and death amidst the surf pounding on therocks a thousand feet below. The sea-gulls screamed about his head, the sea-lions barked with the hollow note of consumptives on theoutlying rocks. On the horizon was a bank of fog, outlined with thecrests and slopes and gulches of the mountain beside him. It sent anadvance wrack scudding gracefully across the ocean to puff among theredwoods, capriciously clinging to some, ignoring others. Then camethe vast white mountain rushing over the roaring ocean, up the cliffsand into the gloomy forests, blotting the lonely horseman from sight. 

He arrived at his house--a big structure of logs--late in the night. His servants came out to meet him, and in a moment a fire leaped inthe great fireplace in his library. He lived alone; his parents andbrothers were dead, and his sisters married; but the fire made the lowlong room, covered with bear-skins and lined with books, as cheerfulas a bachelor could expect. He found a note from the Princess HélèneRotscheff, the famous wife of the governor, asking him to spend thefollowing week at Fort Ross; but he was so tired that even the imageof Chonita was dim; the note barely caused a throb of anticipation. After supper he flung himself on a couch before the fire and sleptuntil morning, then went to bed and slept until afternoon. By thattime he was himself again. He sent a vaquero ahead with his eveningclothes, and an hour or two later started for Fort Ross, spurring hishorse with a lighter heart over the cliffs. His ranchos adjoinedthe Russian settlement; the journey from his house to the militaryenclosure was not a long one. He soon rounded the point of a slopinghill and entered the spreading core formed by the mountains recedingin a semicircle above the cliffs, and in whose shelter lay Fort Ross. The fort was surrounded by a stockade of redwood beams, bastions inthe shape of hexagonal towers at diagonal corners. Cannon, mounted oncarriages, were at each of the four entrances, in the middle of theenclosure, and in the bastions. Sentries paced the ramparts withunremitting vigilance. 

Within were the long low buildings occupied by the governor andofficers, the barracks, and the Russian church, with its belfry andcupola. Beyond was the "town, " a collection of huts accommodatingabout eight hundred Indians and Siberian convicts, the workingmen ofthe company. All the buildings were of redwood logs or planed boards, and made a very different picture from the white towns of the South. The curving mountains were sombrous with redwoods, the ocean growledunceasingly. 

Estenega threw his bridle to a soldier and went directly to the house. A servant met him on the veranda and conducted him to his room; itwas late, and every one else was dressing for dinner. He changed hisriding-clothes for the evening dress of modern civilization, and wentat once to the drawing-room. Here all was luxury, nothing to suggestthe privations of a new country. A thick red carpet covered the floor, red arras the walls; the music of Mozart and Beethoven was on thegrand piano. The furniture was rich and comfortable, the large carvedtable was covered with French novels and European periodicals. 

The candles had not been brought in, but logs blazed in the openfireplace. As Estenega crossed the room, a woman, dressed in black, rose from a deep chair, and he recognized Chonita. He sprang forwardimpetuously and held out his arms, but she waved him back. 

"No, no, " she said, hurriedly. "I want to explain why I am here. Icame for two reasons. First, I could refuse the Princess Hélène nolonger; she goes so soon. And then--I wanted to see you once morebefore I leave the world. "

"Before you do what?"

"I am not going into a convent; I cannot leave my father. I am goingto retire to the most secluded of our ranchos, to see no more of theworld or its people. I shall take my father with me. Reinaldo andPrudencia will remain at Casa Grande. "

"Nonsense!" he exclaimed, impatiently. "Do you suppose I shall let youdo anything of the sort? How little you know me, my love! But we willdiscuss that question later. We shall be alone only a few moments now. Tell me of yourself. How are you?"

"I will tell you that, also, at another time. "

And at the moment a door opened, and the governor and his wife enteredand greeted Estenega with cordial hospitality. The governor wasa fine-looking Russian, with a spontaneous warmth of manner; theprincess a woman who possessed both elegance and vivacity, bothcoquetry and dignity; she could sparkle and chill, allure and suppressin the same moment. Even here, rough and wild as her surroundingswere, she gave much thought to her dress; to-night her blondeharmonious loveliness was properly framed in a toilette of mignonettegreens, fresh from Paris. A moment later Reinaldo and Prudenciaappeared, the former as splendid a caballero as ever, althoughwearing the chastened air of matrimony, the latter pre-maternallyconsequential. Then came the officers and their wives, all brilliantin evening dress; and a moment later dinner was announced. 

Estenega sat at the right of his hostess, and that trained daughter ofthe salon kept the table in a light ripple of conversation, sparklingherself, without striking terror to the hearts of her guests. She andEstenega were old friends, and usually indulged in lively sallies, ending some times in a sharp war of words, for she was a very cleverwoman; but to-night he gave her absent attention: he watched Chonitafurtively, and thought of little else. 

Her eyes had darker shadows beneath them than those cast by herlashes; her face was pale and slightly hollowed. She had suffered, andnot for her mother. "She shall suffer no more, " he thought. 

"We hunt bear to-night, " he heard the governor say at length. 

"I should like to go, " said Chonita, quickly. "I should like to go outto-night. "

Immediately there was a chorus from all the Other women, excepting thePrincess Hélène and Prudencia; they wanted to go too. Rotscheff, whowould much rather have left them at home, consented with good grace, and Estenega's spirits rose at once. He would have a talk with Chonitathat night, something he had not dared to hope for, and he suspectedthat she had promoted the opportunity. 

The men remained in the dining-room after the ladies had withdrawn, and Estenega, restored to his normal condition, and in his naturalelement among these people of the world, expanded into the highspirits and convivial interest in masculine society which made him aspopular with men as he was fascinating, through the exercise ofmore subtle faculties, to women. Reinaldo watched him with jealousimpatience; no one cared to hearken to his eloquence when Estenegatalked; and he had come to Fort Ross only to have a conversationwith his one-time enemy. As he listened to Estenega, shorn, for thetime-being, of his air of dictator and watchful ambition, a man ofthe world taking an enthusiastic part in the hilarity of the hour, but never sacrificing his dignity by assuming the rôle of chiefentertainer, there grew within him a dull sense of inferiority: hefelt, rather than knew, that neither the city of Mexico nor gratifiedambitions would give him that assured ease, that perfection ofbreeding, that calm sense of power, concealing so gracefully therelentless will and the infinite resource which made this mostun-Californian of Californians seem to his Arcadian eyes a being of ahigher star. And hatred blazed forth anew. 

As the men rose, finally, to go to the drawing-room, he asked Estenegato remain for a moment. "Thou wilt keep thy promise soon, no?" he saidwhen they were alone. 

"What promise?"

"Thy promise to send me as diputado to the next Mexican Congress. "

Estenega looked at him reflectively. He had little toleration for theman of inferior brain, and, although he did not underrate his powerfor mischief, he relied upon his own wit to circumvent him. He haddisposed of this one by warning Santa Ana, and he concluded to beannoyed by him no further. Besides, as a brother-in-law, he would beinsupportable except at the long range of mutual unamiability. 

"I made you no promise, " he said, deliberately; "and I shall make younone. I do not wish you in the city of Mexico. "

Reinaldo's face grew livid. "Thou darest to say that to me, and yetwould marry my sister?"

"I would, and I shall. "

"And yet thou wouldst not help her brother?"

"Her brother is less to me than any man with whom I have sat to-night. Build no hopes on that. You will stay at Santa Barbara and play thegrand seigneur, which suits you very well, or become a prisoner inyour own house. " And he left the room. 

XXXI. 

An hour later they assembled in the plaza to start for the bear hunt. Reinaldo was not of the party. 

Estenega lifted Chonita to her horse and stood beside her for a momentwhile the others mounted. He touched her hand with his:

"We could not have a more beautiful night, " he said, significantly. "And I have often wished that my father had included this spot when heapplied for his grant. I should like to live with you here. Even whenthe winds rage and hurl the rain through the very window pane, I knowof no more enchanting spot than Fort Ross. The Russians are going;some day I will buy it for you. "

She made no reply, but she did not withdraw her hand, and he heldit closely and glanced slowly about him. Always, despite his bitterintimacy with life, in kinship with nature, perhaps in that moment ithad a deeper meaning, for he saw with double vision: She was there;and, with him, sensible not only of the beauty of the night, but ofthe indefinable mystery which broods over California the moment thesun falls. Perhaps, too, he was troubled by a vague foreboding, suchas comes to mortals sometimes in spite of their limitations: he neversaw Fort Ross again. 

On the horizon the fog crouched and moved; marched like a battalion ofocean's ghosts; suddenly cohered and sent out light puffs of smoke, asfrom the crater of a spectral volcano. The moon, full and bright andcold, hung low in the dark sky: one hardly noted the stars. The vastsweep of water was as calm as a lake, dark and metallic like the sky, barely reflecting the silver light between. But although calm it wasnot quiet. It greeted the forbidding rocks beyond the shore, the longirregular line of stark, storm-beaten cliffs, with ominous mutter, nowand again throwing a cloud of spray high in the air, as if in derisiveproof that even in sleep it was sensible of its power. Occasionally itmoaned, as if sounding a dirge along the mass of stones which stormshad hurled or waves had wrenched from the crags above, --a dirge forbeheaded Russians, for him who had walked the plank, or for the loverof Natalie Ivanhoff. 

Here and there the cliffs were intersected by deep straggling gulches, out of whose sides grew low woods of brush; but the three tablesrising successively from the ocean to the forest on the mountain, werealmost bare. On the highest, between two gulches, on a knoll so bareand black and isolated that its destiny was surely taken into accountat creation, was a tall rude cross and a half hundred neglectedgraves. The forest seemed blacker just behind it, the shadows thickerin the gorges that embraced it, the ocean grayer and more illimitablebefore it. "Natalie Ivanhoff is there in her copper coffin, " saidEstenega, "forgotten already. "

The curve of the mountain was so perfect that it seemed to reach downa long arm on either side and grasp the cliffs. The redwoods on itscrown and upper slopes were a mass of rigid shadows, the points, only, sharply etched on the night sky. They might have been a wall about anundiscovered country. 

"Come, " cried Rotscheff, "we are ready to start. " And Estenega sprangto his horse. 

"I don't envy you, " said the Princess Hélène from the veranda, hersilveren head barely visible above the furs which enveloped her. "Iprefer the fire. "

"You are warmly clad?" asked Estenega of Chonita. "But you have theblood of the South in your veins. "

They climbed the steep road between the levels, slowly, the womenchattering and asking questions, the men explaining and advising. Estenega and Chonita having much to say, said nothing. 

A cold volume of air, the muffled roar of a mountain torrent, rushedout of the forest, startling with the suddenness of its impact. Once apanther uttered its human cry. 

They entered the forest. It was so dark here that the horses wanderedfrom the trail and into the brush again and again. Conversationceased; except for the muffled footfalls of the horses and the speechof the waters there was no sound. Chonita had never known a stillnessso profound; the giant trees crowding together seemed to resentintrusion, to menace an eternal silence. She moved her horse close toEstenega's and he took her hand. Occasionally there was an opening, awell of blackness, for the moon had not yet come to the forest. 

They reached the summit, and descended. Half-way down the mountainthey rode into a farm in a valley formed by one of the many basins. 

The Indians were waiting, and killed a bullock at once, placing thecarcass in a conspicuous place. Then all retired to the shade of thetrees. In less than a half-hour a bear came prowling out of the forestand began upon the meal so considerately provided for him. When hisattention was fully engaged, Rotscheff and the officers, mounted, dashed down upon him, swinging their lassos. The bear showed fight andstood his ground, but this was an occasion when the bear always gotthe worst of it. One lasso caught his neck, another his hind foot, and he was speedily strained and strangled to death. No sooner washe despatched than another appeared, then another, and the sport grewvery exciting, absorbing the attention of the women as well as theenergies of the men. 

Estenega lifted Chonita from her horse. "Let us walk, " he said. "They will not miss us. A few yards farther, and you will be on myterritory. I want you there. "

She made no protest, and they entered the forest. The moon shone downthrough the lofty redwoods that seemed to scrape its crystal; themonotone of the distant sea blended with the faint roar of thetree-tops. The vast gloomy aisles were unbroken by other sound. 

He took her hand and held it a moment, then drew it through his arm. "Now tell me all, " he said, "They will be occupied for a long while. The night is ours. "

"I have come here to tell you that I love you, " she said. "Ah, can _I_make _you_ tremble? It was impossible for me not to tell you this; Icould not rest in my retreat without having the last word withyou, without having you know me. And I want to tell you that I havesuffered horribly; you may care to know that, for no one else in theworld could have made me, no one else ever can. Only your fingerscould twist in my heart-strings and tear my heart out of my body. Isuffered first because I doubted you, then because I loved you, thenthe torture of jealousy and the pangs of parting, then those dreadfulthree months when I heard no word. I could not stay at Casa Grande;everything associated with you drove me wild. Oh, I have gone throughall varieties! But the last was the worst, after I heard from youagain, and all other causes were removed, and I knew that you werewell and still loved me: the knowledge that I never could be anythingto you, --and I could be so much! The torment of this knowledge was sobitter that there was but one refuge, --imagination. I shut my eyes tomy little world and lived with you; and it seemed to me that I grewinto absolute knowledge of you. Let me tell you what I divined. Youmay tell me that I am wrong, but I do not believe that you will. Ithink that in the little time we were together I absorbed you. 

"It seemed to me that your soul reached always for something justabove the attainable, restless in the moments which would satisfyanother, fretted with a perverse desire for something different whenan ardent wish was granted, steeped, under all wanton determinedenjoyment of life, with the bitter knowing of life's sure impotenceto satisfy. Could the dissatisfied darting mind loiter long enough togive a woman more than the promise of happiness?--but never mind that. 

"With this knowledge of you my own resistless desire for variety leftme: my nature concentrated into one paramount wish, --to be all thingsto you. What I had felt vaguely before and stifled--the nothingnessof life, the inevitableness of satiety--I repudiated utterly, now thatthey were personified in you; I would not recognize the fact of theirexistence. _I_ could make you happy. How could imagination shape suchscenes, such perfection of union, of companionship, if reality werenot? Imagination is the child of inherited and living impressions. Imight exaggerate; but, even stripped of its halo, the substance mustbe sweeter and more fulfilling than anything else on this earth atleast. And I knew that you loved me. Oh, I had _felt_ that! And thevariousness of your nature and desires, although they might maddenme at times, would give an extraordinary zest to life. I was TheDoomswoman no longer. I was a supplementary being who could meet youin every mood and complete it; who would so understand that I couldbe man and woman and friend to you. A delusion? But so long as I shallnever know, let me believe. An extraordinary tumultuous desire thatrose in me like a wave and shook me often at first, had, in those lastsad weeks, less part in my musings. It seemed to me that that was theexpression, the poignant essence, of love; but there was so much else!I do not understand that, however, and never shall. But I wanted totell you all. I could not rest until you knew me as I am and asyou had made me. And I will tell you this too, " she cried, breakingsuddenly, "I wanted you so! Oh, I needed you so! It was not I, only, who could give. And it is so terrible for a woman to stand alone!"

He made no reply for a moment. But he forgot every other interest andscheme and idea stored in his impatient brain. He was thrilled to hissoul, and filled with the exultant sense that he was about to take tohis heart the woman compounded for him out of his own elements. 

"Speak to me, " she said. 

"My love, I have so much to say to you that it will take all the yearswe shall spend together to say it in. "

"No, no! Do not speak of that. There I am firm. Although the misery ofthe past months were to be multiplied ten hundred times in the future, I would not marry you. "

Estenega, knowing that their hour of destiny was come, and that uponhim alone depended its issues, was not the man to hesitate betweensuch happiness as this woman alone could give him, and the grayexistence which she in her blindness would have meted to both: hisbold will had already taken the future in its relentless grasp. But, knowing the mental habit of women, he thought it best to let Chonitafree her mind, that there might be the less in it to protest forhearing while his heart and passion spoke to hers. 

"It seems absurd to argue the matter, " he said, "but tell me thereasons again, if you choose, and we will dispose of them once forall. Do not think for a moment, my darling, that I do not respect yourreasons; but I respect them only because they are yours; in themselvesthey are not worthy of consideration. "

"Ay, but they are. It has been an unwritten law for four generationsthat an Estenega and an Iturbi y Moncada should not marry; the enmitybegan, as you should know, when a member of each family was an officerin a detachment of troops sent to protect the Missions in theirbuilding. And my father--he told me lately--loved your father's sisterfor many years, --that was the reason he married so late in life, --andwould not ask her because of her blood and of cruel wrongs her fatherhad done his. Shall his daughter be weak where he was strong? You castaside traditions as if they were the seeds of an apple; but rememberthat they are blood of my blood. And the vow I made, --do you forgetthat? And the words of it? The Church stands between us. I will tellyou all: the priest has forbidden me to marry you; he forbade it everytime I confessed; not only because of my vow, but because you hadaroused in me a love so terrible that I almost took the life ofanother woman. Could I bring you back to the Church it might bedifferent; but you rule others; no one could remould you. You see itis hopeless. It is no use to argue. "

"I have no intention of arguing. Words are too good to waste on suchan absurd proposition that because our fathers hated, we, who areindependent and intelligent beings, should not marry when every dropof heart's blood demands its rights. As for your vow, --what is a vow?Hysterical egotism, nothing more. Were it the promise of man to man, the subject would be worth discussing. But we will settle the matterin our own way. " He took her suddenly in his arms and kissed her. Sheput her arms about him and clung to him, trembling, her lips pressedto his. In that supreme moment he felt not happiness, but a bitterdesire to bear her out of the world into some higher sphere where theconditions of happiness might possibly exist. "On the highest pinnaclewe reach, " he thought, "we are granted the tormenting and chasteningglimpse of what might be, had God, when he compounded his victims, been in a generous mood and completed them. "

And she? she was a woman. 

"You will resist no longer, " he said, in a few moments. 

"Ay, more surely than ever, now. " Her voice was faint, but crossed bya note of terror. "In that moment I forgot my religion and my duty. And what is so sweet, --it cannot be right. "

"Do you so despise your womanhood, the most perfect thing about you?"

"Oh, let us return! I wanted to kiss you once. I meant to do that. ButI should not--Let us go! Oh, I love you so! I love you so!"

He drew her closer and kissed her until her head fell forward andher body grew heavy. "I shall think and act now, for both, " he said, unsteadily, although there was no lack of decision in his voice. "Youare mine. I claim you, and I shall run no further risk of losing you. Oh, you will forgive me--my love--"

Neither saw a man walking rapidly up the trail. Suddenly the man gavea bound and ran toward them. It was Reinaldo. 

"Ah, I have found thee, " he cried. "Listen, Don Diego Estenega, lordof the North, American, and would-be dictator of the Californias. Twohours ago I despatched a vaquero with a circular letter to the priestsof the Department of the Californias, warning them each and allto write at once to the Archbishop of Mexico, and protest that thesuccess of your ambitions would mean the downfall of the CatholicChurch in California, and telling them your schemes. Thou art mighty, O Don Diego Estenega, but thou art powerless against the enmity ofthe Church. They are mightier than thou, and thou wilt never rule inCalifornia. Unhand my sister! Thou shalt not have her either. Thoushalt have nothing. Wilt thou unhand her?" he cried, enraged atEstenega's cold reception of his damnatory news. "Thou shouldst nothave her if I tore thy heart from thy body. "

Estenega looked contemptuously across Chonita's shoulder, althoughhis heart was lead within him. "The last resource of the mean anddown-trodden is revenge, " he said. "Go. To-morrow I shall horsewhipyou in the court-yard of Fort Ross. "

Reinaldo, hot with excitement and thirst for further vengeance, uttered a shriek of rage and sprang upon him. Estenega saw the gleamof a knife and flung Chonita aside, catching the driving arm, thefury of his heart in his muscles. Reinaldo had the soft muscles ofthe cabellero, and panted and writhed in the iron grasp of the manwho forgot that he grappled with the brother of a woman passionatelyloved, remembered only that he rejoiced to fight to the death the manwho had ruined his life. Reinaldo tried to thrust the knife into hisback; Estenega suddenly threw his weight on the arm that held it, nearly wrenching it from its socket, snatched the knife, and drove itto the heart of his enemy. 

Then the hot blood in his body turned cold. He stood like a stoneregarding Chonita, whose eyes, fixed upon him, were expanded withhorror. Between them lay the dead body of her brother. 

He turned with a groan and sat down on a fallen log, supporting hischin with his hand. His profile looked grim and worn and old. Hestared unseeingly at the ground. Chonita stood, still looking at him. The last act of her brother's life had been to lay the foundation ofher lover's ruin; his death had completed it: all the South wouldrise did the slayer of an Iturbi y Moncada seek to rule it. She feltvaguely sorry for Reinaldo; but death was peace; this was hellin living veins. The memory of the world beyond the forest grewindistinct. She recalled her first dream and turned in loathing fromthe bloodless selfishness of which it was the allegory. Superstitionand tradition slipped into some inner pocket of her memory, there torattle their dry bones together and fall to dust. She saw only thefigure, relaxed for the first time, the profile of a man with hishead on the block. She stepped across the body of her brother, and, kneeling beside Estenega, drew his head to her breast. 

THE END