diff options
Diffstat (limited to '39995.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 39995.txt | 9597 |
1 files changed, 9597 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/39995.txt b/39995.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..29620c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/39995.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9597 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of For the Soul of Rafael, by Marah Ellis Ryan + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: For the Soul of Rafael + +Author: Marah Ellis Ryan + +Release Date: June 14, 2012 [EBook #39995] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR THE SOUL OF RAFAEL *** + + + + +Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, tallforasmurf and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +TRANSCRIBER'S NOTE + +This etext differs from the original as follows. A few typographical +errors that did not affect the sense have been corrected. The character +U with tilde is shown as [~U]. The oe ligature is shown as [oe]. The +original has musical notation at many points, indicated thus: + +[Music (title, when given)] + +Where the music also has lyrics, they are formatted as poetry below the +that line. + + + + +[Illustration: FOR THE SOUL OF RAFAEL] + +[Illustration: "BECAUSE OF ONE LITTLE WHITE VAMPIRE."] + + + + + FOR THE SOUL OF RAFAEL + + BY + + MARAH ELLIS RYAN + + AUTHOR OF "TOLD IN THE HILLS" "THE BONDWOMAN" ETC. + + + WITH MANY ILLUSTRATIONS FROM PHOTOGRAPHS + TAKEN EXPRESSLY FOR THIS BOOK + BY + HAROLD A. TAYLOR + + DECORATIVE DESIGNS BY + RALPH FLETCHER SEYMOUR + + ELEVENTH EDITION + + + CHICAGO + A.C. McCLURG & CO. + 1920 + + + + + COPYRIGHT + A.C. MCCLURG & CO. + 1906 + + Entered at Stationers Hall, London + + Photographs by HAROLD A. TAYLOR, by permission of + The Hallett-Taylor Company + +The Author is indebted to the Southwest Society of the + Archaeological Institute of America for the + Spanish Music contained in this volume + + Published May 12, 1906 + Second Edition, Sept. 15, 1906 + Third Edition, Oct. 1, 1906 + Fourth Edition, Dec. 5, 1906 + Fifth Edition, Dec. 15, 1906 + Sixth Edition, Feb. 11, 1907 + 7th Edition, Aug. 31, 1907 + 8th Edition, Jan. 12, 1909 + 9th Edition, April 30, 1909 + 10th Edition, Oct. 15, 1910 + 11th Edition, Nov. 10, 1914 + + M.A. DONOHUE & CO., PRINTERS AND BINDERS, CHICAGO + + + A MIS AMIGOS DE CALIFORNIA + + _que siempre me han prestado su ayuda con_ + _aquella bonded que les es caracteristica._ + + M.E.R. + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + + Page + +"BECAUSE OF ONE LITTLE WHITE VAMPIRE" Frontispiece + +DONA ANGELA 32 + +RAQUEL ESTEVAN 56 + +KEITH BRYTON 62 + +"NEVER ON ANY OTHER SHORE" 128 + +"YOU LIED TO ME--ALL OF YOU!" 166 + +"R[~U]ELAS ME FECIT: ME LLAMA SAN JUAN. 1796." 176 + +"THEN I HEARD YOUR VOICE" 240 + +"HERE AMONG THE RUINS CONSECRATED" 260 + +"THERE IS NO FORGETTING" 278 + +THE ALISO TREE 294 + +AN INNER COURT 302 + +THE SERENADE 312 + +"AFTER THE VERY GAY SUPPER" 316 + +"THEIR HOSTESS HAD ARRIVED" 320 + +"AND--HE WAS AN ARTEAGA!" 334 + +"EACH WAY HE TURNED HE MET AN ALTAR OR A PRIEST" 352 + +"ONE WORDLESS MINUTE" 368 + +"THINGS KNOWN AND NEVER TOLD" 372 + + +[Music: _La Calandria_ (The Meadow Lark)] + +[Music: _Capitan de un Barco_.] + + Capitan de un barco Me escribio un papel + Que si ne queria Casarme con el. + + + + + FOR THE SOUL OF RAFAEL + + + + +CHAPTER I + + +Over the valley of the Mission of the Tragedies, the grass was knee-deep +in March that year. The horses galloping from the mesa trail down to +Boca de la Playa (the mouth of the ocean) were fat and sleek and tricky +as they ran neck and neck past the corral of the little plain, and +splashed in glee through the San Juan River, where it ends its short run +from the Sierras to the Pacific. + +Where the west trail hugged the hill, two men sat their broncos, +watching that no strays break for the mesa above; and beyond the cross +on Avila's hill, other vaqueros guarded El Camino Real (the road royal), +lest in the whirl and dash of the round-up rebels might break for the +open and a stampede undo all the riding since dawn of day. + +High above on the western cliff a giant head of cactus reared infernal +arms and luminous bloom. One immense clump threw a shadow across the +cliff road where it leaves the river plain and winds along the canyon to +the mesa above the sea,--the road over which in the old days the Mission +Indians bore hides to the ships and flung them from the cliffs to the +waiting boats below. + +A man stood back of the cactus watching with tireless eyes the dividing +of the herds and the quick work of the vaqueros as their excited +mustangs raced for a stray or a rebel from the ranks. A dark serape was +at his feet, the dust of the roads on his face, and when he removed his +sombrero to light a cigarro in its shelter, there was disclosed a great +shock of black hair worn unusually long, and matching in unkemptness the +full beard covering his face almost to his black velvety eyes. + +They were the one youthful feature in an otherwise weather-worn visage, +and at the sound of horse hoofs on the road, they opened wider, +listening, alert, yet he did not turn to look whence the sounds came. +Instead, he dropped silently to the serape, crushed the end of the +cigarro against a cactus leaf, and waited, as still and as safe from +detection as a lizard of the mesa in a sage thicket. + +He could see clearly the face of Don Antonio, the major-domo, and +instinctively his right hand reached for his gun. Then he shrugged his +shoulders at his own folly, and bent his head to listen. Don Antonio +was speaking Americano to a man riding beside him, and the man behind +the cactus frowned impatiently,--the villanous tongue was an added +grievance. A few rebellious animals had made a dash for the cliff, and +Don Antonio waved his sombrero and ranged his horse across the road. His +companion did the same, and to give the vaqueros time to cross the river +after them, the two stood guard in the shadow of the cactus, and rolled +cigarros and smoked leisurely, while the horsemen, in jingling spurs and +all the bravery of the Mexican riders' outfit, circled and lassoed the +pick of the herd for the Apache work of the government in the desert +lands. + +"It is quicker done than it was a year ago," the American remarked +approvingly, "and the horses are in better condition. If you can let us +have the five hundred from the La Paz ranges, there should be no trouble +about making up the other five hundred from the San Mateo." + +"Not any, senor," agreed Don Antonio, "I send a man down to have them +round-up for next week. You no want that they begin sooner than that?" + +"To-morrow," returned the other with smiling decision. + +"To-morrow! Holy Maria and Jose! You will cut out the fiesta and the +barbecue always given for the army men? Senor Bryton, the Don Miguel and +Don Rafael Arteaga will feel offend if you refuse their hospitality +except for the little--little while, the horse herd is arranged for." + +"Sorry to offend the young men," observed the other. "But since Don +Miguel is ranging in some other part of California, and your Don Rafael +is in Mexico getting married or making love,--which is it?--I reckon +they will not miss us much." + +"No, senor, it is not to marry down there, only to make it all arrange. +His mother, the Dona Luisa, is there in Mexico since San Pascual; but +Dona Luisa will be more old and crippled than she is now, before she +lets Don Rafael be marry outside her own Mission." + +"So they come back here for the ceremony?" + +"Sure! Dona Luisa she marry Don Vicente, here in San Juan Capistrano. It +is here he have the big trouble with the padre, and the padre put the +curse on him that long time ago. It is here that he is brought back dead +from San Pascual. And now when the sons have make much trouble, all are +dead but two, and when Dona Luisa, who was so proud, has only Indian +grandchildren, she wants to marry Rafael to a senorita who is half a +nun, that the curse may be lifted. She think that girl do more to keep +him from walking in Miguel's shoes than prayers to the saints can do; +and it may be,--who knows? I hear you talking of the padre's curse to +the Alcalde, so I know you hearing the story." + +"Um--something of church property south of here, wasn't it?" remarked +the American. "Yes, I remember. There goes a mare that is a beauty for a +mustang." + +"Some few years, and you no getting that strong, wild stock some more," +he observed. "Miguel and Rafael want English stallions and such other +breeds. They will have English stock and American customs. The saints +keep Dona Luisa from hearing them all. I mean no discourtesy, senor, but +she is an old woman now, and left her home because she would not live in +your government. She comes back for duty and the marriage; but the old +never change, senor, and she is hating it till she die." + +The American cast his eyes northward where the heights of San Jacinto +stood guard over the beautiful valley. Willows marked the course of +Trabuco Creek and San Juan River, and on the plateau between them +gleamed the ruined dome of the old mission, a remnant of beauty such as +the ranging American meets with in Latin lands, seldom in his own, and +admires, and wonders if it was worth while, and drifts away again, but +never quite forgets. + +Yellow-white it gleamed like an opal in a setting of velvety ranges +under turquoise skies. About its walls were the clustered adobes of the +Mexicans, like children creeping close to the feet of the one mother; +and beyond that the illimitable ranges of mesa and valley, of live-oak +groves and knee-deep meadows, of countless springs and canyons of +mystery, whence gold was washed in the freshets; and over all, eloquent, +insistent, appealing, the note of the meadow-lark cutting clearly +through the hoof-beats of the herd and the calls of the vaqueros. + +"I think I should hate it, too," he said at last. "They lived like kings +and made their own laws in those days. After being a queen of all this, +it would be hard to be subject to new forms." + +"That is it, senor, she never get used to like the American flag. That +why she want always that Don Rafael marry South, a good Catholic, and a +senorita of Mexico. She only living for that, they say. Now when it is +done she die in peace." + +"And Rafael, how will he manage his American deals when--" + +Don Antonio shrugged his shoulders doubtfully. + +"Who knows? I glad I living my young life in other days. The fences +have make ruin of the country in the north; after a while it is down +here all the same. All cut up in little gardens. Who knows?" + +The American restrained a smile as he thought of the sixty-five miles +they had ridden across, and only one little German colony where fence or +hedges were in evidence. For the rest all was fenced on the east by the +mountains and on the west by the sea. On the north the Santa Barbara +range would perhaps serve as a barricade, and south even the Mexican +line raised no obstacle to roving herds. + +"The fences will not come in our day, and it is all now to be a pleasure +ground for your gay Don Rafael." + +"Not so much of a pleasure ground as it looks, senor," observed Don +Antonio dryly. "The same curse works still. It is good he marries a +convent girl; it takes the prayers of Dona Luisa, and a saint besides, +to clear these ranges of Barto Nordico, el Capitan." + +The man on the serape shrugged his shoulders and lifted his head, +resting it on his hands to listen better. + +"Nordico? Oh, yes! the man with an eye for good horses." + +"If it were only an eye," grumbled Don Antonio, "but the devil seems to +have a hundred hands, and his reata touches only the first stock on the +Arteaga ranches." + +"Not only the Arteagas', I suppose?" + +"Oh, you not hearing that?" and the older man's tone expressed surprise. +"It going with the curse, maybe, we not knowing. Old Don Vicente have +the brother Ramon, but Vicente buy up all Ramon's land some way. Ramon +goes crazy mad, _loco_, on that account. And then his son, Barto, he +study for the priest, that is when the war comes, and he is only little +yet. He running away from school to fight; but all he can do is to carry +the letters, he is so little and can ride so like the devil. He never is +content to the American flags, no more than Dona Luisa, so he just +keeping on to fight, and the government no getting him." + +"Do they try?" asked the American. + +"Do they--do they try? Since he joined Juan Flores, one dozen men in +Capistrano have the sword cut or the bullet mark, who have gone to try +for that reward. It is good money, but no one getting it. He is a +devil." + +"But I don't understand. You make him out an Arteaga, yet he is called +Nordico?" + +"Oh, he hating the Arteagas, so he taking his mother's name. He take the +government mail sometimes, and he takes the Arteaga horses always, and +no one ever finds him any place. While men follow his trail for the +mountains, he is out in a boat on the sea. The saints send that he does +not meet the marriage gifts of Don Rafael." + +The man behind the cactus fairly held his breath. + +"Whew! would he attack the Mission or the town?" + +"It would not be the first time," returned Antonio, "but it is of the +bride-chests on the journey that I speak. Sixty miles of land they must +cover from San Diego, and they cost more than a herd of horses." + +"Rafael can replace the gifts," observed the American, "so long as his +bandit cousin does not kidnap the bride; but even that, I suppose, might +be done in this land of lonely ranges." + +The man under the cactus nodded and showed his teeth in an appreciative +smile. He had met good fortune for his long vigil; it was a day of luck, +and he crossed himself. + +The vaqueros had circled the rebellious animals, and headed them back. + +"It is true, the horses are in better condition this year," conceded the +major-domo as they watched the horses loping along the river side. "Do +you send them all together, or by the five hundred, across the range, +Senor Bryton?" + +"By the five hundred, I think the lieutenant said," replied Bryton. "It +is not easy to feed more in one bunch on the journey." + +The man behind the cactus arose stealthily and stretched his arms as the +hoof-beats grew more faint. + +"Senor Bryton--eh?" and he shrugged his shoulders contentedly. "The +clever Bryton who put us off the track last year and took the stock by +the north! This time he will not be so clever. Still, he gives a man +ideas in the head,--may he have an easy death for that! Rafael's good +friend who picks the good horses for the good government!" + +[Music: _La Viuda._] + + Corre muchacho a la yglesia, + Dile al sacristan mayor, + Que repique las campanas, tan! tan! + + + + +CHAPTER II + + +"Men make plans, and the devil makes other plans--and the devil's plan +has always the luck with it." + +Don Antonio had expressed himself thus to the army men, who fumed and +fretted at delays incident to the funeral ceremonies of Miguel Arteaga, +for whom the Mission bells clanged in the gray of a morning, and the +word went out that he lay trampled into the dust of the Santa Ana ranch. +A thousand head of stampeding cattle had gone over him, and the younger +brother--the handsome Rafael--was now the head of the Arteaga family. +And with half the horses selected for the government, the work had +stopped short. There was no head to anything now until Rafael arrived. +In vain the army men swore, and went farther south to secure mounts +for the regiment. They had to come back to San Juan, and then it was +that Keith Bryton, with his knowledge of the people and of the country, +came to their aid. + +He heard that the debonair Rafael had landed at San Pedro the day of the +death, and had quietly lost himself from the dismal ceremonies awaiting +him in his own province. Miguel could not be seen; what use was it to +witness the howling mob of Indian retainers? + +Bryton, knowing something and surmising more of the situation, held the +army men with some promise to "fix things," and secretly despatched a +trusted vaquero with a letter to San Pedro, allowing the new heir for +his return just the time necessary for the next ship to come into the +harbor, and the extra day's drive from Los Angeles. In the meantime a +personal letter giving orders to Don Antonio to hand over the stock as +per contract was needed badly in San Juan, if Don Rafael ever cared +again for government favors. + +The vaquero rode back in forty-eight hours with the order. The work of +rounding-up began over again, and only Keith Bryton and Don Antonio knew +how it had come about. + +Slowly affairs began to assume their usual routine. People began to talk +of other things; and only Dona Teresa, the widow of Miguel, continued to +go daily to the dark old chapel back of the Mission dining-room, and +kneel in prayer before the wooden saints in the niches. She sat in the +patio of Juan Alvara's house, and stared listlessly from one square of +tiling in the pavement to another. The priest had just left her after +the perfunctory words of solace, and was refreshing himself with a glass +of brandy preparatory to a game of _malilla_. The week had been one of +trial; it always is so when the death is one of accident--no one is +ready. + +The Dona Teresa had been a pretty girl in the days when Miguel Arteaga +serenaded her endlessly, and her family had insisted that the marriage +should not be postponed to add to their sleepless nights. One year--two +years, and the serenades were a thing of a former life, and so was fat +Teresa's beauty. From the willows was brought again the Indian girl +whose two children had been christened in his name. She looked after the +servants who cooked for the vaqueros. Her manner was ever quiet and +submissive to Dona Teresa, who accepted her as better than any of the +others of the same class. Dona Teresa had no children, and envied though +she was not jealous of Aguada of the smoke-black eyes and the babies. +And it was Aguada who came to Dona Teresa in the patio, undid her +bonnet-strings, and bathed her face and hands with cool water. + +Past the veranda of Juan Alvara, at San Juan, all the world of +Southern California found its way. There was a tavern down the street, +where the stages stopped between Los Angeles and San Diego, but Juan +Alvara's house was the one dwelling where distinguished travellers were +entertained, after the hospitality of the padres at the Mission was a +thing of the past. It was up to this veranda Keith Bryton rode from the +second round-up at Boca de la Playa. He was tired and dusty, and +accepted gratefully the wine for which the old man sent when he saw his +guest approaching. + +Alvara did not usually like "Gringos"; but at the time the Juan Flores +bandits were holding up the town for ransom, it was Keith Bryton who had +gathered a posse of men, including the sheriff, and headed them again +for San Juan. Grain-sacks were piled along the roof of the Mission as a +barricade, and behind them some riflemen guarded, as best they could, +the several families who had fled to the walls of the church for +protection. + +Only one store had been burned, and one store-keeper killed, when the +help came--thanks to Bryton, and that one ride broke down all barriers +for the young Gringo in San Juan. He now never rode past Alvara's +veranda without a halt for a glass of wine, or a chat, or even that best +test of understanding, a rest in silence together, looking out across +the river to the blue shadows of the hills. + +This day as the young man sat smoking in such silence, viewing idly the +passing Indians whose dark faces were lit by the rosy glow of the +lowering sun, and watching the circling doves whose white wings caught +flashes of pink from pink clouds above, the older man, regarding his +thoughtful face, asked after a quiet interval, "What is it, my friend?" + +The handsome bronzed young fellow stretched wide his arms with a great +sigh, and laughed shortly. + +"Foolishness, Don Juan, much foolishness. I was homesick for a something +I never knew, so I left Los Angeles and came here to find it. Can you +understand so crazy a thing as that?" + +The old man nodded slowly. + +"It is a girl--no?" + +The young man laughed again, without mirth. + +"Which of them?" and Bryton made a gesture toward a group of dark faces +across the plaza. "There is pretty Lizetta, Teresa; and if one wants the +other sort, there is Chola Martina staring at us both under her +mantilla." + +"It is you she stares at. The Lieutenant danced with her last night. He +is just off the ranges, so she is to-day crazy over the Americanos. +No--it is not any of such girls you are for." + +"I reckon not," agreed the young fellow. "I think it is just the +atmosphere, and perhaps the old monastery. The pictures of Mexican towns +paint themselves on the memory and stay there. Were you ever in Old +Mexico, Don Juan?" + +"Not I; never have I been a travelled man. But you--?" + +"I was down there a year ago," answered Bryton, looking hard at the +hills. "I found a town in a valley like this,--there were just the same +sort of 'dobes, and the same sort of big church walls,--only it was a +nuns' cloister, instead of a deserted monastery." + +"And--?" + +"I'll never go back, but--I'll never forget it! That old broken wall, +and Moorish chimney, and the doves--they all belong to the same sort of +picture. I come here to sit and moon over them once in a while, that's +all!" + +The old man regarded him with shrewd, kindly eyes. He had the strain of +Spanish blood, condoning many follies of youth. + +"So!" he said, kindly. "Thou comest here to dance with the girls of San +Juan, that the other girl may be forgotten? Ai--yi!--these other +sweethearts are fellows who make much trouble!--so?" + +"It is something more than a sweetheart keeps me away," remarked the +young fellow after a slight pause. "A mere sweetheart is not such a +barricade; most of us are perverse enough to think it rather an +incentive." + +"You too, my friend?" + +"Who knows?" + +The old man puffed out another cigaretto and threw the stump away before +he spoke. + +"The wives of other men it is wise to go clear of, my friend." + +Keith laughed more than the remark called for; in fact, his amusement +dispelled the murky thoughts by which he had been driven to the +hospitable veranda. + +"True--very true; but which of us is always wise?" + +Alvara made no reply to this, only shook his head, and the other, noting +the perplexity of it, chuckled. + +"Don't lose sleep over my depravity," he suggested. "I am no blacker +than the rest of the sheep." + +"Even then thou wouldst fall far short of whiteness," remarked the older +man. "The padre swears that San Juan will have worse than earthquakes if +there is no reform." + +"That is bad," said Keith, with owl-like gravity. + +"It is bad, senor--and it is true. I heard him say it but an hour ago. +He was playing _malilla_ with old Henrico and won three pesos. He says +it is wrong to race horses on Sunday, since Jose went under and had his +neck broke. Jose, like Miguel, had not confessed, and the padre wants +money for a mass." + +"Will he get it?" + +"Sure. The boys will not see him stay in purgatory for thirty pesos. +They are throwing dice at Don Eduardo's now, to see who will pay." + +"If it was the horse of Don Eduardo, and Jose had ridden for him ten +years, why cannot Don Eduardo pay?" + +"Don Eduardo is English. The Englishmen are used to going to hell." + +"They would deserve to go for that, if for nothing else," commented +Bryton, as the report of a blast shook the ground, and across the plaza +the air was filled with flying rock and brick and plaster; and then a +great cloud of dust drifted upward as the Mexican workmen strolled back +to their task of tearing down the old church of San Juan Capistrano, +whose massive stone walls it had taken the padres and their neophytes so +many years of toil to complete. + +"Not a church equal to it in the Californias; not a church equal to it +dreamed of in the States when it was being built!" and the young fellow +stared moodily at the devastation of it. "Can't the bishop stop that?" + +"Ten years the Church fight to get it back. They must win some day--oh, +yes--sure!" + +"But what will they have when the suit is won, if this is allowed to go +on?" + +"Who knows?" queried Alvara, placidly. "We may be in our graves, senor, +and not here to see it. When Eduardo wants foundation for an adobe, he +blows down a stone wall; when he wants walls for a well, he blows down +the arches of the patio, until bricks enough fall. It is quicker than to +burn new ones." + +"But the padre?" + +"There is the man who is padre of San Juan Capistrano in these days," +said Juan Alvara, briefly. + +A man was coming up the middle of the road, his boots wet and muddy from +irrigating-ditches, a short black pipe between his teeth. He halted to +chaffer with an Indian woman who carried a basket of fish from the sea. + +Contemptuously viewing the modest sea bass, he said: "Fish only a foot +long--what good are they? Who is fool enough to buy such?" + +"It is not to sell, father. Tia Concepcion, who is much sick, ask for +these; they are to give, for she is sick." + +"Humph! a sick woman to eat ten fish! They will be sending for me in the +middle of the night for prayers. You go to my cook, and leave seven of +these with him in the kitchen for my supper." + +The Indian lowered her head and passed on to the Mission. The padre +crossed the plaza to where the group of girls stood chatting at the open +gate of a patio. At his approach they fell silent, but a few brief words +scattered them quickly toward their several homes, and the man of the +church tramped on, the dust of the road sticking to his wet boots. + +"All what brings a price and is overlooked by the Englishmen, this padre +will dig up," said Juan Alvara. "He is getting rich from many fields." + +"Many fields?" + +"Many fields--the church, the little ranch he has picked up, and the +game of _monte_ or _malilla_. He is the new sort of priest they send +these days from Catalonia. No one in San Juan confesses now until Padre +Sanchez comes past. If the church wins, the Mission will be blown down +all the same, so long while some one pay four bits a load for brick. All +is much changed. Father Sanchez is another kind--a holy man and of God." + +Alvara lifted his sombrero reverently. + +"The vaqueros coming with the band of horses from the beach soon," he +observed. "We will go to the corrals, and help you to forget the +girl--no?" + +"I'm not so anxious to forget, I reckon--the girl is only a sort of +dream girl. This trip was not so much to forget a girl as to--you +remember Teddy, my half-brother?" + +"Don Teddy? Sure--he was the life of the valley when he came to San +Juan." + +"Yes. Well, Teddy's married; he has married the woman who, you said, had +the face of some angel." + +"Not Angela, the senora who is Don Eduardo's English cousin?" + +The other nodded his head grimly. + +"But--" the old man stared at him sharply, and then suddenly recovered +himself. + +"Teddy says his wife wants to come down here while he is in Mexico," +grunted Bryton. "What the devil can I do with her if she comes now?" + +"You are a relative now--is it not so?" asked the old man, with an +affectionate smile. "She is your sister." + +"Sister be--" If he meant blessed, he did not look it as he tramped the +veranda. "I start just the same for the south ranch to-morrow. If she +comes, she can go to Mac's tavern, or to the Mission with the ghosts!" + +"That would not be good to do," said Alvara seriously. "The wife of your +brother must come to my house. Teresa, the widow of Miguel, is here; +her English is not anything, but it is good that your sister have a lady +with her in the house. Teresa, she feel very bad. Don Teddy's wife was +once a widow; she will understand." + +[Illustration: DONA ANGELA] + +"Will it make many changes in the business--his death?" asked Bryton. + +"It will lose the ranches more quickly to the English and the +Americans," stated the older man. "Rafael will have all the money now, +and--it is good that he gets married quick. The girl--she is Estevan's +daughter--she likes no English--so they say." + +"Oh!--Estevan's daughter--Estevan's! I heard a queer story of that name +once--a queer story!" + +"He left when the Americanos came to California. Always he fought +against the Americanos. He was a strong soldier, and he die there in +Mexico, and all his money is for the girl if she marry; for the convent +if she not marry at all." + +"It was another Estevan," said Keith. "It was a story of an old Aztec +temple that would make your hair curl! Might have been a relation of +your soldier Estevan." + +"There may be the same name in Mexico, but Felipe Estevan had no +brothers." + +Keith rolled a cigarro, and did not notice that the old man's hand +trembled as he did the same, and that his eyes were striving in vain to +appear careless. + +"My Spanish was pretty queer those days, and I did not grasp the details +of the story. You find all sorts of half-buried towns and temples and +palaces in the country--queer places no one on earth can tell who built. +But the temple was a plain fact. Stonework cut for all the world like +that," he added, pointing to the gray Mission ruin. "Zig-zags on the +cornices and Aztec suns just the same over the portals. There were great +old walls left, but no roof. Trees grew all through it, and right in the +open was something like a bench covered with queer Indian figures of +fight, and sacrifices, and the only one I ever saw down there carved out +of marble." + +"Yes--a bench of marble!" Alvara was listening intently, nodding his +head, and forgetting to smoke. + +"Well, an old miner down there told me a lurid story of the last Indian +sacrifice offered up on that altar. He found the body and helped to bury +it--the name was Estevan." + +"It is a good name," said the old man. + +"Fine! but wherever he had lived he was used to a different sort of +woman from the one he met at the old temple. She was of pure Spanish and +Aztec stock. The women in those temples don't usually appear to count, +but she came of a long line of Aztec priests. After the Catholic Church +got hold of them, they became Catholic priests instead of Aztec ones, +and served the same God under a different name." + +"So?" remarked Alvara. + +"It seems Estevan drifted into the country with considerable +money--cattle-man, I think; anyway, he had a ranch of some sort--and +fell dead in love with the sister of one of these hereditary priests, +and they were married. The old miner said a lot of queer old Indians +gathered from the Lord only knew where, and had a great bonfire and +crazy dances and ceremonies at the temple the night she was married. +They were waiting for a new priest of their own old religion to be born +some day and every marriage in that family was of interest." + +"Well?" + +"Well--I don't know how to make clear that there are wives in the world +to whom brown girls in the willows are--well--they are absolutely taboo +to the husbands--understand?" + +Alvara nodded silently. + +"This Estevan was not used to women like that. He was crazy over the +priest's sister till he got her, and then he was like many other men--he +went back to the brown girls." + +"And then?" + +"Then that old Aztec tribe seemed to hear of it on the wind--no one +knows. A brown girl was caught by the Indians one night, her long hair +cut short to her head; and the next day Estevan was found tied on that +altar with the same hair plaited into ropes. The heart had been cut from +the body and rested in a little urn or vase carved in the stone of the +wall. There were no other mutilations or signs of cruelty--it was more +like a pagan ceremony than anything else. The girl's hair was the only +clue as to what the cause might have been." + +"And the wife and the child--what did the man tell you of them?" + +"Child?" Keith stared at the old man. "I did not mention a child; never +heard there was one. The widow of Estevan entered a convent and was +never heard of again. The old miner said the priest took charge of the +property--for the Church, he supposed! I think of that old temple every +time I see the cactus and Aztec sun cut in this gray-green stone of your +church here; but I had forgotten the name of Estevan until you mentioned +it." + +"It is a good name," added Alvara again. "Felipe Estevan was wild and a +fighter, but he was not a bad man in California. He had no wife, and the +girls all wore beads he bought--but why not? He knew we have only one +life to live here!" + +"True, senor; and the story of the tragedy made me forget poor Teddy's +comedy--one I can't laugh at yet." + +"Some day you ask us to a wedding, and you will forget that marriage is +a madness," said Alvara. + +And then Dona Teresa came slowly out on the veranda in her many folds of +black. There was a hard glitter in her little black eyes, but her lips +curved ever so slightly in a courteous greeting as Keith Bryton bent +over her hand. + +"I hear how you telling that story, senor," she remarked, pleasantly. +"You think that it is good to tie a gentleman on a bench, and put his +heart on a shelf--no?" + +"Good? Why, it was the most ghastly heathenish thing I ever heard of. +But--" + +"But you Americanos think most of the women who do such things," she +persisted; "you think it better than to let him live where there are the +brown girls." + +"Oh--senora?" + +He saw that he had irrevocably damned himself in her eyes. She might +speak to him courteously through a long lifetime, but one of the +institutions of their pastoral life--an institution ignored by the usual +guest in the land--had been referred to in a sarcastic manner, and he +knew that never again could he expect the good will of Teresa Arteaga. +The allusion had been the most distant, the most unintentional, but at +the first word the blood of the Mexican was arrayed against the Gringo. + +"You think it well when that wife put the knife in the heart of the +husband?" she continued. "(Yes, Aguada, I will have a cup of orange +juice, and you may bring wine for the gentlemen.) You think your +American ladies do that same thing--no?" + +"Oh--the old miner never suggested that it was the woman did it--the +wife!" he protested. "It was thought to be the work of the old hill +tribe of Indians." + +"It was not alone the Indians," stated Dona Teresa, with sudden insight. +"Men would not think to tie him with girl's hair. No, it was the wife." + +Alvara looked at her warningly over his glass. + +"If there are such wives in Mexico, we hope they stay there," he said. +"Our own Indians make trouble enough for the padre and the alcalde. The +kind you tell of are best left with their tribes in the hills." + +For a little longer they talked of the new horses needed for the +frontier warfare, and touched upon the chance of the Capitan's stealing +them before they got across the divide. + +"But there is no danger even of El Capitan now, when the Senor Don +Bryton have put himself to help guard," remarked Teresa, eyeing him with +a cat-like glance to discover if her sarcasm was appreciated. "We all +feel very safe now in San Juan valley." + +"With those brilliant army officers in town, you certainly should," he +remarked, easily. "The women have always been the Capitan's best +friends, and the officers are cutting him out!" + +"He see too much--and he talk too much," said Teresa, as Bryton left +them and walked leisurely down the road toward the inn and post-office. + +"He means no harm," remarked Alvara. "The ways of the Americano are not +our ways, but I like him better than the army men. He makes no +scandals." + +"If the army men make love to the girls, they keep quiet about it," +returned Teresa. "But this man--he thinks himself too good for the +'brown girls' he talks of. Men who are too good should go to stay in the +church and pray for the sinners!" + +Alvara knew that no remark of Bryton's had been meant to reflect in the +least on social conditions in San Juan. But what use to argue with an +angry, jealous woman hunting for a grievance? + +The widow of Miguel had gone through the years of jealous bitterness, +the shock of Miguel's death, the knowledge that she would inherit but a +widow's share, the nerve-wrenching strain of a Mexican funeral, the +sight of her husband's Indian children beside the bier; but that had all +been in the midst of the people who understood--where house-servants +were often legacies to the estate from brother, or uncle, or cousin. But +this man, who told of a wife that revenged herself, had unconsciously +flung in her face a new standard; she hated him, and hated the sort of +women he knew in his own country,--the white-faced women who had snow in +their blood and did not understand! + +Bryton tried in vain to think what he had said to annoy Teresa so +exceedingly; could it have been his inquiring as to the estate? Surely, +she must know that many persons were asking the same questions. Her +brother-in-law, Rafael Arteaga, was such an uncertain quantity that +wagers were plentiful as to his management of the several ranches. If he +left them as Miguel had done, principally to the lawyers, it might not +be so bad, but Rafael's disposition to make his own bargains made older +people shake their heads. His mother, Dona Luisa, was old and ill. He +could have time to make very bad bargains before she could make the +journey from Mexico; and even then would she be physically able to take +note of business details? All those questions Bryton had heard talked +over and over. Also, the matter of the wedding,--would it be postponed +because of the funeral? No one knew whether Dona Luisa and the bride +were not on the way when the death occurred. Rafael had, it was +understood, come ahead that he might make the preparations for their +reception. A letter had also arrived saying that all things must be put +in order at the dwelling-rooms of the Mission; it stated that the +"donas"--the bride gifts--he had selected in Mexico might arrive any +day. They had come by sea to San Pedro, and San Juan was in quite a +flutter of excitement over its most important wedding in a generation. + +The alcalde met Bryton, and incidentally mentioned that it was a pity +the horse deal had not been held over for the week of the wedding; there +would be barbecues and horse races for the latter part of the week. + +"Sorry I can't stay," observed Bryton. "I'm keeping tab for the +contractor on those cavalry horses, and must stay with the bunch, at +least until they reach Los Angeles. Teddy has gone down into Mexico; if +he stays, I may follow." + +"Now that one of you boys is married, you should settle down and be a +permanent citizen of some district,--what is the matter with this +place?" + +"It's the most beautiful valley I ever saw," agreed Bryton. "But for +getting Teddy to locate sixty miles from town--never! And as to the +lady in the case, she will insist always on an audience more--" + +What more it would have to be was interrupted by the clatter of the +stage down the street, and on the seat beside the driver was a little +woman in pale blue flounces thick with dust, and a white hat with pink +rosebuds dancing and swaying with the rock of the stage. + +"God--" began Bryton, and then checked himself. + +The alcalde smiled. + +"Mrs. Ordway--or Mrs. Teddy Bryton now--looks pretty well satisfied with +this as a temporary audience," he remarked, as he sauntered across the +street to his own abode. Bryton's exclamation showed that he was by no +means pleased to see her, and the alcalde did not care to witness a +family reunion of that sort, so he walked away smiling. + +The lady waved her hand and flung a bright smile toward the half-brother +of her husband. He lifted his hat, but did not move from his tracks +until the horses came to a halt, brought suddenly to their haunches by +the driver, who was making a showy entrance into the village for the +gratification of the lady. + +"I've had a delightful trip from Los Angeles--thanks to Don Rafael," she +called, gaily. "I never--never expect to drive so fast again. Come and +help me down!" + +But the slender, handsome Mexican beside her had leaped to the ground, +and, sombrero in hand, was ready to perform that service before the +American reached the stage. + +"You are always the day after the fair, Keith," she remarked, her eyes +narrowing in a smile. "I am a thousand times obliged to Senor Arteaga!" + +"It is I who am honored, senora," he returned with a sweep of the +sombrero, and one brief yet steady look into her eyes. Mrs. Bryton +turned away with a pleased little smile, and proceeded to shake the dust +from the ruffles of her sleeve. + +Keith Bryton saw both the look and the smile, and it gave a tinge of +coldness to his greeting. + +"How do you do, Senor Arteaga?" he remarked. "Thank you for looking +after Mrs."--the word seemed hard to say--"Bryton. Are you adding +stage-driving to your other accomplishments?" + +Rafael Arteaga had caused too much jealousy in his day not to suspect he +recognized it in the attitude of the American, whom it was something of +a victory to outrival. + +"Only when there is extra precious cargo on board," he said, meaningly. +"American ladies are rare in San Juan. I was the only one present to +show our appreciation of such a visit." + +"But I am not an American--never in this world!" she insisted. "It was +only the accident of marriage took me to your Mexican America. I was +born in London, and am a subject of the Queen! Don't ever fancy me an +American!" + +"Few people will make that mistake," said Bryton, dryly. "I suppose you +know that your cousin and his wife are not here?" + +"Oh, yes, I discovered that through Senor Arteaga when I was part way +down. But he tells me the army men are here, and that there are always +dances, horse races, and a general festival while they stay. I thought +it might be worth while. Senor Arteaga will look after me if you are too +busy." + +"With many thanks for the honor, senora." + +"The barbecues are over," said Bryton; "they were rather subdued this +time, because of the funeral of Don Rafael's brother. I leave with the +army men to-morrow for a trip farther north, and you had best return to +Los Angeles, or go to your cousin in San Diego." + +She pretended to busy herself concerning a bandbox on which the cord had +broken, but her little white teeth bit into her lip. Rafael had entered +the post-office with the driver of the stage. + +"I am not interested in San Diego," she observed. "There must be +somewhere in this row of adobes a place where a lady could stay." + +"There is the tavern kept by Mac. You may be able to retain a room there +alone, if no other women stop over." + +"Share a room with strangers? But Don Rafael offered--" + +"Don Rafael has only several adobes here, where the vaqueros eat and +sleep--neither he nor his brother has lived here as a regular thing; +when they do, they share the house of the major-domo, who has an Indian +wife. The only privacy Don Rafael could assure you of would be to give +you the key of the Mission." + +"That graveyard! I must say you are not very brotherly, amigo--I learned +some more words of Spanish on the way down! Well, if I must go to the +awful tavern, I must! Do you suppose that villanous-looking +black-and-tan in the serape will carry my boxes into the hotel? You've +not said one civil word, Keith! Are Teddy and I to do the best we can +without your blessing?" she asked, mockingly. + +He looked at her slowly from head to foot, and back to her innocent +wide-open blue eyes. + +"I congratulate you," he said, briefly. "I will see that your +belongings are taken to your room. The gentleman in the serape chances +to be a Mexican Don, not accustomed to carting bandboxes." + +"You are not very cordial in your congratulations," she observed, as if +determined to break down his cold unconcern,--to make him _say_ +something. + +"No, I'm not," he agreed, tersely. "If Teddy had given me any idea of +it, you know he would not have been a married man now." + +"Oh, I knew you would be jealous, no matter whom he married," she +replied; "I told him so!" + +"So I supposed. But if you want to secure a room alone, you'd better not +delay. Apartments are rather at a premium in San Juan." + +He walked with her past the admiring group of prominent citizens toward +the patio of the inn. Several of the men swept sombreros to the earth as +she passed. The cousin of Don Eduardo was a lady they must show special +deference to, even if she had been ugly, which she certainly was not. + +Most of them envied the tall, rather good-looking fellow swinging along +by her side, but he did not seem as happy in the privilege as others +would have been. Alvara, seeing himself forgotten for Don Eduardo's +pretty blonde cousin, smiled a little, and continued his walk alone to +the corral. + +"She make him forget,--but she is not the woman," he said, shrewdly. + +Mrs. Bryton surveyed the coarse furnishings of the adobe with disgust as +she was led to the one room where she could secure sleeping +accommodation. It contained three beds with as many different-colored +spreads, queer little pillows, and drawn-work on one towel hanging on a +nail. The floor had once been tiled with square Mission bricks; but many +were broken, some were gone, and the empty spaces were so many traps for +unwary feet. Names of former occupants were scratched in the whitewashed +wall. There was no window, and but one door opening on the patio and to +be fastened from within by a wooden bar. + +"But this--there must be something better than this!" she exclaimed. + +"It is the one home where you could make yourself understood. The +proprietor chances to speak English. If you come without notifying +your--relatives, you must take what you find, or go on to San Diego. +Your cousin is there--also his wife." + +She shrugged her shoulders, and dropped wearily to a wooden bench. + +"I can't ride another mile--I'm dead tired. But you don't ask why I +came!" + +"That is your husband's affair, not mine," he returned. "If there is +nothing else I can do for you, I will go and look after my own affairs. +I start south in the morning." + +"Because I came?" she demanded, with a slight smile. At sight of it his +face flushed, and then the color receded while he regarded her steadily. + +"Don't make any mistake about that," he suggested. "I did leave town out +of impatience with another friend of mine, who was wasting his time with +you. Of course he would not listen to me, and he has evidently told you. +I liked him, and did not want to see him made a fool of." + +"Oh, you are a silly!" she replied, unfastening her hat-string and +glancing at him strangely. "It never was that man for one little minute; +you, of all the men, ought to know." + +"I, of all the men, have been the one who did not guess that it was +Teddy," he retorted. "But since it is, there is one thing to +remember,--Teddy is the best fellow in the world, and the easiest mark, +and you are not to forget it!" + +"I did not promise to honor and obey you!" she retorted, petulantly. + +"But if you don't in this case--" he halted abruptly and walked away. +Her high, sweet voice called after him, but he did not turn his head. He +evidently realized that he had come very near threatening her; and, +after all, if Teddy chose to make a fool of himself for a pretty doll-- + +For she was undeniably pretty, and she had created quite a flurry a year +before when she reached San Pedro by steamer from Mexico, a girlish +widow with one child, and waited there until the English cousin of her +husband, Eduardo Downing, had been notified and came up in state from +his ranches, with his Mexican wife, to receive her. + +One child more or less never made any difference on the ranch of +Eduardo, and his wife rather liked the little white doll that was alive, +for her own brown-skinned grandchildren to play with. It was better than +an Indian baby--more of a novelty, so that the family affairs of the +young widow were easily adjusted. She accepted invitations to visit +friends of her cousin on ranches and in town. For a year she had earned +the reputation of being a rather gay flirt, and she could have married +several times. Keith Bryton's friends had more than hinted that she was +waiting for him, and when the word went abroad that it was his +half-brother, eyes were opened wide in Los Angeles. There were lifted +brows, and smiles. Keith knew how the marriage would be commented upon, +and he was filled with rage that she should assume at once her +care-free attitude, and fraternize with Rafael Arteaga, as she evidently +had done on the ride down. And Teddy trusted her absolutely--good old +Teddy, who had been infatuated from the first sight of her, and had +loved without hope until lately, very lately indeed! + +They had been married on the eve of his trip to Mexico. His letter, +written that night, and given her to mail, had been held back by the +bride until she was ready to follow it on the next stage. What mad idea +had she in thus coming to the last village likely to be attractive to +her? Was it to enjoy her victory?--to show him that his years of +devotion to Teddy went for nothing when she chose to turn the light of +her countenance his way? + +Something like that it must have been,--the freakish defiance of a +spoiled child. Not innocent, despite the big baby-blue eyes, but too +ignorant of social conditions in this Mexican town for him to leave her +to the guardianship of Rafael Arteaga when he should ride away +to-morrow. The only American men in the place were unmarried. For +Teddy's sake he must see that she went too. For Teddy's sake--that was +the devil of it! + +Rafael was lounging in the door of the post-office smoking, when Bryton +emerged from the patio. There was a smile in his eyes as he noted the +annoyed face of the American. + +"I was waiting for you, amigo," he said, walking beside him. "I have no +wish to object to the hotel of our friend Mac; but I believe it may be +possible to secure a better place for senora, your sister. The widow of +my brother is still here, Mac has just told me. I can turn over to them +a house of plenty of room to-morrow." + +"Many thanks to you, Don Rafael; but the lady will probably remain only +until the next stage passes. It will not be necessary to inconvenience +any of your people." + +He nodded good-naturedly and left Rafael at the gate of Alvara. Teresa +was yet on the veranda, interested in the one event of the day, the +arrival of the stage, and the lady who was its most noticeable +passenger. Alvara did not think it could have been Don Eduardo's cousin, +for if so, surely Senor Bryton would have brought her at once to the +Alvara home. Teresa, on the other hand, insisted that it was the English +cousin; she had seen her once, and was sure that no other white woman +would look so much like a white doll. + +They at once appealed to Rafael to settle the question. Teresa pushed a +chair toward him and suggested a glass of wine. + +"Thou art tired, of course, and choked with the dust; a desert wind +blew to-day! And who was your pretty senorita? Don Juan Alvara and I +could not agree; he said it could not be the cousin of Don Eduardo, or +she would certainly have accepted the very kind invitation he gave her +to live here while waiting for her relations." + +"Invitation?" Rafael looked quickly from one to the other. "I am very +sure Senora Bryton failed to receive your invitation. She confessed +herself in despair if her cousin should not be here on her arrival." + +"But Senor? Bryton was told to bring her here." + +"Oh--h!" He was silent a moment and then he smiled reassuringly. "I see +how it is! He thinks she will remain over only one day and does not like +to put you to trouble; but the poor lady down there alone is no doubt +very uncomfortable--perhaps unhappy. If your daughters could call and +see her--I would accompany them. In fact, for the cousin of Don Eduardo +I will do anything I may be allowed to do." + +"Sure," agreed Alvara; "it is the right thing for a lady to ask her;--if +only Dolores and Madalena have not ridden to the beach--" + +He went into the house to see, and Teresa looked at Rafael and shrugged +her shoulders. + +"Thou hast told a part, but not all, my Rafael," she said, quietly. "Is +the so good Senor Bryton not so good at last? Does he want his +brother's wife to see only himself?" + +"You don't like him?" he said, quickly. + +"Well--if not?" + +"Then we could play him a fine trick--fine! He is jealous, that is all. +She rode down with me, and of course, when I learned who she was, we +talked--you saw! Well, our Americano likes to be the only man. He means +to send her away to-morrow,--he is so angry because she marry his +brother! Of course she goes, unless we keep her. It would be a good +trick to play if we could walk down there, and--" + +"We will go," decided Teresa, promptly; "at once we will go before he +comes back from the corral. His brother's wife--eh? I ask myself if +those people--the Americanos--are so much better than our own men, +Rafael. I want no scandal and will help you with none; but if you take +from him the woman he wants, I will make you a present--a fine one." + +"It is a bargain!" he agreed. "I promise to earn the gift. He is a good +enough fellow, but much too conceited; we will cure him!" + +As Alvara came out on the veranda to tell them Dolores and Madalena were +away, and to ask Teresa to call on the stranger in their stead, Teresa +and Rafael were on the street. + +"It is a good thing to do," he thought, contentedly rolling a cigarro +and looking after them. "It is a kindness to Don Eduardo's cousin, and +it is good for Teresa. For the first time since the death of Miguel she +is smiling. Yes, it is a good thing." + +When Bryton left the corrals, the evening had come; the afterglow was +flooding the hills with pale rose, and Indian boys were driving home +cows through the village street. The more time he had to consider the +matter, the more impatient he grew at the reckless disregard of his new +sister-in-law for the conventionalities. + +Since she had married Teddy, she might at least have remained decently +and quietly where he had left her. Or she might have continued her +journey and joined her cousin at San Diego; but to do so mad a thing as +to stop off here--he determined she should go either north or south +to-morrow, if he had to carry her to the stage. He would tell her so at +once. + +He had arrived at that determination as he crossed the plaza and heard +her laugh through the door of Alvara's house. The door was open; she was +trying to teach Alvara English, at which his daughters laughed very +much. It was the sharp eyes of Teresa that caught sight of Bryton first, +as he involuntarily halted in the road. + +"Yes, Senor Bryton, it is all true; we have robbed the Senor Mac's hotel +of your sister!" she called to him with a new air of elation,--of +victory. + +Alvara appeared and invited him to supper, which he declined for a +previous engagement with Don Antonio. His sister-in-law came out and +listened to his excuses, and smiled quietly at him with the baby-blue +eyes, in which he read a certain defiance. + +"I would have smothered in that awful cell you took me to!" she pouted. +"These people are charming to me; they are friends of Cousin Edward's. +It was Don Rafael took them to me. He looks like a hero in a +picture-book! How does it come I never met him before?" + +"Perhaps because during your last visit down here he was in Mexico, +making love to the girl he is to marry very soon." + +"Oh! is _that_ why you are guarding him so carefully?" she said, +laughingly. "Well, since I am married, I am willing to stay and dance at +his wedding; but, Keith, if I had seen him first--" + +She broke off, laughing at the quick anger in his eyes. + +And Teresa, listening, understood the game of Rafael and the mocking +laughter, and the anger of Bryton, and was as happy as she was likely to +be, with Miguel under the ground. + +[Music: _Danza Mexicana._] + + + + +CHAPTER III + + +Many things had happened, and it had been a bad day. "A day cursed of +God!" said Pedro Gallardo, the driver; and against such ill fortune the +carriage of Senora Luisa Arteaga made such progress as might be, from +San Luis Rey to San Juan. + +Clouds had drifted along the mountains each night for a week, and never +the ranges a bit the better for it, until the cavalcade of Dona Luisa +had started north from San Diego; and then--well, it was not what you +would call a rain, it was a torrent came down. The skies had opened, and +a deluge followed. + +Then, after leaving San Luis Rey, a carriage-pole must break in an +attempt at a runaway, and two horses were lost over that, to say nothing +of the off leader, whose "sire had been the devil, and whose dam had +been a witch thrice accursed in the foaling!" Their joint offspring +had demonstrated his infernal lineage by breaking his own leg as well as +the carriage-pole, and another untamed beast had to be roped on the +range--hog-tied, and blindfolded to get the harness on him; and because +of him Pedro's throat was fairly blistered with curses. + +As the wheels sank into the sands or plunged from one ravine into +another, Dona Luisa prayed and trusted to the saints that she might see +her own valley again, and her companion, Dona Jacoba, protested, and +forgetting to pray, waxed argumentative. + +"Raquel was right, Luisa," she repeated for the twentieth time between +her groans; "we had been wise to wait at San Diego for Rafael. She has +an old head on her shoulders--you will have a wise daughter when the day +comes." + +"Wise! Yes--yes!" moaned Dona Luisa, shaking her head. "I thank the +Virgin for that, every day, for Rafael is young, Jacoba; a baby of a +wife would be his ruin. Yet--a baby might love him!" + +"Our boys get love enough!" grunted Jacoba, thinking of her own sons, +and her own troubles. "They need wives with sense; and our girls all go +wild these days about the Americanos, so--" + +[Illustration: RAQUEL ESTEVAN] + +"The girls, too!" and Dona Luisa's tones were strident with censure. "It +is bad enough when men must buy and sell with the Americanos in the +markets; but the girls,--the women of California,--it is in their hands +to shut the door when the Americano knocks--is it not so?" + +"Oh, yes, of course--yes--it is as you say," agreed Jacoba, weakly, as +she thought of the many girls of their relationship, who had opened +doors very wide indeed for the Americanos, and of not a few who were to +open also the door of the Church. But who could tell Dona Luisa that? + +"Rafael is all I have left, now that Miguel is killed," continued the +mother. "My only grandchildren are half-breeds, and only Rafael is left. +Ai! it is hard to grow old,--to let go all lines. But you know what +makes me happy, Jacoba? No? It is this one big thing. Raquel will be +what I was. She may suffer, but she will stand square on her feet; and +she will fight as her father fought--and it will be for California." + +"You think so?" asked Jacoba, doubtfully. "It may be so, but--do you +expect strong fights from a girl who was half a nun? I say she knows too +little of the world to fight it." + +"You take from me my one hope when you say that!" and the older woman +put out her hand appealingly. "Our men are wild--always! It is the +women's work to save them. The death of Miguel is making me think much +and quick. Rafael must be marry. There must be no more Indio women and +children." + +Jacoba glanced doubtfully at her friend. These five years, while Rafael +had been learning California ranch life, Jacoba had lived near enough to +hear much that she never could repeat to the old mother, whose life was +so nearly spent, whose weakness and prejudices could never cope with the +new life in the changed land--and of what use to torture her with the +truth? She wished with all her heart the exile had elected to stop over +at San Diego or San Luis Rey, until some little glimmer of present +conditions should enlighten her. + +"It is well the _donas_ came by water," she remarked, eager to find some +straw of comfort in the situation. "Even extra baggage would be a care, +with these roads and troubles, to say nothing of the temptation to El +Capitan! Thanks to God, he never yet has had record of troubling women +on the road." + +"He was a fine boy," said Dona Luisa, musingly. "It is not his fault +that he is an outlaw to these States. It means only that he is patriot +to California. He was a fine boy." + +"Ask thy son how fine he thinks El Capitan!" remarked Jacoba. "Rafael +has paid him a heavy tax in his best stock. They have long ago +forgotten they are cousins." + +"Raquel will make him remember," said the older woman, with certainty. +"Did he not fight as he was able beside her father? Ai! he fought for +California when only a boy. Do Californians forget?" + +"He does not let them do so," remarked Jacoba dryly. "Much has changed, +Luisa." + +"I see no change, only the Indios more poor. The hills are green, as +always after the rains. All these ranges are the same like we rode over +them forty years ago. The hills and the sea never change, only the +people. It is good to hear there is one of the young left who thinks in +the old way." + +"But--holy Maria!--we were never robbers, Luisa!" + +"Well, we did not need to be," returned her friend. "But I tell you +truly, Jacoba, I could find it in my heart to forgive a son who fought +the Americanos as he does, even if they made him outlaw. He could not be +outlaw to the Church, nor to me." + +Jacoba said no more. Of what use was it to tell her that a few such +women would be firebrands in the land if they had youth, and that the +American soldiers, instead of coming peacefully to buy stock and pay +good prices, would come from Los Angeles shooting,--would come with +torches to burn each town where rebels hid. It was no longer little +internal wars, such as they used to have in the days they both +remembered, when the men who smoked or played together one month would +fight under different leaders the next. + +There were no faction fights now. It was one great ugly pale nation to +the east, trailing slowly over the ranges and planting itself like the +live-oak in the canyons. The Mexicans might hate, might curse; but the +curses made no difference against the heretics. They had no churches, +and they laughed at the beautiful wooden saints in the old chapel. Had +not some of them snuffed out candles on the graves with their accursed +rifles, last All Souls' Day? Yet the sky had not fallen, and no +earthquake had come! What would even prayers or holy Church do against a +people so ignored by God? + +But Jacoba knew there was no use to fight. She remembered what that +meant in the other days. In an old adobe of San Juan's one street she +had helped as a girl to nurse the wounded of San Pascual. It was years +ago, but she had not forgotten the cruel wounds, or the young Americano +who died in her arms there. She had never mentioned to any the reason of +her hatred for war; for even with revenge in reach, on whom would she +seek it?--on her brother who had killed a stranger forcing their gates? + +"You do not forget how the blessed Junipero Serra himself spoke from the +altar of San Juan in the old days, Luisa; our grandfather telling us +that many times,--how, when the Spanish guard was hard with the Indios, +he stood on the altar and say that a new people will come and put the +foot on the neck of the Mexican like the Mexican tramp on the Indios. He +say it, and cry--cry for the reason that the good God no can make their +hearts more soft to the Indios. I think of that when I see the +Americanos come. They not put the foot on the neck--but they are here!" + +"Father Junipero was old then--very old--like a child, and would make of +the Indios babies to be petted," returned Dona Luisa, leniently. "He was +a saint--not a man; only the saints could have the patience with those +Indios--I remember! One of the old scares of the padre's was that the +water would fail us; yet San Juan still has its river!" + +Jacoba nodded. They were likely to find the river a difficulty after the +rainfall. The ford was not a good one in high water; but the thought of +getting across the ford was a trifle compared to the difficulty of +impressing Dona Luisa with any idea of the change she would find in the +land she had known. + +In sheer despair she returned once more to a safer subject, Raquel +Estevan,--Raquel the wise, who was to marry with Rafael and forever +build a wall about him from American influence; Raquel, who might not +love, because of that dark shadow of the cloister, but who would be all +the more wise for that! Still, who could tell? + +"When one is young like that, one never can be sure until the right man +comes," said Jacoba; "and she is handsome, your Raquel. But is it true +what they say, that there was the blood of the old Mexican Indios in her +mother?" + +Dona Luisa did not commit herself; yet she realized that Raquel Estevan +might have a few battles to fight along the line of race, as well as +against the Americanos; for of course Rafael was a favorite; of course +there would be burning hearts and jealousy at first. + +[Illustration: KEITH BRYTON] + +[Music: _Esta Noche_] + + Esta noche voy a verte, + Al otro lado del rio + Te encargo que estes despierta ay! + Para quando te haga (_se silva_) + Ay! Paloma, daca el pico De ese rico manantial, + Ay! Paloma, daca el pico De ese rico manantial! + +[Music] + + + + +CHAPTER IV + + +From Las Flores, where the Indian village still held together in a +shiftless sort of way, Raquel Estevan and her friend Ana Mendez galloped +north mile on mile over the mesa above the sea. + +"Art never tired, Raquel?" demanded the older and darker of the two as +they halted to let their animals drink where a rivulet ran full from the +foothills. "Since we left the ranch house thou hast never lessened the +gallop." + +"Tired? I should shame to acknowledge that, when Dona Luisa never rests +on the way. She endures it all, while only the young ones complain." + +"Endures! What would she not endure for her beloved Rafael--now your +beloved Rafael?" + +Ana was not malicious, but there was a touch of mockery in her tone and +questioning glance. + +"Why should he not be beloved?" asked the other, smoothing carefully +the mane of her horse and bending low to conceal the slight flush of +cheek. "Is he not handsome and good?" + +"It is not easy to be good when a man is so handsome," laughed Ana; +"still, I will take your word for it! But, Raquel, you always get clear +of the question; not once have you said that you find him beloved. Are +you going to be coquette to the wedding-day?" + +"You talk to amuse yourself," and the violet dark eyes were lifted an +instant. "You learn to coquette when you marry, and cannot forget; but +the nuns never teach us that." + +"What need?" and Ana showed her white teeth in a laugh. "They did not +teach us we must breathe to live; yet some way we learned it! But +confess! You outride all the party to reach San Juan, and Rafael; yet +how are we sure what urges you?" + +"My promise." + +"But why the promise, if the man is not beloved? You have had no harsh +guardian, as I had; you were all free." + +"Free? Oh yes, I had always the choice between some husband and the veil +of a nun. And then--then Dona Luisa came with her love and her son, and +her great plans of good work I could do out in the world. And so--and +so we are riding to meet him, and I outride you!" + +"I never hasten to trouble," remarked Ana Mendez; "and if we should meet +him on the way, you would send me at once to the carriage. I should put +in hours listening to the virtues of Rafael Arteaga and peril my soul +pretending to agree with his mother." + +"Why should you do that?" + +"Raquel, do you really see how little the ideas of Don Rafael and his +mother agree? I know little enough--thanks to California, which keeps +its girls from education; but I do see that every thought of Rafael +Arteaga is for the new ways, the ways of the Americano." + +The younger girl drew up her horse with a cruel jerk, and faced her +friend. + +"Anita, beloved," she said, sadly, "you have said the thing I felt, but +did not know. Why not let some less dear one tell me?" + +"Holy Maria! Who else would? You are going among strangers, but you are +no more a stranger to the California of to-day than is Dona Luisa. I +hope all the time some one tell you at San Diego, or at San Luis Rey, +but no one does; and Rafael does not meet us; and--" + +"The letter did not reach him, or else he has gone by boat," said the +other, steadily. "Anita, why do you sometimes seem not quite friendly to +Rafael? Your words--" + +"Never think it!" cried Ana. "We are friends enough, but--I know him +better than his mother--that is all! He has turned the heads of many +girls, but I do not think he has turned yours, Raquelita!" + +The other girl made no reply. + +"I do not think so," continued her friend, "because you have never once +lost sight of duty,--the duty Dona Luisa and the padre have taught you +to see. You are good, Raquel,--when you are not in a temper; but about +Rafael you do not think your own thoughts. You dream of the life of your +father and Dona Luisa when all this land was theirs. But the dream is +gone, and to-day we wake up." + +"I see--the old world was too slow. You wake up to be all +Americano--no?" + +"Raquel, do you hate them as much as Dona Luisa?" + +The girl from Mexico turned her face toward the sea, and did not answer +at once. Then she said: + +"Only once in my life have I spoken with an Americano, and I did not +hate him." + +"A young man?" + +"He--he was not old," she confessed. + +"On my soul, I believe you have had a lover!" cried Ana. "Oho! you can +play Rafael at his own game, after all! Santa Maria! I thought you were +too pretty to be the saint they think you. Tell me!" + +"There is not anything to tell," said the younger girl, quietly, though +the color crept to her cheek; and then after a little she added, "He +died. I never saw him but once; the padre said I was wrong to--to--oh, +they said things to me about heretics! I never knew any other, and I +promised not to. But if he had lived I should not have promised; that is +all." + +"All! Rafael would think it enough! On my soul, I am glad you are so +human--though I have no love myself for heretics!" + +"Human!" mused Raquel. "Is it human to remember, when one should forget +and cannot?" + +She did not say it aloud, and refused to discuss the matter further. + +"He is dead," she said; "Rafael cannot be jealous of a man I saw but +once; it was only the dream of a girl--like a picture in a book--and the +page is closed. I shall marry Rafael, and work in the world instead of +in the convent. It is for Mother Church and--it is right!" + +At San Onofre the surf was breaking against the cliffs. It was high +tide, and the beach road was deep enough for a horse to swim. Raquel +had ridden far ahead, and now stood on the brink of a torrent cutting +its way down from the hills to the sea. + +The girl glanced back at the swaying chariot-like carriage on a far +hill, and wondered what would be expected of their broncos in this +crisis. + +The animal she herself rode danced and fretted with fright at the roar +of the surf and the dash of the hill stream, but she sat the saddle with +ease, answering to every curve or side leap as lightly as a gull that +floated on the incoming wave. + +Her face held something of the power suggested by her strong right hand. +The eyes were so soft, yet steady, and of darkest violet. The black +lashes touching her cheeks gave them tender shadows, and the hair, in +two thick braids reaching to her waist, framed a face of youthful curves +and charm. But what was it made every man, and many women, turn to look +again at the face of Raquel Estevan? + +Many girls were as beautiful, but something beyond the beauty of feature +or color was in her strange half-Egyptian face,--a certain barbaric note +held in check by the steady eyes and the mouth firm yet tender. It was a +mouth made for love; yet--was it the shadow of the dark veil she had so +nearly worn? Was it a hint of regret for the cloistered life left +behind? Or was it the shadow of some future--a prophecy of the years to +come? + +Ana paused at the edge of the stream, in terror at the volume of water +barring their way on every side. + +"Ai! ai! And Aunt Jacoba but a moment ago declaring that she will have +her supper in the refectory of the San Juan Mission. Neither Mission nor +supper can we see this night--and no Rafael!" + +She turned dismayed though roguish eyes on Raquel. + +"He did not expect us when the rains came," said Raquel with quiet +certainty. "If he received Dona Luisa's letter, he has gone by sea to +San Diego. Did she not say so, Anita?" + +"Oh, he can do much, your handsome Rafael," agreed Ana, "but he cannot +yet stop the tide, or dam La Christienita! Such a dry bed in Summer! and +now it is a river." + +"But not deep?" hazarded Raquel. "Not so deep as the carriage bed." + +"Deep? There is one ford that is safe if one knows it; but, Holy Maria! +on each side are pits of a depth to drown us all!" + +"Oh, if there is a good ford to be found--" The rest of Raquel's +sentence was drowned in Ana's shrieks of protest, as her horse was +spurred into the torrent in search of the roadway safe for a carriage. + +Ana was right; there were pits, and there were great round bowlders on +the edges of them. The horse stumbled on one, recovered, and stumbled +again where the current swung into a whirlpool; and then, as the water +roaring in her ears almost drowned Ana's screams, a sharp authoritative +voice sounded from the bank-- + +"Loose the stirrup!" + +Raquel did so mechanically, just as a rope circled about her shoulders, +pinning her arms to her sides, and with a quick, cruel jerk she was +wrenched from the saddle; and as her horse, relieved of her weight, swam +straight for the opposite shore, she felt herself caught by a strong arm +and lifted across another saddle. The man with the reata had caught her +first, lest she be dragged downward into the whirlpool, but it was +another man who dashed through the whirl of waters and bore her to the +shore, where half a dozen men waited. They were evidently vaqueros; one +of them had thrown the reata, and hastened now to loosen it, to lift her +from her rescuer and stand her on her feet. She swayed a trifle, and +reaching blindly for support, she caught the arm of a man beside her, +the one who had lifted her from the water. Then for the first time she +noticed that he wore the garb of a priest, evidently a secular priest, +for he wore a beard, and even then it struck her as strange that he +looked so bronzed and rugged. His grasp was that of a rider of the +range, rather than a priest of the Church. + +"Father, the Virgin have you in her keeping! You saved my life then. I +shall always--always--" + +Then she could no longer distinguish priest from vaquero; the earth +seemed to meet the sky, and between them she was extinguished. + +When she awoke she no longer could hear the screams of Ana, and the red +rays of the lowering sun touched the face of the priest as he bent over +her. It had more of youth than she had at first perceived. + +"Lie you still," he said, as one used to command. "The water was rough +with you, and the reata rougher. Swallow some of this wine; it came from +your own carriage, and is better than ours." + +"From the carriage?" The carriage was on the opposite side of the +stream, but her horse had followed her and was tied near, shaking +himself like a great dog. + +"Yes. I sent one of the boys--the vaqueros--across. Your friends know +you are safe, but the carriage cannot come over--not yet; you have had +good fortune to get out." + +"The good fortune was to find you here, father," she said, and catching +his hand she kissed it reverently. "It is a good omen and shows me a +blessing is on my journey to my father's land. You may have known him by +name. I am Raquel Estevan, and it was my father Felipe who once owned +this land from mountain to sea." + +"Felipe Estevan--you! But that cannot be. He is dead, and his one child +is in religion--I was told so--I--" + +The color came back to her face, and she raised herself on her elbow. + +"It is true--I was for the Church--but I will tell you all--some time!" + +"Go on," said the priest, authoritatively, "tell me now!" + +"I was told it was better to work for God out in the world," she said, +softly, "and so I am coming with my Aunt Luisa, father's cousin, and--" + +"And--" he looked at her strangely. "Then it is you--you they bring to +marry with Rafael Arteaga. Holy Mary! And it is Felipe's +daughter--Felipe Estevan--who sold for a song rather than live under the +Americanos; and it is for his daughter I wait here by San Onofre--for +his daughter!" + +Raquel stared at his evident agitation, not understanding. The sentences +of the padre sank to muttering beneath the black beard, as he turned and +strode away. The vaqueros, standing together holding their horses as if +eager to be gone, exchanged wondering glances and eyed the girl +curiously. Directly he came striding back and halted beside her. + +"Yet you marry with Rafael Arteaga," he said, accusingly. "You are +Felipe's daughter, yet you are much Americano--eh? You are of the +States, is it not so? Between you two, old California will no longer +have foot-room from San Jacinto to the water out there. God!" and he +ground his heel into the turf. "Yet are you Felipe's daughter, and we +must let you go!" + +"No!" she cried as vehemently as he. "I go nowhere from the rules of my +father in this land. The things he loved I love; the things he fought +for I will guard! It is for that, father, I marry with Rafael. He is--he +is not so much for old California, I know--I hear! His mother is afraid; +she grieves over that much! But the two of us--the two of us, with your +prayers to help, and we keep him always for our father's country--always +till he die--with your help!" + +"With my--help?" + +"Your prayers, father! You will see I am Felipe Estevan's daughter, even +while I am born in Mexico. I will do what a son would do for our land +and our Church. You will see--you will see! It is a blessing from God +that you meet me here like this at the edge of the land. Always I have +thought these thoughts in my heart, but only to you--a priest--could I +say them in words, and it is well you meet me here like this. Your words +are the words I needed to make me see what I want to do. It is like a +baptism that I went under that water a girl, and your hand lift me out a +woman! The Virgin sent me here this day that I meet you. You have opened +the gate of the land for Felipe Estevan's daughter." + +He leaned against the trunk of a young live-oak and stared at her with a +derisive smile in the smoke-black eyes. + +"Yes, the Virgin sent me," he said at last, "and she came near sending +me too late. The trail is bad along La Christienita for the night-time, +and the night is close. The man will take you back to your friends." + +"But you, father? You come to the carriage and see the mother of +Rafael--no? They wait for us. Dona Luisa is so very old; she will be +anxious till she speak with me--and with you." + +She arose and held out her hand. He regarded her strangely, and shook +his head. + +"The men have other work than to camp with a pleasure party. I stay on +this side and have far to travel before sunrise. This once I talk with +you--maybe nevermore, and to San Juan you take one message for Rafael +Arteaga." + +"A message? Yes?" + +"Tell him Felipe Estevan's daughter has saved to him this once a +treasure; but no woman can guard him always, for--El Capitan is never +too far to come quickly!" + +"Oh--Capitan?" she said with sudden comprehension. "I was told at San +Luis Rey how much he is the enemy of Rafael. But it must not be, father. +Cannot we help that? I have heard of Capitan from an old soldier of the +wars, who told me all I know of my father: he was a brave boy and--he +fought beside my father. I remembered that when I passed his mother's +grave at San Luis Rey--it will never be bare and forgotten again--never! +I planted it thick with the passion-vine. Dona Luisa tells me she was a +great woman. She prays that some day the two cousins may be friends." + +"Dona Luisa prays for what only the good God could make happen," said +the priest, grimly. "But of course all things are possible to the good +God, even in the land which God forgot. Fidele is waiting." + +He made a movement toward the Mexican holding her horse, and without +further words mounted another animal himself, and galloped away along +the fringe of trees skirting the canyon. Several of the others followed. +Only three remained to watch Fidele pilot his charge across the ford, +where the ford was safe though deep; and once her animal's feet touched +the opposite bank, her attendant, with a sweep of sombrero, but no +words, wheeled his own horse and fell in line after his comrades, who +were disappearing one by one toward the mountains. + +Raquel Estevan sat her horse at the edge of the stream and stared after +them, giving little heed to the shrill calls and exclamations of the +women. Even after they had stripped her of the soaked riding-dress and +wrapped her in serapes for the night, she maintained a thoughtful +silence, and all Ana's hints of romances went for nought, so far as +gaining replies or special notice. + +What treasure had Felipe Estevan's daughter saved for Rafael Arteaga? +And why--why--that strange intensity of the priest? These questions were +turned again and again in her mind as she lay there in the light of the +camp-fire watching the stars move across the high blue. The other three +women were sleeping as best they could in the carriage, smothered in +serapes. Jacoba lamented every waking moment, because of much-feared +rheumatism,--she was so certain it would mean a camp at the hot springs +for a month, just at the time of the wedding! + +Dona Luisa made no complaint. When told the carriage could not by any +means cross safely, she braced herself for the ordeal of the night, and +Raquel, glancing toward her, could see her face gray-white in the +gathering dusk. All the night that gray profile met her eyes, for she +slept not at all. + +The driver had stretched himself where his horses were tethered, but the +two Indian boys who rode with the carriage kept a fire of aliso boughs +burning. They would nod at times with sleepiness, but the whispered +command of the girl ever wakened them quickly, and the dying fire would +blaze again. There was no conversation, only brief commands and prompt +obedience; and thus the girl passed the first night in the land of her +father, the roar of the sea and the wild calls of the coyotes keeping +silence from the night. + +When the coyotes ceased and the birds heralded dawn, one Indian boy rode +across at the ford and gauged the depth of the water on his cow-pony's +legs. It was "muy bueno"--very good indeed, the water had gone down a +foot, and before the dawn broke, the whole cavalcade was again under +way. There was breakfast to ride for, and it was several miles across +the hills. + +Pedro was of the opinion that there was a round-up in the canyon of La +Paz, about half-way to San Juan. If so, there might be "carne oeco" and +coffee to be had--perhaps tortillas. The vaqueros would be eating by +dawn, but if it was possible to drive fast, there might be hope of +coffee at least. + +So Raquel rode ahead, alert at the coming day and the promise of it. Ana +was glad to stay in the carriage with the older women, complaining that +she had caught cold from the sea-damp. At one bend of the road she +noticed Raquel far ahead, bending low over the neck of her horse, +scanning the ground. Then she turned out of sight under the live-oaks in +a narrow canyon, and came galloping back to the main trail as the +carriage came up. + +"One would think you were searching the sand for grains of gold washed +down from the mountains!" called Ana; but the girl shook her head, and +rode thoughtfully up the incline to the mesa above. She had been noting +the curious fact that the party of vaqueros and the priest had left the +trail one by one, heading toward the hills wrapped still in the mist of +the morning. + +[Music: _El Charro_.] + + Nescesito buen caballo, + Buena Silla, y buen gaban. + + + + +CHAPTER V + + +At La Paz they were in time for coffee, and Raquel, who had ridden ahead +with an Indian boy, was told a strange story by the Mexican cook. + +A good breakfast had been cooked, but the devil had got among the horses +in the night; there had been a stampede--or something. Every one had got +into the saddle and ridden that way--up the river,--no one had come back +to tell him what it meant or to eat the breakfast that was ready. It was +cold now, all but the coffee, but they were welcome to it. + +He was a newcomer in the land, and had never heard of the Dona Luisa. To +the cholo the lady or the lord of the land is often an unknown +personality; their representative, the major-domo, is the centre of +their little universe. + +But as the carriage came lurching down from the mesa, the oldest of the +vaqueros, a very black Indian, rode back to camp, and at sight of Dona +Luisa's face white and drawn in the morning light, he slid from his +bronco, and ignoring the cook's impatient questions stood with bent head +uncovered, until the old mistress noticed him and spoke. + +"You are Benito, are you not?" she asked, as she brought him to the +carriage with a gesture, and rested her hand on his to alight. + +"Yes, senora," said the old man with grave courtesy, though trembling +with pleasure at the honor she chose to bestow; "I am Benito. I used to +break all the horses you rode. No one else was let put a hand on them. +You do not forget; I thank you." + +"I could not forget the things of my home. Is there coffee? I am very +glad." + +She held her left hand against her side, and the women exchanged +frightened glances at her pallor and the strange weakness of her voice. +While she drank the hot coffee Jacoba deftly drew the old vaquero aside +to look at a bit of broken carriage harness which Pedro was mending with +rawhide. + +"Benito, is there no boy here to ride fast to the Mission?" she demanded +when out of hearing of the others. "Our Dona Luisa is a sick woman, and +no one dare say it. Some one must go and have a bed ready--everything!" + +"There is no boy here. The horses were run off last night by Juan Flores +or Capitan--no one knows how many. All the men have gone that way. I +ride to the Mission. Don Rafael, he go to San Diego to-day." + +"To-day? Santa Maria! he may have gone! Ride fast!" + +"He not go yet," and the old man shrugged his shoulders. "Too early. +Army men going away. Don Rafael make barbecue yesterday, and last night +he have a big dance for the Americanos in the Mission." + +"Hush! Ride fast! We will drive as slow as she will let us. But tell Don +Rafael Arteaga I say for him to meet his mother on the road." + +Raquel noticed the old man cantering slowly along the level green, and +heard the sound of his horse galloping rapidly once he was out of sight +past the fringe of sycamores and low growths along the river. + +"For what is that, Jacoba?" she asked. + +"Oh, some bandits have run off some horses--they may send more +vaqueros," she replied as easily as she could with the girl watching her +like that. + +Raquel looked as though she thought all the truth might not be in the +reply, but she turned quietly away. + +"I would have ridden with him if I had known," she said, and went back +to Dona Luisa, who was so eager to continue the journey that she would +wait for no breakfast but the coffee. + +"Cut another strap of the harness and take time to mend it," muttered +Jacoba to Pedro; "we are not all so near to being angels that we can +live without eating." + +Thus was a little more time gained. + +Benito made the second crossing where the river bends around the mesa, +and there met one of the boys from the village looking for a pair of +strayed mules. + +"The Don Rafael--he has started for San Diego?" demanded Benito. "Turn +and ride with me, Jose." + +The boy did so, grinning. + +"When Don Rafael wake up to-day he much too late to go to San Diego," he +said, and the old man uttered a sigh of relief. + +"He sleeping, then?" + +"No one sleep in San Juan last night," said Jose. "There was the supper, +and some girls stay. The army men they all start north an hour ago, but +maybe the others still dance in the Mission, Don Rafael say he go to get +married, this is his last night--no one must sleep, or be sober!" + +Jose thought it a great joke, but Benito muttered, "Jesus and San +Vicente!" and ordered the boy to go back for the mules, and rode on down +the valley alone. + +It took Jose some time to find the mules, and when he did find them they +were even more perverse than usual; he had got them so near home as the +hill above San Juan, when one of them went careering along the mesa as +though heading for San Jacinto mountain. + +By the time he had secured it and got back near the road an astonishing +sight met his eyes--something one was not used to seeing at sunrise in +San Juan. + +A carriage came down the valley road from La Paz canyon. There were only +women in it, and two Indian boys rode in the rear. Where could a +carriage like that come from at such an hour? No one who rode in +carriages lived up those valleys! + +In staring at the carriage he failed at first to notice the girl on +horseback, who had ridden alone in advance of the carriage, and had +halted in the road, on the brow of the hill, looking down across the old +pueblo to the sea. + +She was so motionless, he was very close before he noticed her, close +enough to hear her indrawn breath of delight, to see the soft flush of +emotion touch her face. Almost he thought there were tears in her eyes; +he thought her the most beautiful lady he had ever seen alive,--though +one picture of the Virgin in the chapel was as fine. + +Jose stopped at the sight of her and stood very still. He could not +drive mules into the road ahead of a lady who was more lovely than even +the wooden saints with the gold painted around the border of their +gowns; and that is how he chanced to see a strange meeting on that hill. + +No one knew why the English senora had elected to take a pleasure ride +alone that morning, when the message of Benito, shouted as he galloped +past, had effectually banished from the minds of Dolores and Madalena +their intended picnic at the hot springs in the mountain, for which they +were all ready, and had actually started. But when they tumbled with +delighted exclamations from the new American buggy, and straightway +forgot all their plans for the day, including the entertainment of their +English guest, she stared in ill-concealed irritation from one to the +other as they chattered in Spanish, scarcely enlightening her as to the +reason of the sudden change in their plans. + +When she finally gathered the idea that it was the unexpected proximity +of Rafael's bride-to-be, and that all the other social lights of the +valley must expect to be extinguished in her honor, the red lips of the +Englishwoman straightened a trifle, and the baby-blue eyes took on a +shade of coldness; for since her arrival in California she had been made +the centre of many social affairs. In San Juan her one week, managed by +Teresa and Rafael, had been enough of a triumph to cause Keith Bryton +inward rage and to hold him there as long as an excuse to stay had +offered. + +Once she said in a burst of irritated frankness: + +"For mercy's sake, let me be happy once! You are a dog in the manger, +that's all! These people really live! There is an empire here for the +right woman, and you need not tug at my chains to remind me that I was +fool enough to marry before I found it!" + +And now the real ruler of the empire was about to enter into possession, +and the temporary one was frankly forgotten! Whatever her thoughts were, +she did not mean to assist at the royal entry of those two women whose +rule meant the ignoring of the English-speaking people. + +Only Teresa, watching her out of beady black eyes, comprehended and was +content. Rafael had earned the gift she had promised, but it had gone +quite far enough; it was as well Dona Luisa was coming with the other +girl! + +So, when Bryton's sister-in-law looked rather blank and did not descend +from the carriage, it was Teresa who agreed that it _was_ a morning too +beautiful to stay indoors, and of course if Dona Angela cared to drive +alone--and would excuse them-- + +Dona Angela would. She leaned back languidly, a picture of carelessness, +and motioned the driver to go on, but her lips still held their straight +hard line as they passed the great dome of the ruined chancel, where the +birds held sovereign sway. + +"It looks like a place for a throne," she thought, enviously; "and a +black creature from Mexico is coming to rule it!" + +They were crossing the bridge at the streamlet, when an exclamation from +the driver caused her to glance ahead and see the erect slender figure +on the dark horse silhouetted against the yellow flood of sunrise. + +No girl of San Juan rode alone like that on the mesa, and certainly not +one would have paused like that, transfixed by the beauty before her; +there was not one that would not rather have admired the beautiful new +buggy and the pretty hat of the fair lady in it. + +But the girl on the horse did not appear to notice either any more than +she had noticed Jose. Her horse had halted straight across the middle +of the road. The driver of the buggy had turned aside before she brought +her gaze back from the sea cliffs to rest for an instant on the fair +indignant face of the Englishwoman. + +The road was miles wide really--since one could drive anywhere on the +mesa, but the Mrs. Teddy Bryton had heretofore seen every native step +aside from the beaten trail when she drove abroad, and she was furious +at the driver for turning his horses an iota out of his way for that +girl who looked like--what did she look like? + +Mrs. Bryton could not have put into words the idea of the girl's face; +but her own angry blue eyes were caught and held for an instant by +strange fathomless violet ones--held until she shrank suddenly, and the +color left her face. Yet--as the carriage paused, her head was still +turned toward the stranger, and Jose saw her put her hands suddenly +across her eyes with a gesture of repulsion or pain, and sink back on +the cushions. + +The girl on the horse had not moved a muscle. She might have been carved +from marble, for any sign she made after she read the angry insolence of +the blue eyes. + +"Don Felipe Estevan's daughter," said the Mexican driver, "and here +ahead of the carriage of the Senora Luisa--it must be so." + +Mrs. Bryton gave no sign that she heard, neither did she glance at the +occupants of the carriage as they whirled past; her mind held only one +hateful picture. + +"Felipe Estevan's daughter" meant that she had looked into the eyes of +the "black woman from Mexico" who had come back to her father's land to +rule, and the Mexican woman had proven not so black as she had fancied, +and had sat there on the crest of the hill with a pride that was half +regal,--and almost half barbaric,--as though the highway was her very +own--as though the centre of it belonged to her by divine right. Mrs. +Bryton's vain soul was fired by a momentary wild temptation to test that +divine right, to show her there was one man in San Juan not to be ruled +by anyone else if she, Angela Bryton, cared to call him to her side and +keep him there. Should she--or should she not? + +Teresa was quite right in her fancy that the trick against the Americano +had been quite successful enough; it was time the other girl came to +claim her own! + +[Music: _La Noche Fatal_.] + + En la noche fatal que a tus ojos + Dirigi una mirida ardoro-sa + Comprendi que la dicha amorosa, + No me es dada en el mundo gozar. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + + +It was quite true that no one was allowed to sleep that night of +Rafael's last bachelor supper. Because of Miguel's death, there could be +no dancing, but the hours passed merrily enough, for all that. The army +men stayed until the faint gray shone in the east, when they mounted and +rode north after the horses, started a day ahead. + +Keith Bryton had ridden with the herd as far as Santa Ana, and then, to +Angela's amusement, returned to San Juan. She was certain that his +return had not been for Rafael's supper, but to see that she did not by +some man[oe]uvre manage that it be a ladies' supper and graced by her +attendance. She had in jest threatened to suggest it, and Keith felt +very much as Teresa felt--it was quite time the bride were at hand to +stop a flirtation bordering on the dangerous. + +But, after all, the ladies of San Juan were not included. It was a +carouse instead of an entertainment. Girls were there, and guitars; and +the big Mission doors and wooden shutters inside the deep windows barred +the outer world from the hilarity, the songs, the shrieks of laughter +over toasts of the old men to the groom-elect. + +At earliest dawn the army men, with promises and gold pieces to the +girls, and an extra glass to Rafael and his bride, mounted their horses +and rode north to catch up with the herd before it reached Los Angeles. +One of the girls wept lest the one who had made her favorite might never +ride that way again, and the wilder spirits marched around her with +lighted candles, singing a funeral dirge, ending in a wild fandango. + +Don Antonio was there, and old Ricardo Ruiz, and they sat through the +night playing with the dice, and emptying each other's pockets in turn, +and comparing the old entertainment with the new, between the drinks. + +The fandango ended by Concha, the weeping one, doing the maddest +dancing of all, and Fernando Mendez poured out goblets of wine to drink +luck to her next lover. + +"It is good luck for himself he wants, Concha!" called Rafael across the +room. "Fernando is a coyote, always awake for young chickens!" + +"Concha mia, he is jealous; never heed him, but drink wine with me to +the next lover!" + +"He offers her a glass of wine, Antonio," grunted old Don Ricardo. +"Huh!--that is the love-making of California to-day!" + +"True, Ricardo; at his age you or I would have been at her feet and our +jewels on her breast." + +"Fernando has no jewels left." + +"I should say not. His father made love after our fashion, hence--" + +"The deluge!" + +"The deluge of poverty and Americanos," assented Antonio. "A plague on +them both! They have changed the land!" + +A burst of laughter from Rafael's end of the table drowned the +grumblings of the old men. Rafael had told a story so very funny that +the girls had shrieked and giggled and protested behind their fans. + +"Fie, Don Rafael! and you to be a married man in a week!" + +"But a week is seven nights away, and all of them your own, Merced mia!" + +"Merced!" called another man from a game of _malia_ at an old table once +used for altar service--"Merced, darling, never listen to a word he +says! A paltry seven nights! My heart is at your feet for a lifetime!" + +"Of nights or days, senor?" asked the girl, laughingly. + +"She caught you there, Senor Gonzales," observed Bryton, who was dealing +the cards. "Don Rafael, after all, makes the only definite offer." + +"You are right, Don Keith," returned the other. "With the help of the +Americanos, Don Rafael is learning to be a good maker of bargains." + +"The sooner the rest of you learn the same trick, the better for +California!" retorted Rafael. + +"You hear?" said Don Ricardo. + +"Sure," assented the major-domo. "What if his mother heard?" + +"All the saints! There would be murder!" + +"Por Dios!" exclaimed Rafael, as a servant opened a window because of +the thick tobacco smoke; "it is daylight, and I must start for San +Diego. My last bachelor carouse is ended, and none of us under the +table!" + +"How sad that we are still able to stand on our own feet!" laughed +Merced. "See!" and she sprang to the top of a beautiful silver-decorated +chest against the wall; "one of us is even able to dance good-bye to +your last night of freedom! Good-bye, O free heart of Don Rafael! On +some to-morrow the bride comes!" + +"Holy Maria!" ejaculated Don Antonio, putting his glass down; "she is +dancing on the _donas_ of the bride!" + +"The _donas_!" echoed Don Ricardo, aghast; "and the bride a young saint +stolen from the Church!--the _donas_!" + +"What's that?" asked Bryton, while the rest applauded the dancer. +"_Donas?"_ + +"The gifts of the groom to the bride,--the gown, the wedding veil, +the--holy God! it's sacrilege!" + +"Is it?" asked the American; "then we'll stop it. Come to coffee, +Merced!" + +Without further ceremony he picked the girl up in his arms, and carried +her, laughing and struggling, into the great refectory, where the Indian +servants were placing breakfast on the table. + +"That was quick work, Antonio," observed Don Ricardo, with a breath of +relief. + +"Sure; he is the best of all the Americanos. Ai! even more like the +caballeros of other days than our own sons!" + +Don Ricardo did not care to commit himself so far as that. He contented +himself with grumbling at Rafael's indifference. + +"And the girl a young saint--meant to live in religion!" + +Bryton rejoined them with a cup of coffee, and both the men hastened to +assure him that it was not Rafael who was in fault, but the many glasses +he had emptied. + +"Sure, it was the glasses," affirmed Don Ricardo. "No man of California +would let a girl of pleasure dance on the things sacred to the woman of +his family; eh, Antonio?" + +"Of course; at any other time Rafael would have thrown the girl through +a window; truly, he would!" + +"No doubt of it," agreed Bryton. + +"Dona Luisa has given the boy a long rope. It must be that she has +learned that it is too long--she comes back after the years to steady +him with a wife,--and such a wife! Young, wealthy, beautiful!" + +"And a young nun, all but the veil!" + +"That seems rather a joke--or a tragedy--after all this," and Bryton +motioned to the remainders of the night's carouse. + +"If there is a joke, it is the devil playing it on the saints." + +"Sure; and the devil wins," agreed Don Antonio. "It is all settled. The +Dona Luisa is a wise woman. Her son wins a wife, and the convent loses a +fortune and a nun at the same time." + +"Had the good son nothing to do with the arrangement?" asked the +American, dryly. + +"Oh, of course, senor. Three times he have gone to Mexico, where Felipe +Estevan's daughter visit with his mother. He has time to sing many +dozens of serenades,--all of the burning hearts and torment of love, and +lost souls, to make a girl have pity. Maybe she have never before talked +with one young man, one minute of her life; who knows?" + +"It is good time she comes," observed Don Ricardo. "One year--two years, +and Rafael, like Miguel, would be content with half-breed children and +their mother. Little Marta's child is born, and they say she will not +stay at Las Flores, where he sent her--not for the best house there!" + +A peal of laughter reached them from the other room. + +"Bravo!" called Rafael; "I take you at your word, Merced. A kiss to seal +the compact!" + +"Keep it for your wedding-day, Don Rafael," she retorted, and ran from +him through the door into the room where the three men were talking. But +Rafael caught her inside the portal, and dragged her back, his face +flushed and his beautiful eyes glowing. + +"I will have it!" he muttered, with his lips against her own. "You +pretty devil, I will!" + +"And this is the home your young nun will come to from her convent," +Bryton remarked. "Some one said there was Indian blood in her family; it +may prove fortunate, for she will need war-clubs instead of religion to +quell this sort of thing." + +"But with the help of her saints--" + +"Of course," agreed Bryton; "with the help of her saints all things may +happen." + +An Indian servant came in from the plaza, and closed the door and stood +with his back against it. + +"The Dona Madalena, and Dona Dolores, and the Senora Bryton, stop in the +calesha," he announced, stoically; "they come in!" + +"Bar that door! they sha'n't; they must not!" called Bryton, but it was +too late. The side door opened, and the three appeared--the two girls +plainly frightened, but Mrs. Bryton beautifully audacious. + +"Nonsense! Dona Teresa will not scold; we will stop only a minute. Your +uncle and cousin are here--it is all right!" Then she saw Bryton, and +laughed. + +"I told you I would at least see inside," she observed, "and it is quite +worth while. What a magnificent chest!" + +Bryton walked directly to her. + +"I will see you to your carriage," he said, laying his hand on her arm. +"What the devil did you mean by this bravado?" + +She wrenched her arm free and regarded him coolly. + +"Thanks. I came because I said I would come, and you said not to dare. +'Dare' is a risky word, amigo. We will go directly. We are going to the +hills, and only halted to wish good luck to Rafael." + +"Malediction!" muttered Don Antonio. "He can't be seen--he--" + +A burst of laughter came from the dining-room, and the two girls +retreated toward the door. + +"Women!" breathed Dolores; "if Dona Teresa hears this--" + +"It is the servants--only the servants," said Don Antonio. "Don Rafael +has perhaps started on his journey; he will be disconsolate that--" + +But at that moment Rafael and Fernando came in from the dining-room, one +smoothing his hair and one arranging his cravat. Rafael was the less +sober of the two, but he managed to bow with a certain grace as he took +Mrs. Bryton's hand. + +"My poor house is at your service, madama," he murmured, "and I am at +your feet. I hastened to you as soon as--" + +--"As soon as he could get the other girls out the back door," remarked +Fernando, aside to Bryton. + +"Mr. Bryton was horribly cross to me for coming in; he thinks it too +unconventional; he thinks I do not know the Spanish customs, and--" + +"I offer myself as your teacher," said Rafael, looking straight into the +blue eyes. "Believe me, senora, there are many delightful things to be +learned in old California!" + +"I shall remember your offer," she returned, smilingly. "See how sulky +Mr. Bryton looks! He never takes time to be gallant himself." + +"That is true," assented Rafael. "He never looks at the girls, or speaks +except to tell them to keep quiet." + +"Oh!" she replied, with a little malicious smile, "there is always a +girl excepted!" + +Bryton looked at her with impatient wonder; he was about to speak, when +an Indian came in with a tray of coffee, and Rafael offered a cup to +Mrs. Bryton. + +"Honor me, madama, and let us hear of the girl who is an exception." + +"Bravo! The exceptions are always of interest. Don Keith is forever a +reproach to the rest of us; he has no vices." + +"Or conceals them better!" put in Rafael, with a touch of malice. + +"You are to be unmasked, senor," murmured Dolores, with lenient eyes. + +Bryton glanced at his watch and then with impatience at his +sister-in-law. + +"I have not the slightest idea of the lady's meaning," he said, coldly; +"and if you want to make an early start for the hot springs--" + +Mrs. Bryton shut her teeth together with a little click, at his palpable +ignoring of herself. + +"Oh--short memory of man!" she said, chidingly; "He has forgotten in a +year!" + +"A year?" Bryton stared at her with a puzzled frown, and a slight motion +of his hand toward the door. That, with its little suggestion of +authority, decided her. + +"I shall tell it," she announced. "How many of you believe in love at +first sight?" + +"All of us, after meeting you!" declared Rafael, with an exaggerated +bow. + +"Sure!" agreed Don Ricardo. + +"My husband, you know, is an engineer, and goes on long journeys into +queer corners of the mining world." + +"Bad habit for husbands with pretty wives," remarked Don Antonio. + +"Last Winter," continued she, slowly sipping her coffee and watching +Bryton; "last Winter he went to Mexico." + +"Pardon! We do not ask for the love affairs of your lucky husband, +but--" + +"But last Winter Don Keith went along; yes--he went along to look up +some mining property in the Indian hills, and when he came back--Have +any of you noticed the peculiar ring Mr. Bryton wears?" + +"Angela!" said Keith, sharply; but she looked at him with smiling +insolence. + +"Oh, I know your little romance of Dona Espiritu; Teddy told me." + +"Damn Teddy!" he remarked, while the rest shouted with laughter at the +color flaming in his face. + +"Dona Espiritu!" repeated Don Ricardo. "The lady of the Spirit--let us +hope it was a good spirit, Don Keith--and that she was kind!" + +"To her health!" cried Rafael. "Pour brandy, Fernando; we drink our last +toast of this meeting to the love of Don Keith--to the Dona Espiritu!" + +"I would rather see the ring than drink the toast," said Dolores. "May +I, senor?" + +"There is nothing remarkable about it, except that it is very, very +old," and he held out his hand for her inspection. "An onyx engraved +with the Aztec eagle--now the Mexican eagle." + +"But given him by--" + +"By a lady who was of service to my brother, to an old priest, and to +me." + +"See how he drags in the others," laughed Mrs. Bryton. "Teddy and the +priest got no ring; Ted had a knife-thrust, and the priest a black eye. +Keith had some hurt on the head, from which he had a long and +interesting case of fever." + +"Let us hope Dona Espiritu nursed him through it, and the priest did not +watch them too closely," remarked Rafael, with a meaning glance at +Bryton. The last drink of brandy had been the one too many, and his +smile was not nice. + +"Did she nurse him through the illness?" whispered Madalena in Angela's +ear. + +"Oh, I could tell," said the latter, demurely; "but Keith evidently +resents his romances being made public." + +"Senorita, there is no more to tell," remarked Keith, coldly; "not even +so much as Angela would suggest. My brother and an old priest and I lost +our way in the hills; and seeing a light, we chanced on some religious +meeting of a strange hill tribe of Indians. They thought we were spies +of the Church or the government, and there was trouble. A lady, whom the +Indians and the priest called by the name you heard, saved us all that +night. She was the one person of the Catholic Church they would allow +to know them well, and she was a nun or a novice." + +"Santa Maria! and she gave you rings?" + +"The ring was some talisman respected by the tribe. She put it on my +finger after I had been struck down and--well--used up. It stopped them +when words were of no use. We made a litter for the old priest, and tied +Teddy on a burro,--he had a leg wound,--and we walked beside them over +the wilderness trail until dawn came, and we met help. I fainted from +loss of blood about that time, and Teddy and I recuperated in the house +of the old priest. We never saw the lady again." + +"You never saw her again after an adventure like that!" cried Fernando +in amaze. "That is cold blood for you!" + +"It may be that she was ugly--or old," suggested Rafael. + +"On the contrary, she was so charming that he shouted for her in the +delirium of the fever; that is how Teddy learned that she was the one +exception among girls! But all their scheming could not learn her name +from the priest or the Mexicans. 'Dona Espiritu' was all they ever +heard. Teddy fancied they had shipped her to Spain for the adventure +with a heretic that one night." + +"Is it all true, senor?" asked Dolores. "Dona Angela laughs at it, and +you frown; and between the two, how are we to know how serious it may +all be to you?" + +"Serious enough to make him bare his head at every old battered shrine +for her sake," said Angela, with a little shrug; "and an old ring of his +mother's was lost from his finger on that wilderness trail, while the +Mexican eagle took its place. Oh, nuns are only women after all, and +much can happen in the length of a Mexican night!" + +"Well, senor," said Dolores, with sudden courage, "I am a good Catholic, +thank God! and I see no sacrilege in the sort of love for which a man +bares his head at a shrine. Senor Bryton, the story will make us of +California more than ever your friends!" + +"Sure," agreed Don Antonio. + +"I am at your feet, senorita," said Bryton, with kindly deference. "Now, +Mrs. Bryton, if you have no other--romances--to elaborate and embellish, +perhaps you will allow me to see you to your carriage, before I start +for Los Angeles. Don Rafael is detained by us when he should be on his +way south, and--" + +"Oh--I beg--" began Rafael, but Madalena interrupted. + +"Not another moment must we stay. Aunt Teresa will scold us well for +this!" + +"For taking pity on a lonely bachelor?" asked Rafael. + +"Lonely?" repeated Dolores. "We will come again when the bride comes. +Until then we leave you to prepare your soul with this--and this!" + +She motioned to the decanter, and picked up the scarlet fan of Mercedes. + +"You cruel one! You would make Dona Angela think--but do not think it, +madama! I assure you, it is my mother's--or my aunt's--or--" + +"He never had an aunt," laughed Madalena. "Come, Uncle Ricardo, Dona +Maxima wants you at home; she is at our house saying things to make your +ears burn." + +"Sure!" said Don Ricardo, getting on his feet and taking the cane +offered him. "But it is in honor of Dona Luisa Arteaga I am here. When +her son makes gay company, it is the time for the steady friends of the +family to stay by. So I am here, Madalena mia; and I shall say to my +wife I was here all the evening, right here at this table as a +respectable friend, and won seventy pesos!" + +"Sure, he did," assented Don Antonio. "But it is over! The sun is up, it +is good time to go home." + +Rafael managed in the farewells to kiss the hand of Mrs. Bryton twice, +and to be observed by Bryton only once. That was enough of victory for +the moment, and when the door was closed he flung himself into a chair +and reached again for the decanter. + +"Ai! she is delicious--the madama whose husband plans mines and goes on +long voyages! How she makes our women look tame!" + +"Tah! She is insolent, that is all. We would lock up our women if they +had the American way. Drink coffee--not more brandy." + +"To the devil with your coffee! And it is not an American way--she is +English--the delicious lady!" + +"Worse still!" grunted Fernando. + +"How?" roared Rafael, straightening up in his chair. "You forget, senor! +She is my friend--my very illustrious friend--she is--no matter what she +is. Her husband goes on long voyages--and you must apologize to me--you +hear? I have the admiration for her--I--" + +"You are drunk; that is what ails you, Rafael," said his friend, +bluntly. "You think that you are in love with that woman, but you are +only drunk." + +"Drunk--I? And you call her--call the illustrious lady who is a friend +of mine, 'that woman!' Senor, there are two swords on the wall. You take +your choice--you--" + +Fernando tried to avoid him, but he wrenched the sword from the wall and +lunged at him wickedly. + +But for a girl who shrieked and rushed from a shadowy doorway, and flung +herself on the arm of Rafael, it would have gone ill with Fernando. + +"Rafael mio!" she cried, clinging to him, "for the love of God!" + +"Marta!" he cried, and dropped the weapon. "I--did I not tell you--" + +He broke off vaguely, and avoided Fernando's eyes; that young man +laughed good-naturedly. + +"Another illustrious friend whose husband goes on long voyages!" he +said, lightly. "I leave you, my friend, until you are sober. Senorita, +adios." + +Rafael stared moodily at the girl. She was a pretty bit of bronze flesh +with passionate eyes. + +"I told you to stay on the ranch," he said at last; but she broke into +tears and caught his hands. + +"I could not! They all know--the old woman and the priest. They thought +I was dying, and he came and I had to tell him the name of the child's +father; and--and when my own father comes back from the herding he will +beat me, and I will not stay! I will not! He is not a fine gentleman, +Rafael; he is only a herder who was a soldier in Mexico. Fine words +would not count with him, unless it would be words before the priest, +and you promised--" + +"Jesus, Maria, and Joseph!" burst out Rafael. "What an hour to come with +a list of a man's promises! I've been up all night, and I'd fight with +the saints if they came my way. Go, Marta; I will tell Antonio to make a +home for you away from the crazy herder. I--I am very busy; I start +south in an hour." + +"But, Rafael--" + +"Well--well?" + +"They say you are to marry an illustrious senorita--that you--" + +"They say a lot there is no sense in saying!" he burst out angrily. "If +you had stayed on the ranch, you would not have heard their lies or--" + +"Ai! I am happy that it is not true. But that one lady--whose hands you +kissed--Rafael--" + +"Oh, for the love of God, go!" he said. "You women drive a man mad! +You--" + +Fernando rushed in, interrupting him: + +"Rafael! Your mother--she is here!" + +"My mother?" + +"On the hill--her carriage--a man brings the news." + +"Damnation! Coming here--now? And my head--Yes, it's true, Fernando; I +was drunk. Help me to think! Make them clear all this away!" and he +pointed to the tables and the dice and the cards on the floor. "Por +Dios, how my head swims! And my mother is no fool--she will see! Think, +Fernando! Help me to plan something. And you, Marta, let yourself not be +seen!" + +The frightened girl was only too glad to slip away, while the rest of +the group stripped the rooms of evidences of the night's orgy. + +"Mount a horse and ride to the beach," decided Fernando. "You will be +gone on business, to see about--eh--to see if the vessel for hides has +come in. Make yourself decent, and I will send a messenger after you. +Don't be too easily found--you are likely to be drunker in an hour than +you are now." + +"Curse the brandy! And Bryton was to come back to see me about--oh, God +knows what! But don't let my mother see him--an accursed heretic +Americano, you know! Dios! If I could only sleep for an hour!" + +Fernando fairly pushed him out at the door. + +"Take a sea bath; drink black coffee; get out of sight while I receive +the bride!" + +Then, after the door was closed on the groom-elect, he took a quick +survey of the room. + +"That is right, open all the windows. Some one cut lilies--the white +ones--quick! Hide this fan for Merced. Light those candles on the +Virgin's shrine, and put the lilies there and on the table. Whose pipe +is this under the edge of our lady's lace robe? It smells vilely--take +it away! Where is the key of the chest of the _donas_? Here it is in the +chest, and that is unlocked--only Rafael could do that. Let us hope he +has not let Merced try on the wedding-dress! Are there no more flowers? +Get some for the room of the senorita. Tell some one to make French +coffee. Manuel, put out the light." + +Dolores and Madalena ran through the open door, breathless. + +"Fernando, she is here--the Senora Arteaga, and--" + +"Already! Aunt Teresa told us to run and help; she will come also. Don +Rafael?" + +"Has ridden to the harbor." + +"More likely to bed," remarked Madalena, skeptically. + +"Senorita!" + +"Sh--h!" whispered Dolores, with lifted hand. "The carriage; they are in +the plaza!" + +She rushed out, and the others followed. Teresa was there greeting Dona +Luisa; but all fell suddenly silent as they noticed the gray-white of +the old face, and the frail figure as she descended from the carriage +with the help of Fernando Mendez and Ana--his cousin's widow. + +Fernando cast one glance at the girl who sat her horse and glanced over +their heads for the face she did not see. + +A wizened old Indian woman alighted from a cart and came to her and +touched her foot on the stirrup. + +"It is your new land, little mistress," she said, in a tongue not +understood by the others, "the land of your handsome lover." + +The girl looked again across the many faces gathering in the plaza, and +then accepted the help of Don Antonio to alight. + +"But he is not here, Polonia--the handsome lover," she returned, and +then walked past all the others and slipped her hand under the arm of +Dona Luisa. + +"A thousand welcomes, senora," said Fernando, at the portal. "The town +will rejoice to-day." + +"One welcome I had a right to expect at this door," the old lady +answered, "and he is not here." + +"He will be heart-broken. He did not think you had yet reached San +Diego. To-day he was to start for there. Will it please you to have this +seat?" + +"Not yet," she said. "Raquelita!" + +Raquel Estevan gently disengaged her other hand from Dolores, and the +frail old woman led her to the little shrine of the Virgin, where the +candles glimmered. The others halted at the door, but Fernando and +Dolores and Ana knelt also as the old woman and the girl from Mexico +clasped hands and bent heads before the statue in the niche. + +The old woman rose first and kissed the girl's forehead. + +"My daughter," she said, faintly, "I welcome you for my son and for +myself, to the land where you are mistress. Now, senor!" + +Fernando placed a chair for her, and she sank into it wearily. + +"My last journey, my children! You are the son of Manuel Mendez?--we +called ourselves cousins once. I present you--all of you--to my +daughter--Dona Raquel Estevan." + +"At your feet, senorita!" said Fernando. + +"I appreciate the honor of your acquaintance, senor," replied Raquel, in +the conventional greeting of the day and land. Then the others crowded +about, and spoke many pretty things of welcome. But in the midst of it +all Dona Luisa arose, and leaning on Jacoba's arm, passed into the room +prepared for her. The group left behind stared into each other's eyes. + +"How frail! How could any creature like that make the journey?" asked +Fernando. "She has been very ill." + +"She _is_ ill; we dare not mention it to her!" + +"But Rafael--her son--" + +"Must not be told, so she says; not until the wedding is over. All at +once she has gone like that. It is the heart, senor, and she is old. It +may be months--may be days--may be only hours, and we can do nothing but +keep her quiet and happy." + +"Santa Maria!" muttered Dolores, "and Rafael--" + +"His heart it will break--no? To not see him at the door is like a bad +omen. She likes not the new Americanos' way of business--to be gone at +breakfast time to look at ships! But of course he is very good!" + +"You are very good," replied Dolores. "Have they sent for Rafael?" + +"I will see," said Fernando, and went away muttering, "The so good +Rafael!" + +"Oh! we have a thousand things to ask you, Raquel," said Madalena. +"Could you have been a nun and been happy if--Rafael had not found you?" + +"To work for Mother Church--is not that of happiness?" + +"Never to dance! Never to hear a serenade! Never to watch on moonlight +nights for a handsome caballero!" + +"I would as soon live in a tomb," confessed Dolores. + +"But if you had never seen a dance, would you miss dancing? My mother's +people were priests; she was to have been a nun. My blood and my +teaching have been of the church. My life has been lived in one little +narrow strip of the world. All at once the world changed. Sometimes it +bewilders me, this change. You say 'happy,' but I don't think I know +that word as you know it. Maybe I never shall learn it--who knows? But I +can find work for the Church even here in the world, and you will all be +my good friends, and--I shall be content." + +Dona Luisa had entered the room while she was speaking, and nodded her +approval. + +"Content? You will be happy, my child; you will be with Rafael! Have you +seen the chest of the _donas_? Is it not handsome? If we only had the +key!" + +"There is a little silver key on the shrine," said Dolores, and ran to +get it. + +"Aha! On the shrine of the Virgin!" said Dona Luisa. "Is that not love, +Raquelita?" + +"I am willing to believe it," she said, and took the little key, only +to hand it back to Dolores. "You open it--and may you be the next happy +bride!" + +Dolores rushed to unlock the chest, and Madalena to lift the lid, and +Ana, as well as the older women, exclaimed at the richness of the +contents. + +"Ai! Raquel Estevan, thou happy one!" cried Ana; "you have more luck +than a queen!" + +They pulled out embroideries and laces and jewels, with little shrieks +of ecstasy at the beauty and fineness of them. Raquel looked on, smiling +at their delight. + +"Aha! is not that a lover, Raquelita?" repeated Dona Luisa. "Bring me +the mantillas. Those two are for the bridesmaids; see how they look on +Madalena and Dolores--fine--fine! And here is the wedding-veil--and the +shoes, and the rosary--not anything is forgotten! He is so dear, so +good--my Rafael!" + +The girls insisted on placing the wreath and veil on Raquel's head, but +she broke from them at sight of a silken scarf of green and red and +white. + +"Ah! more than all the jewels!" she cried, and clasped it to her bosom. +"The flag of my own Mexico! I will love him for that--I will love him +with all my heart!" + +"Ah! thou hast said it at last," said Dona Luisa, in triumph; "never +forget thou hast said it!" + +"When I say it," whispered Dolores to Ana, "it will be to the man, not +to his mother." + +"Come to me, daughter," said Dona Luisa, sinking back into a chair. "The +heart feels--feels almost too happy! My dear Raquel--my dear Rafael!" + +"The Americanos will be crazy to see this wedding in the old California +fashion," said Madalena, adjusting Raquel's veil caressingly. "Senora +Bryton would give her two ears--ouch! Dona Ana, you break my arm!" + +"Give thanks it is not your neck, babbler!" muttered Ana. Dona Luisa +looked at the two intently a moment. + +"Who is the American senora of the two ears?" she inquired; "and why +should the wedding of my son have interest for such--persons?" + +"She--she was a cousin of Don Eduardo, and now she is married again--and +she visits us, and her husband is some kind of engineer to make +railroads, and mines, and--" + +A pinch from Dolores stopped her this time, but it was very clumsily +done, Dona Luisa saw it. + +"Ah," she said, quietly; "and when is he to bring the railroad of the +Americanos to the Californias, eh?" + +The women and girls stared at each other. + +"I--I cannot tell her," murmured Madalena to Jacoba; "you speak! Of +course it is not Dona Angela's husband who does it, but--the railroad +does come--so they say." + +"Why do you whisper, and not speak aloud?" demanded Dona Luisa, putting +aside the hand of Raquel, who tried to quiet her rising resentment. "Is +there not anyone here to speak plainly, and the truth? What is it you +try to hide from me?" + +"Oh, Luisa," begged Jacoba, tearfully, "do not make of this a thing to +trouble you! No one tries really to hide things; it is not here the +railroad is to be first; it is only talk; it may never happen--it may--" + +"Where?" demanded Dona Luisa. And Jacoba, with tears in her eyes, +confessed having heard of the impertinence of the Americanos, who meant +to build a new road of their own instead of the wagon trail to San +Antonio. + +"That was good enough for our fathers. What is now wrong with the San +Antonio road?" + +"Not anything, of course; but the government--" + +"Ah ha!" and the old voice lifted to a shrill note of triumph in having +at last found the key of the question. "The American government! I +thought that would be it. What new crime do they plan against the +Californias? This it is to grow old and lame--they would hide it from +me! Speak, and tell me all! Does the fine new government want my home to +quarter their pigs of soldiers in, as they did in the Mission in other +days? And would my friends have hidden it from me until these upstarts +were across my door?" + +"Luisa--chulita--you were not well. Rafael said you were not to be told; +but since you think we mean to speak falsely, or deceive you--" + +"Where is it to come? How near?" Dona Luisa was not to be led an iota +from the main question. But at her demand, Jacoba tried to speak, and +failed, and could only weep noisily at the hardness in her old cousin's +tones. + +"Why do you make Aunt Jacoba weep like that?" demanded Ana, resentfully. +"What has she to do with the railroads--she or her family? Your good +Rafael does more to bring them than any one else. He sells them land; he +and Don Eduardo help them to get the rights to go where they please. +Aunt Jacoba would not do that; her father and her husband would be +burned at the stake before they would help these new people to use the +graves of the holy fathers at San Gabriel as a road-bed!" + +"Mother of God!" + +Dona Luisa arose, as though to annihilate the daring speaker; but +Raquel caught her and she sank back in her chair with one tremulous hand +extended to the frightened Ana. + +"Go on!" she said, hoarsely. "Go on! Perjure thy soul with lies, since +thou lovest them so,--lies against a son of Mother Church. Go on!" + +Ana shrank, and faltered, but the accusation brought back her courage. + +"If the truth is shameful, the shame is not mine," she retorted. +"Through two of the Arteaga ranches in the north has Rafael sold the +right of way for the American railroad to Monterey. That it might come +closer to his ranch-houses, he has let it be built across the forgotten +graves of the Mission fathers. Beneath the feet of the Americanos will +lie the holy apostles of our Mother Church! The Protestant heretics will +wheel their pigs to market across the gardens where Ava Marias have +sounded all the years of religion in California!" + +Dona Luisa stared at her with white face, and her lips moved stiffly +when she tried to speak. The other women and girls were clinging +together in tears, and Raquel stood with her strong young arms about +her, as though to guard her against the world. + +Bryton, who had strolled back through the patio for a final word with +Rafael, had heard nothing of the arrivals; he pushed open the door at +the back, and then halted at the sight of the group there,--the women +and girls frightened and weeping, the scattered wealth of silks and +laces flung across chairs and tables, and the three girls with +bride-like veils. + +"Is it--a witchcraft?" half whispered Dona Luisa at last; but the +whisper was plainly heard above the sobs of the girls, who scarcely +dared to breathe. "It is a work of the fiends to snare his soul for hell +Immaculate Mother, let it not be!" + +Raquel bent above her with murmured assurances of divine help, and the +old woman suddenly caught the hands of the girl in her own and held her, +staring in her face with questioning eyes; then she spoke eagerly, +fiercely. + +"Your wish but a moment ago! You wished for some great work for Mother +Church--to fight evil out in the world; your guardian angel heard the +wish and has sent you a soul to save from the heretics,--the soul of the +man you love!" + +Raquel stared at her, but did not speak. Her eyes looked a bit +frightened, but she rested her cheek on the frail old hands, and +caressed them reassuringly. + +Dona Luisa lifted the gold and ebony crucifix, and held it above her +head. + +"Kneel!" she said; and the girls and women did so. Bryton, in the +doorway, caught sight of the girl in the bride's veil, and made a +movement toward her, but was checked by the voice of the mother. + +"It is for the soul of the man you love, Raquel mia. Never forget +that--never forget!" + +"I will not forget," said the girl, gently; and at the sound of the +voice Keith Bryton's jaw set in a tense, ugly way, and he stepped back +into the shadow. + +"Then swear by the Holy Mother of God!" said the old voice, and the +crucifix above the head of the kneeling girl was held rigidly steady. + +"I swear by the Holy Mother of God!" + +"Swear by the blood of Christ crucified!" + +"I swear by the blood of Christ crucified!" + +"To stand as a guard over the soul of Rafael!" The old voice had a +faintness, despite the steady words; the end of her strength had come. + +The eyes of Raquel widened ever so little as she realized what she was +promising. There was an involuntary pause before she spoke again, and +then the absolute despair of the mother, and her one hope, swept over +the girl's consciousness, and a spark of the martyr fire lit her own +soul. + +"To stand as guard over the soul of Rafael," said she, steadily. + +"So long as you both shall live!" + +"So long as--we both--shall--live." + +Then the crucifix fell to the tiled floor, and the old face looked very +gray, as she sank back on the chair; and Jacoba smothered a shriek at +sight of her eyes; and Raquel, still on her knees, clasped her about the +waist and whispered: + +"Dona Luisa, Dona Luisa!" + +The staring eyes regained a momentary glimmer of consciousness at the +sound of the girl's voice, and she lifted her hand again as though it +still held the crucifix. + +"Until--the day--of--" and then the sentence trailed along into the +eternal silences of the unseen land. + +"Senora!" called Raquel, appealingly; but Ana caught her by the shoulder +and looked in her face, and said: + +"God help you, Raquel Estevan! To the recording angel she has taken that +oath." + + * * * * * + +Keith Bryton closed the door on the weeping women, and walked out +through the old refectory to the inner court, where he met Fernando. + +"What is it, senor?" he asked. Bryton looked at him much as though he +had not been there. + +"I--I scarcely know," he said, dully. "You had better--" + +"But you have the face of a ghost!" interrupted Fernando. "Something has +happened--in there?" + +"I think so," agreed the American, recovering under Fernando's curious +gaze. "Some one is ill--or--" + +Fernando ran past him, and Bryton walked slowly along the inner court to +where the one-time baptistry lay roofless to the sky. Through an old +doorway with the Aztec sun cut in the coping, he passed into the old +graveyard of the padres, and thence to the great altar-place of the old +earthquake ruin. Even there the cries of the girls came to him through +an open window--a wailing chorus of tragedy. Then an old Indian untied +the ropes of the belfry, and the toll of death sounded along the valley. +But it seemed very far away. He stared at the half-pagan decorations of +the old stonework--never the cross of Christ anywhere on them--and sat +so still that two linnets lit almost at his feet and were not afraid. + +"I wondered why I should stray back to this little corner of the world," +he said at last, "and now--now I reckon I'm finding out. God! I feel +like a bad dream. And my hands tied!" + +He paced back and forth on the old altar-place, until the mad clatter of +hoofs coming from the sea cut across the tolling of the bells and told +him the lost bridegroom--the man she said she loved and would never +forget--had been found. + +He swore softly as he crossed the plaza to the veranda of Juan Alvara. +The old man, rolling his first cigarro of the day, was sitting there on +the bench in the early sunlight. + +"Don Juan," he said, holding out his hand, "I ride to catch up with the +officers and go with them into the Indian country, and I may not see San +Juan again for a long time. Your home has always been a pleasant place, +and I thank you for many courtesies." + +The old man shook his hand gravely. + +"Adios! You come back to San Juan--no?" + +"Perhaps not," said Bryton. "If there is anything I can do for you in +Los Angeles--" + +"Thanks, senor; there is nothing. My daughters go there in a week with +the wedding party. For whom think you old Tomas tolls the bell?" + +When informed, he stared vaguely at the Americano. Alvara was growing +old. Teresa had warned them all that no one should tell him until his +breakfast was over and he had had his smoke. + +"Luisa! the Dona Luisa! Dead, you say?--before the wedding-day? No, +senor, pardon, but you have not understood. I know Luisa Arteaga when +she is still a little girl--and always. She not dying before she have +marry the boy like she want." + +Still, his hand trembled as he reached for his cane. Across the plaza +Indians and Mexicans were moving toward the Mission. It was early for +San Juan to be astir in the street. Old Matia, who had been nurse to +Miguel and Rafael, went past, not seeing the two men for the tears in +her eyes. Yes--after all, there was trouble--but Dona Luisa! + +In his perturbation he turned, and again held out his hand. + +"Adios, senor," he repeated; "but you coming back for sure. To San Juan +all people coming back some time. You go with the horses across the +deserts?" + +"Yes, I am going across the deserts. Adios!" + +[Music: _El Corazon_.] + + Yo te he de amar, + te he de amar + hasta muerte, + Y si pudiera-- + Yo te a maria despues. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + + +He had crossed the ranges twice and returned, but the City of the Angels +had lost its old witchery. + +The rose-tinted dawns, and the amethystine dusks were beautiful as ever, +but to banish the memories he had once dreamed over there, he galloped +alone to the harbor called "The Hell of California," and lay all one day +on the beach, and stared moodily at the waves whipping the yellow sands +of San Pedro. + +To the south there, far beyond the prosaic stretch of grazing-lands +bordered by the sea, beyond all the tame levels where the water was +green or yellow in the shallows, beyond all the jutting points, veiled +in the miles of mists, he could follow in his mind each curve, until +the one valley of beauty would gleam like a green jewel seen from the +cliffs of San Juan. + +And at the foot of those cliffs there were no flat stretches of color +such as make weary the eye; the water there held all the shimmering, +bewitching, iridescence of a peacock's feathers,--the gold and purple, +the greens and the blues ever changing,--the strange touch of pink +making it all glorious in certain glints of the sunlight; and at the +edge of it all, the fringe of foam--a string of pearls shattered on the +brown cliffs or sandy beach, and gathered up to be dashed again and +again and again--the endless garniture of old Ocean's robe. + +Never on any other shore had mere waves, running to the sand, the same +witchery. Alvara had said that all men came back some day to San Juan. +What witchery was it by which its mesa and its valley and its wonderful +shore were forever set apart from other shores of California? Some +mystery of life brooded there from sea to mountain, suggesting so much +which was left for poor humanity to solve; it was only a whispered +suggestion, dim and delightful, as the music of the waves heard from the +Mission plaza, or as dreamy as the high film of fog, drifting high up +and tempering the sun's rays until they fell softly as a benediction on +the valley between blue sea and blue summit. + +[Illustration: "NEVER ON ANY OTHER SHORE"] + +His own life stretched before him like the brown levels and yellow +flatness of San Pedro; and there to the south, miles across the ranges, +was the heart of the dreamland he must not enter: another man had that +claim under fence. He gave voice to some self-condemnation of a sort +reserved for men who go _loco_ over a woman who forgets, and after hours +of brooding there alone by the shore, arrived at only one decision--the +California of the south ranges was no longer his own. All the width of +it was now narrowed to one little valley, where the poppies flamed over +forgotten graves and adobe walls, and the doves circled above a ruined +chancel. + +He rode into town, where some kind friends mentioned that Don Rafael +Arteaga and his bride were being _feted_ by the leading Spanish families +of Los Angeles, and he was invited to a dinner in their honor a week +hence. + +"I go to Mexico--I start to-day," he answered, briefly. Ten minutes +before, he had not thought of it. + +"To Mexico? You cover ground fast these days, Don Keith. On the new road +of iron they mean to make, you could not go so much faster than on the +horses you ride; you have the good American luck in the pick of them." + +"Yes, the good American luck!" said Keith Bryton, with a touch of +bitterness. "May your saints send you a better!" + +A man who stood near, and who much desired the invitation Bryton had +refused, shrugged his shoulders as the Americano mounted his horse and +rode away. + +"What better luck could a man have, than a chance to meet Dona Raquel +Estevan de Arteaga?" he queried of any who might care to answer. "The +bishop himself shows her honor, and they say she is working for the +Church against Downing, the Englishman, who holds the Mission lands +under Pico's sale. Sixteen years has the Church fought for those lands +in the courts; if she gets them back, she deserves the pope's blessing. +And the fool boy of an Americano rides south when he could meet +her--perhaps touch her hand!" + +But the fool Americano rode south and kept on riding south for many +dusty days. He crossed a corner of the Yaqui country, and then across +the ranges to the old mine, called the Mine of the Temple--the one of +which he had told Don Juan Alvara--was it so few weeks ago? It might +have been years instead of weeks, by his own feeling and attitude of +mind. He was riding back a different man. He evaded the few Mexicans as +he neared the mine; no turn of the trail was lonely for him. Memory +kept pace, and the murmur of one girl's voice spoke through the rustling +leaves of the mountains. + +A travelling priest, jubilant at the idea of comradeship, hailed him in +one of the mountain passes, and found him but a sorry companion. + +"This is a country," said the padre, "where the sight of a white face is +most welcome. Six months since I was sent to this parish, and few of +them have I seen. Now, I ride out of my way just to talk with an +American who works a mine up here. Your brother, is it? Well, he has a +good name with the brown folks. A lot of pagans they are! It is not a +priest they need here; it is a missionary the bishop should send to +teach them their religion anew. If ever they had any, it has been lost." + +But it was evidently the opinion of the padre that they had never really +secured any to lose. He discoursed at some length on the failure of the +Church to impress upon them the advantage of marriage. Few were the +wedding fees to be obtained from the Mexicans, while the heathen Indians +had some form of their own, arranged by the head of their clan, and it +was a disgrace to a land held under cross and crown for two +centuries--an endless shame! + +Keith assented, without heeding the list of Indian iniquities. He was +rather glad, after all, that Teddy had a civilized neighbor, willing to +be companionable. Teddy liked people too well to exile himself from them +but for the one thing--to go back north, able to cover one white throat +with pearls, or two white hands with diamonds. + +His greeting of his half-brother was a bit shy, though wholly glad, and +the padre served to bridge over the first few awkward moments. Both men +recognized the fact of a change in each since the Los Angeles days. +Teddy thought it due only to his clandestine marriage, and Keith felt +guilty as he realized how little, how very little, Teddy's marriage +meant to him now. While the padre was getting acquainted with the +Mexican, the two brothers walked apart, and talked of the chances of the +mine's success, and the failure of the backers to see the necessity of +using money more freely on the enterprise. + +"It's there, you know," insisted Teddy; "all this district is flooded +with stories of the ore taken out of it in the first days of the +Spaniards; then the Indians descended upon them, and there was a +slaughter, and no Spaniard dared venture into these hills for a +century." + +"Yes. We put in a good many fruitless days trailing those old legends," +assented Keith, "but only the Indian superstition tends to show that +this is the real mine of that history. The rich one may not have been +on this side of the mountain, since you have not yet struck the lode." + +"Don't let's talk about it, if you feel that way," suggested Teddy, "I +hear plenty of that from the others; and you didn't really come all the +way down here to talk mines. Say, old chap, you acted like a prince over +the--well, the wedding. I felt pretty nearly three inches higher when I +got your letter. I--I know I acted like a kid, but Angela wanted it +arranged so; and--as she about filled the whole horizon--" + +"Cut out the explanation, Teddy. A man is never sure of himself until +the right woman crosses his trail--or the wrong one. God knows I'm not +fit for alcalde in the case. At least, you married your wife." + +Teddy stared at him an instant, and then shouted with laughter. + +"Married my wife? Well, rather! How else could she be my wife?" + +Keith avoided the frank boyish blue eyes of Teddy, and turned away, +seating himself on a great bowlder and staring across the little +semicircle of the canyon basin, to where gnarled century-old trees +reached grotesque arms above some old stone ruins and fragments of +marble. Teddy looked at him an instant, and then whistled softly. + +"If it were any other man than you, Keith, I'd think--but it's too +ridiculous!" + +"Say it," suggested Keith. + +"Well, I'd say the wrong woman had crossed _your_ trail." + +"Not the wrong one." + +"Good Lord! you don't mean that by any chance it is at last the right +one?" + +"At last--the right woman." + +"And you sit there looking as solemn over it as a wooden Mexican god! +Wake up, old fellow, and tell about her." + +"There is nothing to tell. She is the right woman, and I shall never see +her again." + +"Keith!" + +"And I've come back here to tell myself so," continued Keith, doggedly; +"to say it over and over, and beat it into my brain, if I have any left. +The desert didn't help me--I thought this might." + +"This?" + +"These hills, and--speaking of it." + +His brother said nothing, only looked at him in wonder, as he rose with +hands thrust in pockets and walked the length of the little terrace +formed by the refuse of the mine. The two brothers had changed places. +It was now Keith, the cool, the indifferent, who had crossed some line +of emotional experience where speech was a relief--Keith, of all men! +Teddy wondered who the woman could be; she would be worth seeing. + +"So you see, Ted," observed the other, with a forced laugh, "you need +not explain things to me. When the woman comes, none of us cares much +what the other fellow thinks." + +"If she is the right woman, I'm mighty sorry, old man, that it's going +to be as you say--that you are not going to see her again." + +"Don't waste good sorrow! I'm the only fool in the case--she doesn't +care." + +"That's not so easy to believe," declared Teddy, loyally. "You probably +only asked her once, and then hit the trail before she could change her +mind." + +"Ask her. When people care, words are not so necessary." + +"Perhaps not, but girls do expect words; though the right girl--" + +"She doesn't know that she was the right girl; I may not have made it +clear. I was a fool who dreamed dreams and believed them true. Talking +about it doesn't help. I thought it might; that's all." + +He continued to walk the terrace, as though with a certain impatience at +having let go of himself. Teddy regarded him for a few moments of +awkward silence. Keith had never been demonstrative, and this sudden +confidence caught Teddy unprepared. He felt ill at ease, realizing that +it was no light sentiment, causing him to let go of himself and speak. + +"I reckon this particular mountain must be bewitched," he said at last. +"The only other time you talked of a girl--any special girl--was after +we were led across yon range by that girl of the convent. Even then you +talked of her only when the knock on your head sent you luny. What was +the name they called her? Spirit--Dona Spirit--Dona Espiritu! That is +it! I really thought for a few days of your ravings that we were going +to have a nun in the family; and now it's a new girl!" + +Keith regarded him for a moment, then in silence took out tobacco and +made a cigarette. Of what use were words? + +"I always wondered who that girl was and what became of her," continued +Teddy. "The old padre was as dumb as an oyster on the subject. Did you +learn more than her name?" + +"Not much," said Keith, briefly. + +"I always meant to. Funny how those crack-brained Indians let up on the +attack that night, when she slipped that ring on your finger and held up +your hand for them to see. It was the last thing I noted before I +keeled over. Those Indians have not forgotten that. They knew when I +came back here, and they seemed to watch either the mine or me,--I don't +know which it is. Once they asked an old Mexican for you; he speaks +their lingo. They described you as 'the man of the ring.'" + +"That's queer." + +"Did the girl tell you what the ring meant?" + +"Meant?" repeated Keith, questioningly. + +"Yes. To the tribe, it means more than a mere ring. The old Mexican +gathered that much. It had something the significance of a sceptre, and +was worn only by one of the rulers in the old days. When that girl put +it on your finger, the tribe thought it meant that she had picked you +out for marriage. She didn't tell you?" + +"No, she didn't tell me." + +"Well, it's all that saved our lives that night. You know the old padre +is dead. It was he did the sleight-of-hand work in getting the girl out +of sight before you got on your feet again. With some threat of eternal +flames, he shut the lips of every Mexican I tried to bribe to find her." + +Keith took the cigarette from his lips, and looked at him without +speaking. Teddy smiled and nodded. + +"Yes, I looked for her without your knowing it. You came nearer going +'over the range' in that fever than you ever realized. The English +doctor down there asked me who the devil 'Espiritu' was, and said that +she could probably do more to lower your temperature than his drugs. I +tried to locate her, as soon as I could hobble on a crutch, but it was +no use. The padre said she had taken the black veil: that shut us out." + +"Yes, of course," assented Keith, absently. + +"You never mentioned her name after you got on your feet, so I figured +that it did not really mean anything. Girls never did mean much to you, +individually, Keith,--until now." + +"Until now." + +"And now it's no use, since you can't see her again." + +Keith puffed away in thoughtful silence before he spoke. + +"Perhaps not. Yet--_quien sabe_? A sentiment may be like a sunrise, +lifting clouds for you and making you see things--things within yourself +you never suspected were there. Our trail in these hills followed the +light of the morning star once, and we got out of the wilderness to +safety: that star has meant something to me ever since. I can't possess +it, but the meaning of it is mine. I can't give myself to the right +woman,"--and he held out his hand and looked at it,--"but no conventions +of the world, no man-made walls can prevent the thought of me from going +to her--the thought which, after all, is the real me. When that is so, +who can say that even an unknown love has not its own uses? It may prove +the illumination of a whole lifetime." + +Teddy, with wonder in his eyes, laid his hand on his brother's shoulder. +"Old man, that kind of feeling is beyond me. I want my girl with me, and +I want her mighty bad. I've lived beside you all my life, and never +dreamed it was in you to care like that for any woman. It only shows how +little we know, after all." + +"Yes; how little, after all, until the right woman crosses the trail." + +"The chances are that we can never talk of it again. I know you _that_ +much! I told you this old hill of the temple was uncanny--bewitched,--and +it is. You never would have mentioned this to me in civilized places." + +"Perhaps not," agreed Keith. "And you're right--I could never speak of +it again." + +They never did. That night they talked only of Teddy's enterprise, and +covered much paper with many figures, and made fine plans for the +future. + +The next day it was that Keith, hunting in the hills, heard an unusual +blast from the mine, felt the ground tremble from the shock, and turning +back on the trail, met a Mexican with a bleeding hand and a cut face, +who urged him to hasten. It was the word of the padre! + +He reached Teddy's side only in time to accept "Angela--poor little +Angela--" as a life-long legacy. There had been an explosion. Graves +were made for the young engineer and three of his Mexican miners on the +side of the mountain. When it was all over, Keith Bryton climbed to the +heights above, where the broken walls of stone showed white and gray +among forest growth on the temple terrace. Below, and beyond the ranges, +lay the world. In his isolation of grief, he felt as alone as the +solitary mountain rising from the plain below, through which a river +ran. Far down the river, miles away, gleamed a cross on the chapel of a +convent. It was the old Mexican pueblo of which he had told Alvara. He +remembered saying to the old man that he would never come back; yet here +he was. How useless to say what one will or will not do in this world! +One must make allowance for the moves fate insists upon in the game of +life. + +Back of him, on a slight elevation, stood some broken columns, and +half an arch yet showed where an entrance had been, and under a dwarfed +and twisted oak half covered with tropical vines a bench of marble +gleamed. Two birds fluttered to the ground near him and turned +inquisitive eyes on the intruder. He watched them carelessly, until one +of them perched on a fallen block of stone ornamented with the +sculptured sun of the Aztecs. It brought back like a flash that other +day when he went from the presence of death to a ruined altar-place, +where the Aztec sun and the cactus commemorated some unknown Mexican +sculptor who cut the symbol of the faith of his people into the walls of +a Christian church. + +He closed his eyes, and the vision of that other day was only +intensified. The wind in the oaks back of him sounded like the surf on +San Juan's beach; and through it the slow, fateful words of a girl +kneeling in her wedding-veil echoed in his ears as it had done a +thousand times: + +"So long--as--we--both--shall live!" + +There were no weeping girls here, and no bells to toll out the death +message; but otherwise the atmosphere of the place, and the illusion, +were perfect. How--how had he chanced to enter into this half-pagan +atmosphere of death? Unconsciously, automatically, he turned and +re-turned on his finger the onyx ring at which Angela had laughed. + +He was still seated there when the miners who had filled the graves came +up the path, and with them the priest from the plains below. The +Mexicans halted outside the broken walls. Only one Indian, who had +followed at a distance, crossed the line of entrance, and stood apart, +watching and listening in a furtive way--watching the American +especially. + +"Many times I have heard of this place," said the priest, "but never +before have I been so far into the mountain. There are strange old +traditions of it in the accounts some of the early padres left. Their +king or chief became Christian and gave his sons to the Church, but the +main body of the people kept to many of their pagan rites. And this was +their temple. The men ask me if you continue with the mining, senor." + +He noticed they all listened for the answer, and looked relieved when he +said, "No." + +"They are all very glad, senor. They ask me to tell you they have no ill +will, but they say not any of their men will go into the mine of the +temple." + +"Some superstition?" + +"It seems so. They say one man always dies when outsiders meddle with +the mountain, but never before have three men died at once. They ask +you to let the company know that none of them will come back." + +"Very good," and Bryton arose and picked up the sombrero he had dropped +beside him. "I will tell them to bring foreigners if they mean to keep +on; but I doubt it. The cave-in down there means a fortune to dig out. I +don't think they have the capital." + +He was turning away, when he noticed the Indian. + +"Is he a workman?" + +The others exchanged glances, and then one of them stepped forward. + +"No, senor. He is one of the mountain people. No one knows where they +live. I know a little of their talk. He says for us all to go away, or +worse things will always happen. He--he wants to speak to you." + +"Well?" + +The man hesitated, and then said a few words, and the Indian replied in +a strange jargon with peculiar aspirated syllables. + +"He says," continued the interpreter, hesitatingly, "to ask if she is to +come back." + +"She?" + +Bryton's face flushed, as the priest looked at him curiously. + +"You have known those people before?" + +"I--my brother and I were lost once in the forest here. We--well, we +were made to feel we had trespassed; but some one--a sort of missionary +among them--made them lead us to the plain. It would have been better if +my brother had never come back." + +"And--?" + +The priest noticed Bryton's hesitation; so did the Indian, for he walked +direct to him, and pointed to the ring he wore, and looked from the ring +to Bryton's face. + +"Tell him," said the American, "that she is a man's wife, and lives in a +lovely land." + +"You see her--some day?" asked the Indian. + +"No--not ever again--perhaps." + +The Indian bent his head, and with a slight gesture as of farewell, +turned and walked swiftly away from them, around the bend of the +mountain. + +"Your words have an unusual interest," said the priest, as they walked +down toward the plain. "They suggest that the missionary might be the +one they spoke of here as the Indian nun." + +"This lady was not Indian," said Keith, decidedly. "Her skin was whiter +than either yours or mine. The Indians called her Dona Espiritu! It was +the only name they knew her by." + +"It was the same, and her father's name was Estevan," said the priest, +quietly. + +"Yes, I know now. His name was Estevan, but--" + +"And he was the man who died the awful death up there." And he pointed +back to the temple. + +"No!" Bryton stopped on the path and faced the priest, thus halting the +entire procession at a point where a yawning gulf of a canyon reached to +unseen depths below. + +"For the love of Christ--senor!" screamed the priest, while the Mexicans +in the rear clung to their burros and swore. + +"The man who was killed left no child," persisted Bryton. "I heard the +story." + +"A daughter was born six months after his death--after the wife had +taken the black veil of eternal renunciation of the world," declared the +priest, solemnly. "Now, senor, for the love of God, will you let us find +safer footing?" + +"Oh, yes. Pardon me!" and Bryton continued thoughtfully along the trail +to the plain below. When they reached a broader road where it was +possible to ride abreast, he asked one more question. + +"Father, does she know?" + +"Not unless some in the world have told her. Here, the old priest, her +uncle, had power enough over the wild tribe to make them promise they +would not tell her until she had lived twenty years. He died ten years +ago, but they kept faith. There are some people in the world who had to +know,--the lawyers and judges who settled the estate,--for Estevan was a +man of wealth. He carried wounds here from the war for California. The +child thought he died from the effects of those. Out in the world where +she has gone, that wild barbaric outbreak of her mother's people will +never be known; and of the few who have learned it who would tell her?" + +"True, father: who would?" + +[Music: _La Passion Funesta_] + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + + +He did not go north for a month. His letter to Angela contained a check, +which she at once invested in very becoming mourning, for which she of +course had to journey to Los Angeles. + +With her went Don Eduardo Downing and his wife, Dona Maria, who, with +Rafael, had unpleasant business to transact with the bishop, and were +irritable in consequence. Bryton called upon them at the home of the +ex-Governor of California. After Angela's first emotional outburst at +the details of Teddy's death and burial,--and regret that a Protestant +clergyman was not to be had,--she managed to come back to subjects +nearer home, and retail a few of the changes since the death of Dona +Luisa. + +There had not been time for many. Yet--well--there had been the +marriage, of course; and the relations who thought it so fine a thing +that Rafael married an heiress and a saint were not so sure now. The +tone of Angela and her slight shrug of contempt showed that she shared +their doubts. + +Raquel Estevan de Arteaga was in the city. She had ridden the sixty +miles on horseback, and all the old Spanish families were entertaining +her in a style magnificent as their means would allow; but all who cared +to have her must invite no heretic Americans, and it was understood to +be a promise to Dona Luisa. She did not wish to meet the +English-speaking people; not one had yet crossed her threshold; even Don +Eduardo, sharing some business interests with her husband, was not +welcomed, because he held fields of the old Mission, for which the +Church was fighting in the courts of law. + +The bishop himself had set the pace for courtesy toward Raquel. He had +called on her personally, had a long private interview (Angela's opinion +of clerical private interviews with young wives was expressed by another +shrug), and he made a point of calling on several families where she +visited. + +Dona Maria was of course justly offended. Her estates had been greater +than those of the Arteagas, and her family name was older in the land +than Estevan, which after all was only Spanish for Stevens. On this +subject it was easy to see Angela agreed perfectly with the wife of her +cousin. Each had built her own plan for certain social supremacies in +the little kingdom of San Juan, but neither had reckoned with the fact +that the girl from a convent in Mexico would assume a rule there such as +no one else had ever dared attempt, and emphasize it by barring out +heretics, even when married into Catholic families. + +What Rafael thought of it no one yet knew. He hated the old Mission, +above all places. The only time it was worth while was when the dances +were held in the old dining-room; and when his mother died he thought of +course no woman would ever wish to live there. A town residence was +assured, and thus closer connection with the new, progressive people. +But the bride of a day had decided differently: when a home befitting +their station was built for her in San Juan, she would move to it; until +then the Mission rooms would serve, and they must arrange it with the +bishop. + +To tell her that the bishop no longer had jurisdiction over the property +was of no use whatever. She had listened quietly to the legal details of +the auction sale, when it had all been bought by Eduardo Downing and +Miguel Arteaga. + +"That is right, to buy it when the place was sold for debt; any son of +the Church should do that," she conceded; "but to hold it,--to treat it +as a quarry from which to mine bricks and blocks of stone,--may the +saints intercede for your brother in his grave, who did such wickedness! +If your mother had known that a son of hers was fighting in the courts +of law against the Church, it would have killed her the day the word +reached her. If you people value money more than the blessing of God, I +will give you money for it--to you and your English partner; but not +another blast of powder must shatter the place of the altar." + +It was in vain they told her Dona Maria had a pious plan to blow down +the stonework--the most magnificent monument of such Indian labor ever +erected in that part of Mexico which is now United States,--and to build +on its site an adobe chapel of her own design. Raquel Estevan de Arteaga +listened quietly to all the plans, but shook her head. + +"It is sacrilege; it shall not be," she repeated. "Since gold is the god +of the English people, we will give them gold." + +"But you forget, beloved," put in Rafael. "Dona Maria is Catholic--is +Spanish--is--" + +"Rafael," said his bride, quietly, "will you listen a little? Then it +will be no need to speak of those things again--we will both +understand. The padre comes a stranger to San Juan as I do, but he comes +from a strange land, and cares not anything for these different races. +But I have all the names of those people from your mother, that I know +whom to avoid in this life--and in the next." + +"My mother was one of the old Spanish people; they were slow. Times +change." + +"Yes, times did change when men like Alvarado were pushed aside and a +quadroon ruled the politics and the Mission property. Thus California +paved the way for American rule. In politics and business men must meet +unpleasant people often, but it is not ever necessary for the ladies of +any family to do so; and, Rafael, here before your padre, two things I +must say. The heretics I have promised never to meet except as God sends +them in our path. As for the Spanish ladies you mention, if you do not +know that there is not a woman of noble Spanish blood in the length of +this valley, then you shut your eyes very tight when you might see. The +daughters of Don Juan Alvara have one Spanish strain in them; the others +are mixed people of Mexican, Indian, and negro, and few of them care to +remember their grandmothers. When you bring into my house Spanish ladies +of good breeding, I shall be glad to make them welcome, but I do not +care for the substitutes. The Indios by the river are of more interest, +for they need to be taught." + +This conversation had been repeated by Padre Andros to Dona Maria over a +game of _malilla_ and a glass of the new American drink called +whiskey,--a gift from the army officers, and enjoyed very much by the +ladies of San Juan; it suggested a drink made of chilis, because of the +appetizing burn it gave the throat. + +Padre Andros was frightened when he saw the effect of his recital. Dona +Maria was not so stout as most of the women of the mixed races; but as +he saw the dark color mount luridly to her face, and her eyes look +almost bloodshot with sudden fury, he set down the glass of whiskey to +cross himself, and dropped an ace in his perturbation. + +"For the love of God! senora," he exclaimed; and then it was Angela +entered the room and found her cousin's wife ill with a fury she durst +express only in prayers and maledictions against this girl brought to +San Juan by Dona Luisa to ruin them all! + +Only fragments of the cause of her fury reached Angela, despite all her +sudden sympathetic interest in the wife of her cousin, to whom she had +heretofore been rather indifferent. But she pieced the fragments +together, and as she told them to Bryton he could, with his own +knowledge of the early racial mixtures in the land, get a very fair idea +of the situation. The girl from Mexico had dared open the closet of a +forgotten skeleton. + +"Of course she rules Rafael just now, to a certain extent," conceded +Angela, carelessly. "He sees the Church and half the town at her feet +here; she is a novelty, and he sees everyone turn to look at her. But at +San Juan she will find no one at her feet, and her churchmen will be far +enough away. The padre there detests her; she stopped him from selling +bricks from the cloister pillars." + +"The padre and Dona Maria should make a strong team," observed Bryton. +"The woman need be strong to win against them--is she?" + +"How do I know? I've never spoken to her. She has nasty eyes. That's all +I can remember of her." + +"Nasty?" + +"Oh, it is the expression. I saw them once, and she made me nervous. +Perhaps it was because she divined that I was one of the 'accursed +heretics.' I understand that is the way the lower order speak of +Protestants!" + +"But she cannot be quite of the lower order, can she? Her father was of +the best Spanish and American blood ever joined on this coast, far +above the Arteagas." + +"Oh! So you also look up pedigrees here; I wonder why." + +"It is a country where you hear of them without question," he returned, +indifferently. "The people are always sparring among themselves and +referring to their ancestors--if they dare. Dona Luisa was a pure-blood +Spanish woman, but the Arteagas had a bad Indian and Mexican streak. She +saw it develop in her own children, and it gave her a bad fright. She +counted on this marriage bringing the last of them back to the old +conservative manner of life." + +"Ah!" She shrugged her shoulders contemptuously; "but you forget that +Raquel, the present Senora Arteaga, has also a Mexican streak." + +"No, I don't forget; but there are high class and low of every race. +Noble Indians and high-class Mexicans have gone into history. The +American makes a great mistake when he judges the high classes by the +masses. In this land one has to dig out the facts of each individual +line, if he wants to know the truth of a pedigree. But the lady from +Mexico seems to have drawn her distinctions very closely, and realizing +her own superiority, she dares dictate." + +"Even to her--husband?" There was just the slightest possible hesitation +at the title. + +"Why not, if she is the superior?" + +"But--oh, can't you see how all these marriages are a barter-and-sale +family affair,--money that is married, instead of people? If she was in +love with him as a--a real woman would be, she never would know she was +superior, never! Not that I believe she is," she added with a shrug; "to +me she looks as wooden as the saints on her own altar." + +He arose and walked to the window, staring out over the heads of the +people. + +"She may not be wooden to those she cares for," he said at last. + +"Perhaps not; but I'm certain of one thing: if she ever cared for any +one, it is not the man she married. If she cared, she would forget that +rigid fanatic sense of duty sometimes." + +"I came to talk of your affairs," he said, abruptly. "Teddy left some +mining shares; they may pan out later on. I have talked with a lawyer +about them; this is his address," and he handed her a slip of paper. +"Whatever funds are procurable he will turn over to you quarterly. Is +there anything else I can do for you at present?" + +"Yes," she returned; "you might be a bit human and sympathetic. You +seem to forget," and her red lip quivered in self-pity, "how utterly +alone I am among these Mexicans, and all their women jealous as fiends." + +He regarded her with a long, steady stare, and then smiled as he rose. + +"I don't blame them," he observed, quietly. "You have given more +attention to several of their men than you ever gave to poor Ted. +Where's your baby?" + +"Heavens! Do you suppose I could drag her on this trip, and a Mexican or +Indian nurse?" she demanded, impatiently. "That's so like a man! They +think a woman with a child should be merely a domestic animal, like +those dunces of Spanish women. I feel as if I were in jail, hedged +around with all their conventions. I don't dare walk on the street +alone, or with a man; I don't dare ride in a carriage with a man, and +it's no pleasure to go with those empty-headed women. Dona Maria is as +bad as the rest since I'm in mourning; it is a sort of prison, +forbidding the wearer a free breath!" + +"Take it off," he suggested, so quietly that he quite deceived her, and +she uttered a little cry of shocked appeal. + +"Keith! And poor Teddy--" + +"Angela!" and his hand fell heavy on her shoulder, "listen to me just +once. When Ted was alive I could bear to hear you mention his name, but +now that he is dead I--can't. He belongs to me now, and I forbid it." + +"Keith!" She gasped again, but this time in sheer fright. "And the +money--the shares you--" + +He laughed mirthlessly, and took his hand from her shoulder. His moment +of feeling gave place to amused appreciation of the real woman poor Ted +had never known. + +"Who says women are inconsistent?" he queried. "You are a living +illustration of the contrary. I have never seen you vary a +hair's-breadth from my first instinctive feeling concerning you, you +pretty baby kitten! You needn't look so frightened; you will get +whatever money is in reach. Now, don't go to whimpering! Get on your +bonnet, if Dona Maria may think it allowable for me to take you both for +a carriage drive. I promised Ted to do things for you, and I must make a +beginning." + +"Is that the only reason?" she began, with righteous indignation. + +"That is the only reason, my lady," he returned. "Are you coming?" + +A little later they were rolling along Spring Street, past the plaza, +and many heads turned to look at the golden-haired girlish little figure +in mourning, drooping beside Dona Maria, whose rigid, unsmiling, dark +features were the best possible foil. Keith Bryton, sitting opposite, +noticed the admiration she aroused. The caballeros who had swept +sombreros to the ground at the passage of the carriage in which Raquel +and the bishop were riding did so as a matter of reverence to a devotee; +but the rule of the woman whom Keith had called a baby kitten would +always be one of childish appeal, personal to a degree. + +Looking at her cynically, he tried to fancy her twenty years ahead,--the +mother of a grown daughter,--but failed. The daughter would have to be +guardian; the mother would always need one. She was watching him +furtively to see the effect this open admiration might have upon him. He +was the one man of them all who had ever dared treat her so carelessly. +His attitude had piqued her to the point where she had a brief tigerish +desire to rend his heart--his affections--if he had any! And Teddy was +the weapon. + +Of course she had regretted it all--there were other men with so much +more money. Still, as it had turned out, it was not so bad. She was +installed as a member of his family, and that was better than to +depend entirely on the cousinship to the Mexican Dona Maria. She was +really a little afraid of the swarthy black-browed women of the country. +To be sure, they sat around in fat content, with their bits of +embroidery or drawn work, and seemed to see nothing else; but she had +seen Dona Maria whip an Indian servant with her own hands one day, and +the blind rage in the dark face had ever after made Angela a trifle more +respectful. It was not nice to be entirely at the mercy of ignorant +power. Don Eduardo was always ready with gold pieces for a pretty woman, +but even the distant cousinhood might not be all the protection required +for a lady of Angela's beauty, if any animosity should ever take root in +Dona Maria's mind. + +So it was all well as things stood. Keith Bryton would, she knew, keep +to both letter and spirit of any promise he had made poor Teddy, and she +felt sure the fond boy had exacted much of the brother who he thought +could accomplish all things. + +Thus she decided, as she watched and weighed his apparent amused +indifference to the admiration she excited. Fair women were at a premium +in the City of the Angels. He had just arrived from the dusky tribes of +Mexico; before that he had ranged the desert land; but she realized with +resentment that no beauty of hers would ever make an oasis for him. +The men who did admire her he regarded as fools. + +He saw her glance from him, and she set her white teeth together with a +little click of absolute frustration. She had accepted his ungracious +invitation in order to show him the admiration her mere appearance on +the drive would excite, and it all weighed not an iota. Would he ever +really care for any one? Had he ever cared? + +Then he moved his hand, and the sun gleamed on the ring he wore, the +Mexican onyx with the Aztec eagle. It recalled the adventure over which +she had laughed at the Mission. She had never believed Teddy when he +declared that Keith's attraction for that queer Mexican nun was a +serious fact. Teddy knew so little, so very little, of the real feelings +of either men or women. He had gone to his death buoyed for any sort of +adventure by the absolute conviction that his wife adored him. Poor +Teddy! Never would any woman be able to fool Keith Bryton like +that,--not even the woman he would care for, if she ever did appear. + +While she thought so, and watched him, his face grew suddenly rigid and +colorless. The carriage of the bishop came down the street, the +palomentos with their golden coats and silver manes and tails shining +like satin in the sunlight. Rafael sat with his back to the horses, +looking very much bored indeed, but beside the bishop sat the woman who +had faced her on the hill of San Juan, and who had held her horse in the +middle of the road. + +She was prepared for the sudden light of appreciation in Rafael's +beautiful eyes, as he lifted his hat and let his glance linger and meet +hers for one swift instant of comprehension, but she was not prepared +for the sudden leaning forward of his dark-browed bride, and the quick +look with which she took in the two women in the carriage, and then the +colorless face of their escort. + +He looked at her levelly as he lifted his hat in acknowledgment of her +husband's salutation. If his glance held ever so slight a suggestion of +warning, it was unheeded by her. Her dark eyes glowed, her red lips +parted and lost their color as she rested one slender jewelled hand on +the carriage frame, and stared at him with incredulous eyes; one could +see that she did not even breathe as the carriages whirled past each +other; at least Angela noted it. + +By turning her head she saw Rafael put out his hand suddenly to his +wife, who had sunk back on the cushions beside the bishop. His manner +suggested that he thought her ill. Keith could see the same without +turning his head. But even after he observed the lace-draped shoulders +straighten themselves, and the head held again proudly erect under the +mantilla, he continued to gaze after them, unconscious that the blue +eyes opposite him were alive with curiosity. + +"One would think you were a long-lost brother, from the way that woman +stared," she remarked. "One would think she would show more restraint +when riding in state beside the bishop, and with her husband opposite." + +Keith recovered himself and turned his attention to her. + +"Was that Rafael Arteaga's wife?" he asked, carelessly. "I supposed it +was, but have not had the honor of being presented." + +"Well, they told me she would not notice heretics, but one heretic was +the only person she noticed in this carriage. How she looked at you! I +told you she had nasty staring eyes, like augers boring through one. Did +you see, Dona Maria? Did you not fear she would disgrace us all by +leaping into the carriage?" + +Dona Maria's black, bead-like eyes were regarding the young man +curiously. + +"It may be a custom of Mexico for ladies to show attention to strange +men in that way," she observed, guardedly. "It may be so. I had never +heard of it. The new lady of the Mission is teaching San Juan many new +things, but I do not think she will teach it that sort of manners. They +do not compare well with the American ladies' manners--no?" + +"I fancy it was only as your escort she was gracious enough to turn and +look at me; she might have fancied I was known to her. She looks very +young." + +"You would forget she was young if you heard her talk to the padre," +returned Dona Maria, significantly. "It was enough to bring a +malediction on all our heads to listen to it!" + +"The bishop has forgiven her; at least it looks so." + +"Oh, she is clever! He thinks she is a saint, this bishop. But the padre +knows!" + +She did not add, "and I know," but her thin cold lips with their +satisfied smile suggested as much, and Bryton, observing it, felt anew +that the girl from Mexico had a strong team to fight in Dona Maria and +the padre. + +[Music: _The Magpie's Reveille_ (Indian Gambling Song)] + + "A'a'a'i-ne! A'a'a'i-ne! + Ta'a'-ni-aine! Ta'a'-ni-aine! + Bita alkaigi dike yiska ne. + Gayelka'! Gayelka'!" + + TRANSLATION. + + The magpie, the magpie, here underneath, + In the white of his wings + are the footsteps of the morning. + It dawns! It dawns! + +[Music] + + + + +CHAPTER IX + + +When the night was old, and others slept, Raquel Arteaga crept in +silence to the bedside of the old Indian woman of the hill tribe who had +been her nurse, who was still her maid, and who was the one link she +kept near her of the old life. + +"Tia Polonia, awake!" she said, briefly; and as the woman did so, +frightened and full of questions, her mistress held up her hand and +rested herself on the side of the pallet, regarding the dark old face +with doubt. + +"Thy husband, beloved,--he has--" + +"It is not my husband this time, Polonia. He is quite safe at the +gaming-table, and will come in at sunrise with empty pockets. It is not +my husband. It is--" She paused a long time, scrutinizing every feature +of the old woman, who grew gray of visage under those smouldering eyes, +and her hands shook. + +"Darling, little one, thou art so like thy mother; more than ever when +angry, and it is night; and I--Holy God! It is like a ghost comes to my +bed to--to--ah, Dona Espiritu--mia!--what is the anger in thine eyes?" + +"Can a dead woman be angry?" demanded her mistress drearily, the +beautiful curved mouth quivering for an instant. "And it is a dead woman +they have made of me--all of you! You lied to me, Polonia, when you +brought word to me he had died there in Mexico!" + +The old woman covered her face with her hands, and sank back whimpering +on the pallet. + +"I trusted you, and you lied to me, all of you!" the girl repeated in a +hopeless tone of finality. "All these months he has been alive, and I +have not known. You liars--liars--liars accursed!" + +The old woman uttered a smothered shriek, and buried her face in the +blankets. + +"Not the curse, beloved, not the curse!" she begged, tremulously, "the +curse of your people. It means--it means--Ai! not the curse, little one! +Thou hast only meant to frighten me to tell you how it was, and I +will--I will! Only, child of the spirits, Dona Espiritu, bring not the +curse!" + +[Illustration: "YOU LIED TO ME--ALL OF YOU!"] + +She cowered and mumbled in a sort of palsied fear, but the girl sat +there untouched by her misery, looking at her drearily. Perhaps she had +some slight hope of denial, but Polonia's gray face put that out of her +reach. + +"Sit up," she commanded, and the old woman hastily scrambled into a +sitting posture, but with her hands over her eyes, her body still +rocking with fear. "Why did you do it?" + +Never before had Tia Polonia heard those hard cold tones from her +"querida"--her little one--her nursling of other days. This girl sitting +there erect in the glimmering light of the candle was really Dona +Espiritu of the tribe of the kings. + +"Excellencia," she muttered, "it is true; I did sin. But the padre gave +me the word. He said your soul was lost; that the man had bewitched you +as--as your little mother had been bewitched when she--when she left +religion for your father, and in the end they both died--and so +soon!--and--and I wanted you to live, Excellencia! and I wanted your +soul to live; and--so it was I took the word of the padre to you, and +told you he was dead--and wished that he was dead--but it was all no use +at all! On his hand when the fever burned was your ring--it kept him +alive and he could not die, and all day and all night he said, 'Dona +Espiritu! Dona Espiritu!' The padre heard, and I heard. The American +brother, he heard too, and asked the Indios who was Dona Espiritu, and +where did she live, that he might send for her. But it was no use. The +padre made them all afraid for your soul, so that I told you the lie. +Now it is all said, and my life is going out of my body at the curse of +your anger." + +In fact, the fear in the old creature had worked on her own nerves, so +that her final words were very faint. She spoke as one half swooning, +and put out her hand in pitiful plea for help. + +"Ah--the good padre," said the girl, bitterly. "Well, you see how it has +all ended. The padre died, and has gone to God to answer for the lie; +and the man he wished dead is alive--alive--alive, and oh--Mother of +God! is happy with--with--" + +Her cold self-control melted in a flood of tears, and she flung herself +face down on the pallet beside the frightened Indian woman, her form +shaken with shuddering sobs of absolute despair. + +The dawn was near. All the night she had walked in her room alone, +stunned and wordless over this thing she could not fight, or reason, or +pray away; and now, having heard it all,--even of his calls for her when +unconscious,--she had let fall for the first time the cold mask she had +worn since the death of Dona Luisa, and since the significance of her +vow had been revealed to her by the days and nights of Rafael's life. + +She wept in a wild abandonment of grief at the hopeless vista of years +reaching on to the edge of the world where death is. It had all been +dreary enough before; but now-- + +When the birds began their welcome of the day she was still lying prone, +but silent. The tempest of feeling had passed, and her Indian woman +stroked her hair softly, and waited, and did not speak. At last she +rose, and looked out on the yellowing light touching the purple of the +mountains. + +"This is only a dream of the night, Polonia," she said, with a great +sigh; "sleep again, and forget it all." + +But the old woman clung with trembling hands to the folds of the girl's +gown, and rested her cheek on the silken slippers. + +"And the curse, darling? what of the curse of the lie?" + +"Curses come home to the people who utter them," said the girl, +drearily. "On my head they all lie--the curse by which I was made blind +for a little, little while of life, and which now allows me to see when +it is too late. The curse of God has followed our people; no blessing of +the Church can wipe it out." + +"But I--I--beloved?" + +"The sin that is for love is not so black a sin, and it was your love +the padre trusted to--your fear that I was bewitched and lost. But it is +all over; we are in a new land, and this is a new life." + +"And--he is happy--without thee?" + +"I have seen his wife; people call her beautiful. I saw him almost +touching her, yet I did not scream." + +"Mother of God! his wife!" + +"I heard her name,--it was enough. His I did not need to ask; I +remembered." + +"But--dear one--it is better that he is married. Pardon, beloved--I am +at thy feet, and I feel thy heartache. But, after all, is it not to +thank the saints that he is married?" + +"Perhaps. Otherwise, he might say to me some day, 'Come!' And the +witchcraft of the ring might hold, and--" + +"Holy Mother! and then--" + +"And I--God knows what I might do, Polonia." + +And then the old Indian woman was left alone, mumbling prayers and +crossing herself. + +Later she got up and went to the priest of Our Lady of the Angels and +brought a bottle of holy water to sprinkle on the threshold of the +street door, and all sides of Dona Raquel's room, that no curse of +witchcraft or bad dream of the night might have power over the days. + +It was broad daylight when Rafael came home whistling gayly a dance of +melody. He had been gifted with unusual good luck, and his pockets were +full of gold pieces. He threw a buckskin sack of coin on his wife's bed +before he noticed that she was not lying there. + +"Hola! Raquelita mia! There is plenty to pay for masses; your priests +always want money for that sort of thing. Since you look after my soul, +I pay for the prayers when I have good luck." + +Raquel arose from where she knelt at the little altar in the corner. + +"Oh, is that where you are? What need to pay the priests when you do +enough praying for an army?" + +She smiled absently, but did not speak. He stood watching her as she +brushed her mass of dark, slightly waving hair. + +"Let your woman do that," he said at last, with perfunctory solicitude. +"It tires your arm, and I don't want you tired to-day. There is a +picnic, and we should go." + +"Which of our friends make it?" + +"It is Dona Maria Downing, who, as our one neighbor down the country, +wants to add to the entertainment Los Angeles gives you. It is to make +peace with the bishop, I think; at least, so it looks. He is invited. +You can help them to be friends. Is that not the duty of us both as good +Catholics?" + +She halted in her task and looked at him quietly. He was plainly set on +being very agreeable, for some reason; too seldom had he mentioned their +faith but to scoff at the rigid rules of his mother and his wife. + +"You want it very much," she said; "but why? You do not care at all for +Dona Maria's personal peace with the bishop. That can be arranged +without a picnic to the hills. It only needs that they give back, of +their own free will, that which belongs to the Church, and make a +confession that it was wrongly held." + +"If you would only talk to her of this graciously, instead of demanding +it," persisted Rafael, gently, "much could be effected. Dona Angela +thinks for certain--" + +"Dona Angela?" + +"Oh, I mean her--the relative who is with her now--the Mrs. Bryton who +drove with her yesterday. The bishop asked who she was--you remember?" + +"I remember," she said, quietly, though a little shudder touched her. +"But I am tired of this town, Rafael. I meant to tell you so this +morning. I want to ride home to-day. Dona Maria's merry-makings do not +attract me. Our business here is over; let us go." + +"Holy God! but you are a wife for a man!" he cried in sudden fury. "I +weigh you down with jewels and silks and laces, and you would bury them +all with yourself in that old rat-hole of a Mission. I wish to God the +padre and Dona Maria had blown down every brick of it before you saw the +accursed place!" + +"Accursed? The Church of God? Rafael!" + +"Ay, accursed, since you will know!" he repeated. "Every old Indian of +San Juan can tell you that." + +"Some Indian, perhaps, who has had to be whipped by the padres," she +remarked, with quiet scorn. + +"You don't believe me?" he cried. "Well, you shall! Sit down--sit down +and listen for once, and you will be glad to keep out of the +curse-haunted place." + +She regarded him with a little tolerant smile, and drew a serape of blue +around her, and curled herself on the foot of the bed and waited. + +"It is early for stories," she observed; "but since it is your +pleasure--" + +"Not any pleasure has any of it been to me from first to last," he +retorted, "nor any pleasure will it be to whoever holds it! You think +you are strong, your saints will help you! But no saint ever put on an +altar--not even that of the Virgin herself--can take off the curse from +San Juan till the altar is bathed in human blood, as the tiles of the +floor have been bathed--that is the curse of Sahirit." + +She stared at him with wide eyes and blanching face. + +"Until the altar is bathed in human blood, as the tiles of the floor +have been," she whispered. "Rafael! That--that is of a religion older +than the life of Christianity in Mexico. God of Gods! Does it follow me +here?" + +"Follow _you_!" and he laughed contemptuously; "it is a story older than +our grandfathers. Only the old Indians whisper it now each time ill luck +comes to any of us--and I've had enough! When they picked up Miguel +tramped into the earth by the cattle, only the white men would help--no +Indian; they knew it was the curse coming true." + +"Tell me," she said, briefly. Her lips were white, and she shuddered +with cold, and drew the serape close. + +"You'd rather hear some old Indian tell it," he answered; "they make +one chill when they count on their fingers and toes the things the curse +has brought. We had a curse of our own in the Arteaga family: my mother +was always in prayer because of that; she never knew that Miguel had +bought an interest in another." + +"Go on--tell me! How comes the rule of the Aztec altar to this Christian +temple?" + +"Aztec? I did not say Aztec. I know nothing of their mummeries. But it +can't be that--there have been no Aztecs since the time of Cortez and +the priests." + +"I--I have heard there is one hill tribe still refusing the saints, and +giving the sun worship," she said, slowly. "But go on; tell me!" + +"Sun-worship! yes, that's the thing!" he cried. "A man, who was a +heretic of Mexico and a great builder of stone, killed a priest and a +woman down there. Some say the woman was his wife. He was to have his +head cut off for it, but word went down from here that such a man was +needed by the priests of San Juan; they wished to build a stone church +instead of adobe brick, as all the others were, if only a master mason +could be sent to them. They had soldiers to guard him, even if the man +chanced to be a convict, as many of the guards had been, and they got +the viceroy to help; and in the end the heretic who had killed a priest +was sent to San Juan. The old Indios say he looked as big as two men, +and he worked as he pleased. When the padres interfered he sat down and +looked at the piles of stone and did nothing, and nothing could move +him. They could have shot and buried him, but that would not build their +church, which was to be the finest in the Californias. So they had to +let him alone, and he built it as pleased himself. Their ground plan +only he accepted. It was like a cross, as you see it now, but on no +other part of the church was any symbol of Christianity--only stars and +other things which some say are flowers and some say are suns and moons, +and on the corner-stone and key-stone of the high altar is carved a +thing no Christian can read, not even the padres--and somewhere in those +symbols is held the curse." + +[Illustration: "R[~U]ELAS ME FECIT. ME LLAMA SAN JUAN. 1796."] + +"Who says? Did he?" + +"He? No; he died laughing, and refused the blessing of the priest. One +thing only he said when he read the words on the oldest bell, as he +built a place in the tower for it. The name of the maker is on the bell; +you can see it yet; it is Ruelas. 'So Ruelas made you--iron-tongue,' a +soldier heard him say, 'and your name is San Juan. Well, Senor +Ruelas, you only have your name in this work. The good padres will see +that my name is forgotten, but instead of a name, I will leave myself, +and so long as stone stands on stone I will call louder and farther than +your iron tongue when rung your loudest! When the storms of centuries +shall beat out every star and moon and sun in the stone of the temple, +the man from Culiacan will be remembered here in Sahirit.'" + +"Sahirit?" + +"The Indian name for the valley was 'Quanis Savit Sahirit'; you can see +it on the church records." + +"And it means?" + +"No one knows, and no one cares; it may mean another curse, for all I +know. The Indios either do not know or will not tell." + +"But--" and she drew in a long breath of relief--"what the man from +Culiacan said to the bell--the thing the soldier heard--was not a curse; +it was only that the beautiful work should be remembered." + +"Oh, yes, that! But there was a prophecy years before, when the +corner-stone was set in its place and blessed by the padres, and the +Indios were all there on their knees saying a rosary, and the viceroy +and all the dignitaries. An Indian hunter was also there from the south, +and he was a stranger. He looked at the thing carved on the +corner-stone, and he looked at the builder, who leaned against the wall +and laughed when the holy water touched it; and the stranger crossed +himself, for his mother was a convert; but to the captain of the guard +he said the thing I told you, and the captain of the guard was of my +father's family. So it was repeated down to our time." + +"But the words--he said what of a prophecy?" + +"He said human blood, and not holy water, must baptize the stones and +the altar of a temple with those signs. He was afraid the padre would +put malediction on him if he told him that the blessing of a Christian +saint was not so strong as the gods of the Indians, but he would not +stand or kneel beside the lines where the church was to be, and he would +not tell why he was afraid. He said he did not know what would happen +there: it might be a tidal wave from the sea in sight, or it might be a +pestilence, for the people were very wicked and very dirty, but it was +marked with a sign for evil, and it would be well if the walls never +went higher." + +"Well?" + +"They tried to get him to tell the padre, so that the builder might be +whipped, but the stranger Indian was afraid. He said he wanted to live +to see his children again, and they lived south in the hill country; +and he ran away when they tried to keep him, but he had warned some old +Indios, and when the first earthquake cracked the walls, they all +remembered." + +"And--?" + +"The mason laughed, but mended the cracked walls and went on at work, +always singing, always working, even before sunrise. The old Indios who +helped said it was at sunrise hour only that he worked on the keystones +with the suns and star things, but they maybe lied. And after the +dedication of the church he died as he lived, laughing and a heretic; +and when the earthquake came and the tower of the bells fell, and the +tiles of the floor were wet with the blood of the thirty-nine lives +crushed out there, then the old Indios whispered and remembered many +things; for the prophecy of the strange learned Indian of the south had +come true." + +"And--the altar? Did--some one--" + +Her lips were stiff as with cold, and she could scarcely articulate. + +"Holy God! how white you are, Raquel!" he exclaimed. "I thought you were +not a coward like the other women. Take this wine--take it! Por Dios, +but you gave me a fright!" + +She swallowed the wine, and smiled absently at his excitement, and drew +the serape closer. She did not speak again for a long time, just sat +staring out toward the blue of the hills. + +"Are you in a trance?" he demanded. "Santa Maria, but you are a wife to +come home to! If I interest you at all, I have to talk to you of things +bad enough to scare the devil. Now you see why Dona Maria blows down the +walls--they were accursed from the beginning. She thinks maybe she is +doing a pious thing, who knows?" + +"Selling to others the stone that is accursed?" + +"Oh, that is a side issue. But I think truly, Raquelita, she is afraid +of the bishop now, since you have come. I even think she wants to be +friends; Dona Angela told me. She has promised that she will build a +chapel there of adobe, if the bishop will give his benediction. Much of +bad luck is coming to them, and she is growing afraid." + +"Yes; she has no sense of justice in her; she has only fear," returned +Raquel. "Let her build chapels if she likes, but the blessing of God was +put on those stone walls, as well as the curse of a heretic, and what +she has done is sacrilege. I will do nothing to countenance it, or allow +it to continue." + +"But, at least, you will do one thing," he said, emphatically. "You have +heard enough of the curse to show you why it is no place for human +beings to live. Only half the curse is carried out. The tiles have been +baptized by human blood--but not the altar. You will stay here with live +people, and let the old ruin wait alone for the curse to be lifted." + +"I will go back," she said, with sudden decision, dropping the serape +from around her shoulders and beginning to braid her hair. "No, you need +not swear like that, Rafael; God would shut His ears if He heard you. +You have told me a fine story of fear, and some of it may be true, but +our duty lies there. We may lift the curse; we can go back and try." + +Her husband sprang to his feet and flung his chair crashing into the low +window opening on a veranda. The shattered glass fell in a glittering +heap, but the noise of it did not drown his oaths. + +"It is no use at all to break the windows of our friends, Rafael," +observed his wife; "and neither the saints nor Our Lady the Virgin will +allow such curses as yours to be heard. There are dangers here for--for +both of us, perhaps,--dangers more to be afraid of than the walls of the +good padres. I ride back to-day." + +"You think of it as all past, that curse?" he demanded, threateningly. +"Well, you think so! Priests have gone mad there, though the Church +keeps it quiet. Since the year Don Eduardo and Dona Maria bought it, +what has happened? All their land is slipping away. To-day she is +building an adobe on the old Mission ranch, to hold one hundred and +sixty acres in case they lose all the rest of their thirty miles of +ranches. Two of her sons have been killed in the streets--one by a +woman. All that remains is slipping slowly through their fingers. It is +like a handful of wheat: the closer they try to hold it, the less they +have in their hands. All they try is of no use. When they first bought +those old walls of the Mission at Pico's auction, they were masters of +the land, but what of that?" + +"If it is a curse, they earned it by tearing down the temple consecrated +to God, that is all!" + +"All? Miguel, my brother, blew down no walls; he did no harm to anything +at all. He only bought an interest in the Mission lands, and claimed +some living-rooms as his share, and he is struck like the others by the +curse, and does not die in his bed either, but is trampled into the +earth until no one can see him!" + +"But that may be the other curse working--the curse on the Arteagas. You +people seem to have earned a great many! Is it not time some of the +family should try to live for blessings?" + +He did not answer, only stared at her with angry eyes and lips twitching +in wrath he could not express. She looked at him an instant, and +stretched out her arms wearily. All the glorious world of love about +them, yet never aught of harmony in their two lives linked together. She +had never seen the life domestic of young people. She did not know what +it might mean to other women, but there were days when she grew sick +with the dread of future years, the endless prison of her vow, the-- + +Suddenly she turned to him with a little gesture of appeal, almost +tremulous. It was such weary work to battle constantly; and his mother-- + +"Rafael," she said, gently, "the blessings are in the world +somewhere--shall not we try to find them? The old lives of the +maledictions are gone. Ours is the new life, and we have done no wrong +to expiate. And it may be, if we live as--as your mother would have +wanted us to live, that the saints--" + +"To the bottom of the sea with your saints!" he broke in, angrily. "Por +Dios! you are always dragging the dead out of their graves to make the +days like a funeral. I prefer most the picnic in the hills, and I go +to-day." + +"So do I," she answered; "but it will be to the hills of the south by +the sea. To-night the moon shines, and the ride will be better than a +picnic of your political friends." + +"By--" + +"It is no sort of use for you to make empty oaths, Rafael. I leave this +town to-day; with you if you are wise, without you if you are not. But I +myself--I go!" + +He went out and slammed the door, and directly she heard him tell Juan +Castillas that he had married one of the wooden saints of the Mission +come to life. + +"I am glad it is not one with the broken glass eyes and the missing +fingers," laughed Juan. "Dona Raquel is the most beautiful woman in the +Californias to-day." + +She turned from the window and looked at herself in the mirror. The most +beautiful woman in the Californias! Was that so? Could it be? Yet what +was beauty, after all, if-- + +Between herself and the glass another face seemed to arise,--the +blue-eyed childish face for which she had been forgotten. + +"Holy Mother!" she moaned, and covered her own with her hands. "Of what +use is beauty to a woman who is not beloved?" + +[Music: _El Tormento de Amor._] + + Tormento de amor, + passion que devora, + Tu marchi taste + la fuente de mi vida. + + + + +CHAPTER X + + +"I wasted the holy water on the doorway of the sala and the bedroom," +grumbled old Polonia, ensconced among the serapes on the carreta; "I +should have kept it for the road to the sea. She rides away from him +alone; but it is a witchcraft, all the same." + +Secretly the old woman gave sympathy to the handsome Rafael, who loved +women of gaiety and fine clothes. The town was a very good place to +stay, and the band played, and there was a good circus; and to choose +instead a nasty old Mission where a cross priest scolded, and smoked, +and drank himself stupid each dinner-time! What kind of a girl would go +back there? + +Still, the old Indian knew that she was not of wood, like the statues in +the old church, let the husband think as he might! Last night had proven +she could be her mother's own child in a storm of passion. It was +perhaps for the best that she did not love her husband so madly; for if +he should ever prove untrue,--and men of course were so--what might not +happen? + +She thought of the witchcraft of the mother, and crossed herself. + +The moon, the beautiful moon of the month of Mary! shone round and +silvered in the blue above the mountains, as the blaze of the sun sank +into the western sea. South lay the ranch of San Joaquin, and Raquel, +for all her thirty-mile ride, was sorry. She would have no excuse to +ride past; it was the one slight of the country to pass the house of an +acquaintance, and this family was one deserving of honor. The soft dusk +of warm lands had stretched over the level. The sweet clover along the +road had a deeper note of perfume, and the patches of mustard bloom +added its own spicy fragrance. Gladly she would have ridden on alone in +the perfect night, but it would not do. She cared little for the herd of +people, but she always tried to keep in mind what the Dona Luisa would +have done in the little duties toward the opinion of the valley, and +she had no idea of making a scandal, or of appearing to ride in secret +from the town where her husband was still detained. + +So, when the dogs barked, she galloped forward to the ranch-house, and +was met with excited welcome from the mistress and her two vivacious +daughters and their cousin Ana Mendez. All the news of the town they +asked for. They had heard wonderful things of the courtesy shown her by +the new bishop, who was not given to showing much pronounced attention +to even the devout of the faith. They had rejoiced each day to hear of +the honors showered on her by the families of the city. It was as if a +queen had arrived in their valley--and to leave it all and ride alone in +the night! + +Ana cut their queries short and bade them see to old Polonia, that she +might be fed and rested well, and the driver also, and then carried her +guest to her own room, where she put her hands on Raquel's shoulders and +looked into her eyes, and then without a word led her to the shrine in +the corner, where they both knelt. + +When the prayer was over and she had seen her guest supplied with bread, +and red wine, and olives, and sliced beef, she regarded her sadly a +moment, noting that only the wine was swallowed, and that the girl +looked pale in the candle-light. + +"Poor little dear," she said, softly, and patted her shoulder and spoke +with the tenderness of intimacy. "I think now thou wert only a child +that morning in the wedding-veil, when she gave thee that vow and died. +Thou hast such strength in looks, my Raquelita, no one remembers how +young in life thou art. But I see now how it is. Rafael is the son of my +mother's cousin, and I know that blood! You but give the word, and my +uncle shall ride to Los Angeles in the morning and say what is right to +be said to Rafael. We know those boys--Miguel too," and she crossed +herself. "My uncle always look himself to the door-key when that Miguel +Arteaga come with a serenade. Oh, we know those boys in this valley +better than their mother, who thought to guard Rafael from the heretics. +Holy Mary! No heretic in the land lived worse than the life on Miguel +Arteaga's ranches!" + +"That does not make any difference at all," said the girl, wearily. "I +took the vow, '_So long as we both shall live_.' That seems a long time, +my dear Ana, but I must have not one other thought in this life." + +"And he sends thee home?" + +"No; this is not his fault--do not think it," and she evaded the eyes of +Ana. "He will follow, now that I have come; I am most certain of that; +but he was in a rage, of course, and if I would live there in the town +he would do anything to please me, almost. But I feel weak some days. +I--I am not strong enough to fight the people there whom his mother was +afraid of. In my own house they will not come. In my own valley I may +keep my promise." + +"Poor little dear," moaned Ana again. It was a good hope, and the girl +did not seem to have much else to live for; but Ana had known the +Arteaga men for many years, and had her doubts. + +"It is time that Rafael were at home," she conceded. "Juan Flores is +around the range again; some say El Capitan is with him, and they are on +this side. Last night they had supper at Trabuco ranch; they did no harm +there, but that does not mean that he will do no harm elsewhere. Avila +let him have horses once when the marshal was close behind; since that +time Avila's house is safe, and his herds as well." + +"And Capitan?" + +"Oh!" Ana's tone was carefully careless. "No one seems certain he is +along. He does not so often come this way; for a year he has been +somewhere in Sonora--only when the horses are picked for the government, +or the Arteagas have a fine lot broken, does he cross to this country. +There is where Rafael needs guarding more than from heretics." + +"From Capitan? He--he--would not kill--" + +"No," said Ana, slowly; "I never think he wants Rafael to die; he only +wants him not to be happy; always he wants Rafael to remember he is not +so far away but he can do him harm. Rafael hates the lonely Mission +valley on account of that. In a town Capitan never can make him afraid +so much." + +"Rafael is not a coward, I think," returned Raquel. + +"No, but he knows Capitan does not forget--there was a girl between them +once. Rafael is the handsomer, so he got her. Oh, that is long ago. But +Rafael was foolish and laughed too loud, and so he has to pay!" + +"But I think that is a mistake. I heard all about the trouble; his +mother told me. Capitan fights the government only, and takes horses +from the Arteagas because they go with the Americanos as friends; that +is all. We heard it all at San Luis Rey as we drove north--you +remember?" + +"Oh, yes, I am not forgetting that," and Ana laughed. "I listen all the +time to what his mother thinks she knows about that; and it is true, +too, but not all the truth. I could tell you--" + +She stopped suddenly, not certain it was wise to tell the girl the +thing causing her amusement, for, after all, it was not really funny; it +was serious enough in itself, it might frighten the girl very much. No +other in her place would live one hour in the valley, or ride at night +with only one man and an old Indian woman as guard. + +"If you know that I have been told lies, you had better tell me the +truth," said Raquel. "It may cost me more to find it out alone than to +hear it from a friend." + +"That is true," agreed Ana, after a moment of thought. She went to the +door and looked in the outer room to be sure no curious ears were there. +She could hear ecstatic cries from the girls, who were giving old +Polonia good things to eat, and plying her with endless questions. She +was recounting the brilliant worldly scenes her old eyes had lately +witnessed, and pitying herself a little that she could not remain; for +each day had been finer than the day before. And the horse-races, and +the fine cavaliers, and Dona Raquel always in the finest carriage--Holy +Mary! but it was a thing to see! + +Ana closed the door tightly and came back and sat down beside Raquel and +took her hand. + +"My aunt and the girls are over their heads in delight out there," she +remarked, dryly; "and I will tell you a thing no one has been told +concerning that ride from San Luis Rey. Rafael lost some fine horses +that night--do you remember?" + +Raquel did not; she might have heard--but Dona Luisa's death, all that +sorrow, all the many and quick changes, had blotted out the fainter +records of that day. + +"Well, when we stopped for coffee at the camp the cook told us; you may +not have heard. However, they were taken after you went into the river. +You have not forgotten that?" + +"How could I? Oh, yes, I remember! The priest told me that night. How +strange it should have all been crowded out of my mind! He told me to +give Rafael a message of warning. What was it? What was it?" + +She clasped her hands over her brows and tried to remember. Her first +meeting with Rafael beside the dead body of his mother had driven out of +her mind the message she was to have delivered. It was a warning, a +warning of some sort; that much she was sure of, and--what was it about +her father--her father's name? + +"I think," said Ana, speaking softly and watching her, "that he told you +Felipe Estevan's daughter had saved Rafael Arteaga a treasure that +night." + +"Anita! So he did; and you know the words, the very words he spoke to +me!" + +"I know more, Raquel mia; I know what the treasure was." + +"And--?" + +"It is not nice to tell," and Ana hesitated. "But he saw you there that +evening with his own eyes." + +"The priest?" + +"Yes, the priest. He saved you from being carried to the hills by the +Juan Flores robbers, while Capitan took others of the men and secured +the chests of wedding gifts from the old Mission. Oh, it was all planned +for the one big revenge on Rafael Arteaga. But he saw you, and so--" + +"And that priest saved me from them, Anita?" + +"Yes, he saved you--the priest--and sent you back to your friends, and +sent the men across the mesas--because you were Estevan's daughter. But +he did not try to save Rafael's horses; that night many of the finest +were headed eastward and never came back." + +"And if--if the padre had not been there at the right moment, I--" + +"It is not a nice story, at all," acknowledged Ana. "They are rough men. +One of them would have married you, and you would never have cared to +see your friends again, and Rafael never would have found you." + +"Mother of God! He hates Rafael like that, yet lets him live?" + +Ana laughed a little and shrugged her shoulders. + +"Capitan is like that," she observed. "No one is like him. If Rafael's +life were in danger this hour, Capitan would ride to save him. Oh, he +does not mean that he shall die while young, and handsome, and rich, and +beloved!" + +Her tone had a little hard ring for a moment; her eyes were sparkling +with a certain admiration for the character she was describing. The +story had brought the color back to Raquel's face, and she listened +feverishly. What strange, strange things could be possible in the +smiling valleys of San Juan! For the moment she forgot the dull ache in +her heart which had driven her to ride alone back to sanctuary. + +"And you know all this, Anita; even the words of the padre! How?" + +She caught Ana's hands in hers impetuously, and made her look in her +eyes. + +"He told me," said her friend, simply. + +"Then you know him? You see him sometimes?" + +"Sometimes." + +"And he is called--?" + +"Libertad." + +"Padre Libertad--the Liberated? I never have heard him spoken of. Where +can I find him? Anita, I will go alone, but this feud shall be ended. He +will help me. And I--I never knew what he saved me from that night. I +scarcely thanked him. He was so strange, so abrupt, so masterful, I +accepted all he did, and never knew! Tell me. Anita. I will go to him--I +will--" + +"No one goes to him," said Ana. "He never stays in one place. If you see +him, you see him--but--" + +"But he comes to San Juan?" + +"Oh, yes, he comes to San Juan once a year at least, so they will not +forget him." + +Ana's lips curled in a little smile, quickly suppressed. + +"But, Anita, that he tells you all these things, so that you know the +reasons of Capitan--" + +"Oh, Capitan is a sort of cousin of our family. Even when he is outcast, +I do not want him to lose his soul; so I--my people do not know--but +always I pay for a mass when I hear that the robbers have killed a man. +I never think that Capitan would like to kill; still, it might happen. +So I remember--as I remembered him when I was a little girl, and when I +was married--and I pay for a mass, that is all." + +"I am glad to-night, very glad you tell me all this, Anita. Not glad +that it is so, but, thanks to God, it is something to do--to do--to +do!" + +"And what?" asked Ana, regarding her curiously. Heretofore the wife of +Rafael had appeared to her self-restrained and cold, but to-night-- + +Raquel caught her hand and pressed it, and laughed. + +"You are saving me to-night, Anita, and you do not know it," she said, +with feverish intensity. "I was unhappy when I rode to your door; so +tired of all the world that I could think of nothing sweeter than to +ride on and on to the sea, and into it, and go to sleep there." + +"Raquel! That is a mortal sin!" + +"So it is, but I shall do penance, and when the padre comes again, O my +dear Ana, you alone will not pay for the masses; we can do many things +for good together, you and I. You must come to me to the Mission; you +must! I have had many things to fight alone, Anita, and I never can tell +you what they are. But this new thing we can fight together, +darling--you for your relation and I for my husband and my promise; and, +the saints helping us, we shall win, Anita, and it will all come right; +and thanks to God I came to you this night!" + +Her eyes were alight with excitement, her cheeks flushed and burning. +Once or twice she shivered slightly; and Ana, who had been reassured by +the beautiful color so quickly replacing the pallor of the cheeks, grew +all at once apprehensive, as she noticed that the hands of Raquel were +very cold indeed, and that her laugh was nervous, and that her teeth +chattered, and that the words she tried to utter grew indistinct. + +"Holy Mary! I have given her a fever," gasped Ana. "That my tongue had +been blistered, before I babbled all that to her! Raquel, for the love +of God don't shake like that, and don't laugh at me! Stop it! The laugh +is the worst of all! Raquel--Raquelita--darling mine!" + +But Ana's frenzy of fear was so irresistibly funny, that Raquel +continued to laugh, and the laughter grew louder after the other women +were called in, and helped to undress her and wrap her in blankets to +smother the chill. That night, candles never went out in the house, and +Ana knelt before the altar with prayers to the saints that they might +undo the folly of her tongue. But old Polonia knelt instead by the couch +of Raquel and cursed the American, that he had not died there in Mexico. + +In the early dawn Polonia crept unseen to the aquia, and of soft clay +made an image of him, and thrust pins through every vital portion of it, +that there might be no chance left of life in the man it represented; +then, having finished her work, she left it where the sun would dry it, +and crept back to the room and curled up on a rug, and slept the sleep +of the content. + +The good holy water she had paid money for had failed. But there are +always two ways. If the saints refuse to help, there is always the devil +left. If the padres did not get more effective holy water, whose fault +was it that poor souls had to seek help elsewhere? She would do penance, +of course, after the man died, and perhaps pay for a mass, and that +would make it all right for everybody, and was so easy! She went to +sleep wondering if he would die from a slow lingering disease, or how it +would be. It was inconvenient that one was not allowed to select the +very way the end must come. But the devil would know what she would like +best,--that the foot of his horse might go down in a gopher-hole and +pitch him on his head just so that the neck would break, quick, like the +snapping of a finger. And no one would ever guess how it had been +brought about! + +[Music: _El Sueno_] + + En el sueno dichoso prove---- + Delicias, rodear mi existencia. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + + +Tea made of Castillian rose petals, and all the other little helps of +the herb family, were brewed and steamed in the kitchen of the ranch for +the saving of Raquel from the grasp of a strength-sapping fever. + +Conscience-stricken, Ana fought and argued against sending for Rafael. +Every hour of the day and night she was willing to watch and work, if +only Raquel's illness might pass without the cause of it being known; +and she was certain that the cause was the shock of learning how +narrowly she had escaped kidnapping at the hands of Rafael's enemy. + +Sometimes, indeed, Raquel did murmur in her sleep of "Padre Libertad" +and the water surging over her head; and then again it was "the +altar--the altar--and the blood on the tiles of the temple"; then "the +ring--the ring--the ring." Sometimes she would moan that the beautiful +one with the happiness must not receive the ring--never the ring of +Aztec witchery! Then her words would trail along in inarticulate +whispers, and sink into brief periods of slumber. + +Old Polonia, listening and watching, heard all. Of Padre Libertad and +the dream of the water she cared not anything. Of the ring she +understood, and was afraid lest a name be uttered. But when the girl +moaned of the blood on the altar and on the floor of the temple, the old +creature dropped in a cowering heap and screamed with fear, and begged +with tears that the husband would come, and that a padre must come, for +it was all of no use to do any more of anything; and that the mother of +Dona Raquel had come from--from death, to tell of hidden things to her +daughter, and it meant that death was in the home with them, and that +Dona Raquel would never again sing with the birds, or gallop across the +mesas! + +Ana, trembling with fright and this assurance, almost smothered old +Polonia, that the others might not hear the wild prophecy, but without +further delay she sent a letter to Rafael, and the man who bore it was +to spare neither horses nor himself on the errand. + +The man rode well, and made only one halt to change a horse at a ranch. +The sheriff of Los Angeles County, and many owners of ranches, were +there. The sheriff looked at the rider and his reeking horse carefully. + +"From where do you come?" he asked, and the man jerked his thumb toward +the south. + +"San Joaquin." + +"What's up there?" + +"Not anything, senor." + +It never entered his head that a woman sick at the San Joaquin ranch +would have interest for a party of horsemen who looked as if out for a +hunt. But the party exchanged glances. One of them, a farmer who knew +him, stepped forward. + +"Where do you ride in such haste, if nothing is up?" he asked. + +"I take a letter to Don Rafael; his wife is sick." + +"Where?" + +"At San Joaquin ranch, senor. Adios!" + +He had his foot in the stirrup, when the sheriff laid his hand on his +arm. + +"Wait a bit," he said, quietly. "I think it is said that a picnic is +given to-day by Senora Downing for Dona Raquel Arteaga who is visiting +in Los Angeles. How can she be at the same time at the San Joaquin +ranch?" + +"I know not anything of the picnic, senor, but I know a woman rode her +horse into the ranch at dark last night, and they say it is Dona Raquel +Arteaga; and she has a fever, and screams and laughs all night in the +room of Dona Ana. I know, for I am called after I am asleep, to get wood +for a fire. No one sleeps, and outside the window I hear all what she +screams, and it is enough to freeze the blood,--all of altars where +blood is, and a ring that she cries for; and I am glad to get away and +ride for Rafael Arteaga." + +"Rather thin, isn't it, all of that story?" remarked one of the +ranchmen. "Bryton, when we asked you to join us didn't you stop to send +word to the Downings that you couldn't attend their little celebration +in the hills?" + +"Yes." + +Bryton had turned from the others and was rolling a cigarro. He replied +without looking up from his task. + +"And it was given in honor of Dona Raquel Arteaga and the bishop?" + +"I understood so." + +"Understood? Why, that was the reason Arteaga gave for refusing to come +along," broke in one of the other men. "I heard him." + +"That's so; I did too, and I thought at the time a picnic for a woman +and a priest was a mighty small excuse to give for evading--" + +"Careful!" And the sheriff shot a warning glance at the speaker. "A +newly married man was excused, even in Bible times, from going to the +wars, so Arteaga's reason is all right." + +"Just a moment," said Bryton. "I am as certain as it is possible to be +of anything one does not see, that the boy tells the truth. She is +there, and she is ill. Let him take the message." + +"What makes you think so?" and the sheriff eyed him carefully. Bryton's +jaw set stolidly, though his face flushed. + +"I know it; that's all," he said, briefly, as he turned away. + +"But--" + +"The boy is speaking the truth; I know it!" + +The sheriff looked after him a moment, and then spoke to one of the +others. + +"Just keep the boy here a bit until I can see clearer," he said, "if +Bryton knows." + +He tramped after Bryton, who was going for his own horse tied in the +shadow of a pepper tree. + +"Bryton, tell me _how_ you know!" + +"I can't do it. Take my word or ignore it, as you like." + +"But, hell, man! it is not your word; it is only your impression! Give +me your word as to how you know it, and I'll take it quick. I suppose +it's some inside family history you've dropped on; but the lady is at +Los Angeles, and it is some other woman they are nursing at the ranch +and deceiving the servants about. That is my theory. There are some +women mixed up with that Flores outfit, and I happen to know that El +Capitan, who is the brain of the gang, is related to the folks at that +ranch. Now, is it reasonable to think that Arteaga's wife would ride at +dark, alone, over this country where hold-ups are so common? Would he +let her? Would not the Downings have known?" + +"They probably did know, and Rafael Arteaga certainly did," returned +Bryton, impatiently. "Their picnic was more a matter of policy than a +pleasure party. They wanted the bishop there, to put an end to that +church fight. They wanted Dona Raquel Arteaga to serve as an attraction +and help them. She has absolutely refused all along to assist with any +compromise; and to avoid it this time she has evidently ridden quietly +out of Los Angeles, and her husband, who wanted the picnic very much, +has kept her absence a secret." + +"But if she is as sick as this boy says, how could she take a +thirty-mile ride on horseback?" + +Bryton made a gesture of impatience. + +"She is there!" he insisted. "I--I feel that she is there. The sooner +you let the boy ride for Arteaga and the doctor, the less likely she is +to die." + +"Doctor! Did he say anything about a doctor?" + +"No." + +"You see, if the woman was very ill, the fellow would say it was a +doctor he was riding for." + +"No; it would be a priest. These women do their own doctoring. If herb +teas and prayers can't save a life, it is let die. Good God! She may be +dying now while we talk. Let the boy go!" + +"Well, I'll be damned!" + +The sheriff was staring at Bryton, whose face was white and set. He was +untying his horse, with quick decided movements, and cinching up the +girth. + +"If you don't send the boy on that errand, I'll go myself," he said, +curtly. + +"Well--I'll be--" The sheriff broke his sentence midway, to stare at +Bryton in amazement. "What the devil is it to you?" he demanded. +"Arteaga is no bosom friend of yours, is he?" + +"Not that I know of. If the boy doesn't go, I go! The girl may be dying, +and the help she wants, she's going to get. Speak up!" + +He was in the saddle, and the sheriff, with one look at him, walked back +to the group. + +"Boy, do you carry only a message to Don Rafael Arteaga?" he demanded, +"or is it a written letter?" + +"A letter," said he, sullenly, "and Dona Ana raise the hell if you don't +let me take it." + +"Ah! The Dona Ana! I thought so. Dona Ana is an interesting little lady. +Let me see the letter." + +The man hesitated, but finally pulled the letter from his pocket. The +sheriff took it and walked back to Bryton. + +"I'm humoring your queer notion all I know how," he observed; "for I +want you south with us instead of taking the back trail. You read +Spanish; the letter is not sealed. Read it." + +Bryton read it aloud, slowly. Ana had not minced her words. + +"RAFAEL ARTEAGA:-- + +"For the love of God, come quick to Raquel. Among us, some way, I think +we have killed her. That she is too good for you is no reason that you +should let her ride alone with a heart-break. I think myself she does +not want to live any more,--and no medicine cures that. Maybe you cannot +cure it either, but it is your place to be here if she dies. + + "Your cousin, + + "Ana Carmencita Mendez." + +"You see," said Bryton, handing it back. "I told you." + +"I see," conceded the sheriff. "It reads all right, but there is always +a chance of--" He folded the paper thoughtfully, and stared hard at the +ground. "This is all a ticklish business, Bryton, and if Flores's +friends have got wind of this little _pasear_ of ours, they may send all +sorts of scare messages where they will do most good. These greasers +have tricks of their own, and most of them are cousins--see?" + +"I see; but that is not a message of that sort. Does the boy take it, or +do I?" + +"The boy takes it, and I'll send a man with him to be sure he takes that +message and no other; and you, if you are so keen for the road, can ride +south and investigate before Cousin Ana can expect any reply to her +message." + +"I--ride alone to San Joaquin ranch?" + +"That's it! You've got the best horse in the bunch. If the whole outfit +rides in, they'll get scared, but one man alone on his way to San Juan, +that looks all right. You may chance on things worth while, when we +finally catch up." + +"But there are other men--men who know the family better." + +"Not one would be so apt to note the points we need. The family is +square, but of Cousin Ana there have been some curious things said. She +is the one of the lot who openly claims El Capitan as cousin. That's all +we really know, but keep your eyes open." + +"Let me see the letter again." + +The sheriff handed it to him and looked at him curiously as he half +turned away to read it, and his eyes sought out the one statement: "I +think myself she does not want to live any more, and no medicine cures +that. Maybe you cannot cure it either, but it is your place to be here +if she dies." + +He pulled his hat low over his eyes and gathered up the reins. + +"All right," he said, briefly. "I will go. Adios!" + +A little later, and only a cloud of dust marked the way in the south +that he had gone; and the mist in his eyes, hidden so well from the +sheriff, was dashed away by his hand, but came back again and again. + +"It is your place to be here if she dies," he repeated, grimly,--"my +Dona Espiritu--my beloved! The message was written to him, but fate sent +it first to me, and I--I will be with you to-night. You will not be +again alone with the heart-break." + +[Music: _Indian Torture Chant._] + + + + +CHAPTER XII + + +Toward evening Raquel grew more quiet, and Ana, seeing that the fever +was abating, gave herself much blame for sending in such haste for +Rafael; and what she had written to him only the good saints could tell, +for she had been so frightened she had possibly told him unpleasant +things! + +However, all things could be endured if only Raquel would open her eyes +in reason once more, and lift the load of self-blame from the heart of +Ana. + +Not only the young girls, but the mistress as well, kept a respectful +distance from the room where Raquel lay, adjoining the hall. Her moans +and strange words had filled them with dread, but no more so than had +the grovelling fear of the old Indian woman. All day she had crouched at +the door like a patient animal, waiting the end. Sometimes she muttered +to herself in queer Indian words, sometimes she crept to the couch of +Dona Raquel for a little while, and then back again to the door, always +mumbling or praying, and always insisting that the mother of Raquel had +come from the grave to tell things, and that the last of the kings was +gone now for always! + +Any attempt at a question, any interpretation of her mutterings, would +arouse her to a realization that she was among new people in a strange +land, and her lips would shut in a straight line, to be kept shut so +long as she was conscious of their presence. + +The Indian servants crept past the door, with fearful eyes fixed in +dread. She was of another race and another tongue than their own +forebears, straight and slender even in her old age; darkest +reddish-bronze in color, while a San Juan grandmother was always fat, +and nearly always black. Beside them, Polonia looked almost Caucasian. +Yet she proudly denied any white blood; she was an Indian of a hill +tribe of the south, the name of which she would not utter. + +All this, and her mutterings, and the wild words of her mistress, put +terror into the heart of the San Joaquin household. The girls huddled +together and whispered tales of witches and ghosts, and thought she +looked like each in turn; and Dona Ana got great credit for courage in +staying in the room with her in the night-time. + +But all their vague fears were changed to a definite terror when one of +the Indian children found the clay image by the aquia, and in its yet +moist members all the pins, for the stealing of which half the children +around the ranch had that morning received a taste of the rope's end. + +Such a gray-faced, wailing lot as scampered up from the aquia! Girls +screaming, old women wailing, and the mothers herding the children out +of reach of the accursed thing! + +All was explained now, about the sudden awful sickness of the Dona +Raquel! The Indian woman from the south was a very devil! Dona Raquel +had perhaps had to whip her some time, and she had waited until she was +with her in a strange house to do this thing: that was why she crouched +at the door as if on guard; she was afraid some one might enter to pray, +or with holy water, or any of the helps of the saints. And after the +life had gone from Dona Raquel, who could tell that she might not kill +others, even all of them on the ranch? Since she had in one hour's time +changed her mistress from a well woman to a crazy woman who laughed, how +long would it take to do the same for a dozen? Not a day! In a week she +could kill them all! + +Panic seized the entire herd. They raced in terror for the ranch-house +and overwhelmed the mistress with their fears. Her daughters clung +together, white-faced at the frenzy facing them. The men were out on the +ranch and ranges; Don Enrico was with them, and there was no one to +control the dark mob of fanatic faces, any more than one could head a +stampeding herd of cattle: that was what terror developed in them--the +mad, unreasoning rush of animals to trample underfoot, or tear to +pieces, the thing they feared. + +The mistress could only gasp, "Pray to God--pray to God!" but her voice +was lost in the tumult of the wild chorus. It was too late for prayers; +prayers were no good after a devil had got hold of any one! Then there +was only one thing to do, and they had the knife for the meat and the +axe for the wood! A devil could be burned out, or drowned out, and there +was not water enough this side of the sea for the drowning; therefore-- + +In vain their mistress screamed, and her daughters clung to the bare +brown arms of their serving-women. They were thrown aside in the +stampede of the savage herd. Let the lady say what should be done with +white blood; but this was an Indian, and an Indian of a strange tribe +and country! + +Even in their panic the bovine cowardly herd remembered that fact; there +would be no Indian relatives of the witch to wreak vengeance on them; +she was the devil's own, and she had no other kindred! + +They tore across the hall, sacred at other times to the family, and Ana, +rising in wonder at the tumult, was met at the door by the mob. She +retreated to the couch of Raquel, with outstretched arms to protect her +guest, as she commanded that they be gone. + +Her words were scarcely heard. At the door, crouching, and with covered +head, they found her they wanted, and dragged her unresisting through +the hall and out into the open. + +The mistress, sick and half fainting, stumbled to her own room, and +cowered at the altar, with one daughter clinging to her and sobbing, +while the other stood at the portal of the patio and called for some of +the boys, or a man, or horse for any one who could ride for help and +stop the horror. + +"Mother of God! They make the fire!" she screamed. + +It was true. They were dragging the wood and making ready for a fire. +Children followed their mothers, gathering leaves and straw. One +black-skinned creature had brought a shovel of coals, and was lying +prone on the ground beside it, blowing it with her breath until it +glowed and sent demoniac lights into her heavy-lidded eyes. One old hag +held the devil's witness, the clay image, before the accused, and after +one brief look Polonia made no struggle. It was fate; she had known from +the feverish words of Dona Raquel that some one must die as sacrifice. + +Then she began to croon a strange whining chant, and the hands of those +holding her fell away in sudden terror of even the touch of her. Slowly +she stumbled to her feet, and looked at the sun, and raising her old +hands toward its lowering light, waved them to and fro in weird +salutation, never checking the strange song or chant. + +Ana had a pistol, and stood in wavering uncertainty as to whether she +should run out, or stay on guard beside Raquel; but to the final +adjuration she responded as one suddenly aroused from a stupor of fear, +and rushing to the little plaza she screamed loudly and then fired two +shots in quick succession; then after a deliberate little pause she +fired once more, and with pale cheeks turned toward the door, trembling, +and waiting. + +"God be praised! See, help is coming," gasped Juanita, pointing +northward. "Good! The dust--the man on the horse--and how he rides--how +he rides!" + +Ana watched the rider, fascinated and weak with terror. Juanita was +laughing and crying with joy, but her cousin stood pale and motionless, +and said not a word as the horseman swept past the garden to the back of +the house, where smoke was rolling up in a white cloud. + +He was none too soon. The fire was leaping in long tongues from the +crackling sycamore boughs. The dark faces of the fanatics were alight +with frenzied eagerness for their pious task of destroying a witch +before they might be interfered with. They had heard the screams and +shots, and knew what they meant, and the log they were tying the witch +to was held upright by many willing hands. + +Her hands were already tied together; there was nothing left to do but +fasten a rope around her at the waist, and toss both log and witch into +the hottest corner. + +And then Juanita ran screaming toward the group, and back of her rode a +man on a fiend of a horse, knocking the pious devotees right and left, +and caught up the limp figure of old Polonia and flung it on the saddle +in front of him. + +She opened her eyes and looked at him once as he raised her from the +ground, and then closed them and looked no more. It was all of no +use--neither the holy water to keep away the thought of him, nor the +witchcraft to take the life from him. It was the accursed Americano, and +the charm had only served to bring him more quickly! + +After the first staggering blow from the stranger's horse, some of the +stronger spirits rallied, and lunged forward to drag the woman from her +rescuer, while others lashed his horse that it might become +uncontrollable. Two able-bodied wenches held on like grim death, despite +the quirt which he brought down across their shoulders again and again, +while he held the horse and Polonia with one arm. + +The animal, between the lashing of the mob and the roaring of the +flames, was leaping madly, and the rider had all he could do to control +its terror. Any moment a shot, or a club, or a stone thrown at his own +head might give them two victims instead of one. That was Juanita's one +wild fear. She screamed for Ana with the pistol, but Ana had sunk down, +white and trembling on the doorstep, as she saw a black form suddenly +appear in the midst of the howling mob of savages. An instant she saw +him on the outer edge of the leaping, struggling circle, and the next +he was by the head of the horse, and a strong arm struck right and left +until there was space enough to show he was a bronzed, bearded man in a +priest's habit. + +"Back to your kennels, dogs!" he cried, sharply. "Since when have ye +dared strike at gentlemen? On your knees, every one of you! On your +knees!" + +The younger girls and children dropped in the dust, but some of the +older were less willing to give up. + +"She is a witch, father; she is killing a woman," cried one; "it is +right a devil be put in the fire!" + +"Then how hot must the fire be made when your day comes!" he replied, +and raised his hand and spoke slowly, solemnly, "Thrice heated will that +fire be for the thrice-accursed! To your knees, in the name of God!" + +With sullen, shamed, disappointed faces, they obeyed. A white man who is +a stranger they dared attack, if enough of them were together, but not a +priest--a priest who could hit hard enough to knock a bull down. + +"That was a close shave, padre," observed the American, with a breath of +relief. "They had this poor old wretch almost pulled in two--will you +take her?" + +The priest made a step forward, and then halted and smiled, as in vague +perplexity. + +"I have not the pleasure of understanding English," he said, gently. + +Ana arose and came forward; she was still very pale and still trembling; +she looked at the priest and tried to speak, but the words were +smothered in a half sob. + +"My daughter," he said, quietly, "take courage." Then he glanced at the +pistol still in her hand. "It was you who fired? That was right. I was +on the hill in the edge of the wood, and it is well you sent that +warning. Your American friend said--?" + +"Oh, I speak a little Spanish too," remarked Bryton, in that tongue; "it +is the woman with the tied hands I wanted you to take." + +The padre did so, untying the rope deftly, and steadying her wavering +figure, while Bryton slipped from the saddle, and spoke to Juanita, who +had the one welcoming face he had seen. + +"I know you," she said, eagerly. "Did I not see you at San Juan +Capistrano, at Alvara's and at the Mission? I was sure of it. This is my +cousin Dona Ana and Father--" + +"Libertad," the padre interrupted, briefly, and spoke directly to +Bryton, "from Mexico." + +"You will think us all savages to allow this, father," and she pointed +to the huddled Indians and the leaping flames; "but it was all so +quick--like that--no one could think! My mother is in hiding from it, +and--" + +"Father," said Ana, speaking for the first time, "a priest is needed in +the house. We have a woman who may be dying. Will you come quickly?" + +She was eager to separate the priest from the others, and, her speech +was nervous and eager. + +"Dying?" he repeated, "is that what they meant when they said the Indian +had killed a woman?" + +"Yes, father," broke in the quavering tones of old Altagrazia, "here it +is--the devil she made!" and she held up the clay image, from which the +head had been broken in the _melee_. "One day ago the lady is well and +rides like a caballero, and this day the sun goes down and she dies. The +Indian from Mexico put on the curse!" + +Old Polonia understood, and screamed denials in her native tongue, and +then turned to the padre and pointed to the American. + +"It is that man!" she cried, shrilly, "he is a devil! He does not +die--not for anything! And while he lives he breaks the heart of my +mistress. It is he; that is the man! Put on him the curse of the Church, +father! Put on him the curse to send him to a desert where he never can +find a road again!" + +The padre smiled grimly. "That is all they use their religion for after +a century of Christianity," he observed. "They still stick to their +devil-worship, and call on the Church only when they want maledictions +or absolution. Woman, you talk like a fool. Did you do this?" + +He took the headless clay pin-cushion and held it before him. Polonia +flashed one vindictive glance at him and then nodded her head sullenly. +It was bad luck to lie to a padre. + +"It was to save her," she muttered, "but the Americano is a devil, and +nothing kills him." + +She turned one glance of hate and fear upon her rescuer, and moved +toward the house. + +"She means you?" asked the padre. + +"Oh, she is crazy, that old Indian," cried Juanita; "always she makes me +afraid. The Senor Bryton she never perhaps has seen until this minute. +That is her thanks that he pull her from the fire!" + +The padre turned for one level look at the pale face of Ana. + +"Your name is Bryton?" he then said, quietly. "Will you, Senor Bryton, +see that these savages do not attempt another roasting, while I look to +the woman who is dying?" + +Bryton turned to Juanita. + +"Is it so bad as that?" he asked. "The Dona Raquel--" + +"We think she is better this evening; still, it may be a fever coming; +one never knows. Ah! there are my father and the men." + +Don Enrico Cordoba and some vaqueros rode madly through the corral and +into the place of the huge bonfire and the still kneeling Indians. Now +that their white heat of passion was over, they remembered only the +beating they would get, and crouched doggedly where the padre had bidden +them; the younger ones wept with fear when Juanita told her father the +story. + +"Holy God!" he shouted in a rage, breaking in on her recital. "In my +house to trample on my family and drag a woman to the fire! Tomas, count +every head and remember every name. In three days every one shall be +tied to a tree and whipped; if one runs away, she shall be caught and +whipped twice,--once here on the ranch, and once on the Mission plaza of +San Juan, on a Sunday after mass. You cattle, you dogs, you devils, +begone from my sight!" + +He struck right and left with the green-hide reata, spurring his horse +after those who stumbled along too slowly to suit him, striking old and +young alike as they ran wailing with terror at the promises he had made +them, and which they knew would be kept. The Mexican master was quite as +prone as the Indian servants to find acute methods of torture or +punishment. + +When all were despatched he rode back, puffing and laughing, to his +daughters and guest, with whom he shook hands heartily. + +"Holy saints! but we did ride when we saw the smoke; it looked like the +house on fire. It winds a man, a ride like that at my age," and he shook +his fat sides with laughter. "Come inside and have a glass of whiskey, +Senor Bryton. We met at the alcalde's last year when the army officers +were in San Juan? Yes, I thought so. I am glad you have come to my +house, and--who knows--you maybe saved my wife and my daughters as well +as the old woman. When these savages get the taste of blood, they are +crazy wolves, never fighters in the open, brave only when there is a mob +like that. Come in, come in! Juanita, go tell your mother we have a +guest who has saved you all. What was it you said of a padre? where is +he?" + +"With Dona Raquel, father." + +"She is worse?" + +"We do not know, but thanks to the Virgin, she no longer laughs or +cries. Ana is there. If she live or die, we all feel the padre has come +if the husband do not." + +"Humph! Oh, yes, yes, always the priests!" he grunted. "Women can't keep +house without the padres. I think I build a chapel for my women; then +they can pray all the time to be sure they save my soul," and he laughed +skeptically; then he tossed aside his sombrero, and brought bottles and +glasses to a little table of marble on the veranda. "Will you have +whiskey, or the bottle of wine?" + +"I prefer your own wine of the ranch, Don Enrico," and Bryton poured out +the white moselle, of which the Cordoba family was justly proud; "I +think the padre was also off a journey, senor; perhaps a swallow of this +fine wine--" + +"Oh, let the women alone to look after the wants of the padre," laughed +his host. "They own my house when they are in it, though sometimes I +never see them. 'How much money do you want?' I say when they come, and +that ends my business with the padres! I buy and sell with them and get +beaten at _monte_ or _malilla_, but I let women do the praying with +them! Here comes my wife. Refugia, this is the preserver of your house, +the Senor Bryton. Have some whiskey, dear; you are still pale." + +"Pale! Never shall I get over this day. Think of the shame of it! Dona +Raquel Arteaga has been entertained like a queen by the bishop, and when +she honors our home, her servant is dragged out to be burned! The word +will go out that we are savages. Enrico, never so long as you live do +you leave this house again without a man in it!" + +"Surely not. Drink the whiskey, dear, and be composed." + +Dona Refugia drank the fiery liquor, and appeared to enjoy it very much, +but it had not a quieting influence. It rather helped her to remember +and recount all the details of her own stages of fear during the +stampede of the self-appointed executioners. + +"After the night we all had," she lamented, "to have it followed by such +a day! God grant that Dona Raquel slept or was unconscious through it +all. Had she seen those fiends, it might have killed her or brought back +the fever. Juanita says a padre has come, which is the one lucky thing." + +"Senor Bryton came first, which was a more lucky thing," said her +husband; "all the saints could not have saved the woman from the fire if +he had not come when he did. Such a thing has not happened here in this +valley since I was a boy. Have some more of the wine; it will give you +an appetite for supper." + +At the mention of supper his wife remembered that all the help of the +kitchen might have deserted the premises under the scourging of Don +Enrico's reata, and calling the girls to help, she left the gentlemen to +their glasses. + +At the hall she halted to ask after Raquel, and in the shadow saw her +niece and the padre talking softly. Ana's head was bent as though +weeping, and the hand of the padre was smoothing her hair, and his words +were reassuring. + +"There, there! it is not so bad, after all," he was saying. "You did the +best you knew; and now that I am here, there is nothing to do but--" + +"Oh, I know," broke in Ana; "you say all this so I will not blame +myself. You would do the same if the worst, the very worst, happened." + +"It is not going to happen," he said, quietly; then, as he saw Dona +Refugia in the hall, "Your friend is surely not so dangerously ill as +you fear; by to-morrow--" + +Ana looked up quickly at his change of tone, and arose to her feet. + +"Here is my aunt," she said. "Aunt Refugia, this is a padre journeying +south to Mexico. He--he came at the right moment to help Senor Bryton, +and I have asked him to stay--and--" + +"Of course," said Dona Refugia, promptly. "Thanks to God you are here +this night! Show him to the padre's room, Ana, while I see to supper. Is +she sleeping?" she asked, nodding toward the couch. + +They did not know; she lay with closed eyes most of the time, and they +received no replies to queries, but Ana felt that she only slept +fitfully, and then her own muttered words were certain to arouse her to +a sort of half wakefulness in which she was simply conscious of the +presence of some one without caring in the least who it was. The +entrance of the mob had not impressed her mind more clearly than the +visionary pictures of the night before. + +Old Polonia had again crouched outside the door, in the hall, wordless +as before, and, except for some slight disarrangement of her clothing, +showing less sign than might have been expected of the horrid scene she +had been a part of. She had gone in to look at her mistress, had +swallowed some wine offered her by Juanita, and with a short guttural +laugh had settled herself outside the door as a sentinel--or near enough +to hear the slightest call from Raquel. + +The priest regarded her sharply and turned to Ana. + +"You are certain it was not Estevan's daughter she meant to harm?" he +asked, quietly, but not so low but that the sharp ears of the Indian +caught the name. She pulled a corner of the mantilla from across her +eyes and looked at him. + +"Sure," said Ana, "why, she was her nurse, and the nurse of her mother +before her. She would make a carpet of herself for Raquel's feet." + +"The nurse of her mother before her," said the priest, slowly. "Then she +is of that strange hill tribe of the temple mountain, and she herself is +not a common Indian. To have been nurse to that family of the priests, +means that her own family was entitled to notice. Yet she has followed, +in her old age, to a strange land. Yes, it must mean devotion. But why +does she dislike the American?" + +"God knows! She could not have ever seen him before. I thought she +lied." + +"The hate in her eyes was no lie," observed the padre. "His presence +here was lucky, but it is not explained, any more than is my own. To me +it looks--well, as I said, he is in with the officers." + +"And it is my fault he has seen you--my fault," murmured Ana. "If you +would only go at once--" + +"I think not; it is a good chance to watch the gentleman. If I were sure +that old woman meant her hate for him--" + +He stared at Polonia a moment, and then nodded his head. + +"I'll take the chance," he decided, and went alone to her and pulled the +cover entirely from her face. + +"Friend of a daughter of many kings," he said, slowly. + +She stared at him, and stumbled to her feet in salutation. + +"It is true, my father, but the kings of the hills are dead; and now," +pointing toward Raquel, "there will be no more in the land." + +"Who knows?" said the strange padre. "There still lives a daughter; +guard her better than you did her mother when I carried love messages +from Estevan." + +"Ai! I know you now. You have become padre, and you guard her from the +heretics--the heretics, father," and she pointed toward the veranda +where Don Enrico and his guest could be heard in conversation. "That +accursed Americano--" + +"Sh--h! quiet, you!" and he placed a hand on her arm authoritatively; +"make no noise, say no words, but watch him all the time--every time +when I am out of sight. Understand?" + +She glanced from the padre to Ana, who nodded her head, and at once the +dark old face was illuminated; at last she was not alone in this strange +land! Others were here who hated the Americano, and that made them her +kindred. She caught the hand of the padre and pressed it to her +forehead. + +"I watch always," she promised, fervently; and to herself she thought, +"After all, we get him killed some way, if the padre, who was a soldier, +helps." + +They left her in her chosen place, crouched in the hall just outside the +door of Raquel, content at last that she was not alone in her hatred of +the man whom she blamed for the weary hours of wretchedness lived +through by her mistress. + +Ana showed the padre to the room set aside always for the use of such +priests as travelled from San Gabriel to San Juan. They were not so many +of late years, but in this house they were always honored guests, no +matter what their order, or land, or language. + +"I am afraid--afraid!" said Ana, as she opened the door; "if some one +should come who knows--" + +"No one will," he said, reassuringly, "and this may be a good chance to +learn much. Go, help your aunt, and forget to fear." + +Ana sighed, but went as he bade, to the kitchen, where Dona Refugia was +doing her best to make amends for the distraction of the cooks. They +were like big, fat, frightened children, not one of them of any use that +night. + +Still, there chanced to be enchilladas made the day before, and the +tortillas took but a little while to bake, and the bonfire in the yard +had settled to a bed of gleaming coals where the beef could be barbecued +with no delay but the sending of some girls to the creek for spears of +peeled willow. Ana glanced out and saw them squatted peacefully around +the red heap, turning the poles on which the strips of beef were hung, +as phlegmatic as though they had not howled for a human roasting there +not an hour ago. + +Juanita had made the table look very nice, in honor of the strange +American guest who had followed her call and saved the family from the +disgrace of such a killing. + +He filled her girlish ideal of the heroic, and she was not like some +women who thought that California girls should marry only their own +race: a big American husband seemed the finest thing in the world to +Juanita. + +So there were red geraniums on the table, and yellow poppies, and the +best new plates brought from a steamer at San Pedro but a month before; +they were a bright blue, and Juanita thought the color combination very +fine indeed. She ran to put on a new dress, that the stranger might not +think they all looked as if the house had been wrecked. Ana, for a +wonder, was indifferent to her own personal appearance, and kept on an +old black dress with not even a collar of lace to break its severity. + +Don Enrico showed Bryton to a room where he could wash and brush a bit, +but so interested was he in his chance guest, that he remained at the +door chatting affably, and recounting the word he had received that day +that Flores and his men had made a big fight with some cattle people +over in Sonora, and had either got a boat at San Onofre and gone out to +sea, or else they were somewhere in the San Juan mountains, and of +course had spies on the outlook for the marshal or the army men. Don +Enrico himself thought it time for the army men to interfere--there were +many army men in Los Angeles, and this was no longer a county affair. + +"But the devil of a trouble in this country is that too many Mexican +men, and women too, will help to hide Flores's men because of Capitan, +who has never yet taken a peso from a Mexican, except the Arteagas, and +who never fails to strip an American if he starts on his trail. They +like that, these Mexicans, whose men fought the Americanos; they are not +strong enough to fight in the open, but they like to help this vagabond +Capitan, who should have been priest instead of bandit, and who keeps up +their fight for them under cover." + +He had entered the dining-room while talking, and so interested was he +in his pet complaint against the troublesome outlaws, that he did not +notice the tall black figure by the side of his wife. + +"Uncle, this is Padre Libertad," said Ana, almost timidly. Don Enrico +did not like priests in general; he made the mistake of classing them +all with the Catalonian padre of San Juan, whom he disliked so much that +he would not eat at the same table. His women folks never knew how he +would receive a man of the Church until he was proven to his taste. + +However, the good American whiskey had put him in a cordial mood, and he +nodded amiably as he took his seat. + +"A good day to you, padre," he said. "You tramped a long way in the dust +to find trouble, did you? Well, the women are thanking the saints you +came at the right time, you and Senor Bryton. So it is all very well, +and God send that the fight gave you an appetite." + +And evidently something did, for the priest ate like a vaquero off the +ranges. Don Enrico felt a growing respect for the man who could eat more +barbecued meat than himself, and drink as much red wine. In fact, all +did ample justice to the beef of the bonfire built for old Polonia,--all +except Ana,--who still looked pale and uneasy, and Bryton, who made a +pretence of eating, but who refused a second glass of wine, a thing the +padre noticed with a smile, and their host commented on vigorously. + +"You can't drink--you Americans," he insisted; "and look at your +plate,--not half empty! It takes students and brain-workers like the +padre and me to spoil a side of beef! You are Spanish and of Mexico, +padre?" + +"No, not even my grandfather came from Spain; so I cannot claim to be +Spanish," said the padre. "I claim only to be Mexican." + +"And good enough too! Across the line, do these bandits of ours make +much trouble these days?" + +"No one has complained to me of them. You say they take most from the +Americano, but in our country there are no Americano ranches yet; we do +not expect to find them there for many years." + +"Well, Capitan does go down there sometimes," insisted Don Enrico; "I've +heard of it. His family meant him for the Church, but the young devil +ran away and joined the army with his elder brother. The Americans shot +Roberto; this one was only a boy then, light-weight to ride, and he +carried despatches, and never went back to the Church. Oh, he is +Californian, all right,--is cousin to half the country. He is--what +relation should he be to us, Refugia?" + +"He is second cousin to me," said Ana. + +"So if you hear of him being in trouble for his soul, say a prayer for +him, padre, on account of his loyal cousin," said Juanita, and laughed +teasingly; but Ana lifted troubled, dark eyes to the padre's face. + +"Do so, father," she said, simply; "for the sake of his soul, remember +me!" + +"These women!" laughed her uncle; "they are always troubling us about +our souls, padre. Don't let them spoil your supper with a list of +prayers!" + +"And what would become of some of your souls if we women did not say the +prayers?" retorted his wife. "God knows, Capitan needs them." + +"We all need them," said the priest, quietly. + +"Still, I always have understood that he is the whitest of the bunch," +observed Bryton. + +"There are, then, different shades of blackness?" asked the padre. "I +believe the law holds all equally guilty." + +"El Capitan's motives, at least, have been different, and it has come to +be understood that when extremely brutal things have occurred on their +raids, Capitan is never of the party." + +"Is it so? I did not know you Americanos gave Mexicans credit for such +negative virtues?" + +Bryton looked up quickly. There was a mocking light in the eyes of the +padre, and he was smiling across the table. The smile puzzled Bryton as +much as the quick alarm in the eyes of Ana. Was she afraid of +controversy over the still warm question of Mexican and United States +rights? + +"I think that, individually, we give each other credit," he replied, +"especially to the fighters. It is only the political schemers who make +the troubles between the two factions. As for Capitan, he has too much +daring not to force admiration even from the people he dislikes." + +Ana flashed a grateful glance at him, and a slight flush crept to the +forehead of the padre; he gulped down the contents of his glass, and +pushed back his chair. + +"Do you fear any trouble with those Indians to-night?" he asked, +abruptly. "Had I better speak with them?" + +"It is better, perhaps, that we say a rosary, and bring them together +that way," observed Dona Refugia; "it is the best way. I will have Pedro +ring the bell--" + +Ana slipped out of the dining-room beside the padre. + +"You will?" she asked. + +"Surely; a rosary is easy. Why do you look so frightened? Your Americano +will not eat me." + +"But you don't like him?" + +"What does that matter? At least, he says no harm of a man behind his +back, and it is true what he says of the politicians. Oh, if he keeps up +the compliments, who knows but that we may be good friends yet--after he +has paid for the horses he took north? Chut!--that is only jest! Smile a +little and help to corral the Indians." + +Bryton, with Juanita beside him, had sauntered again to the veranda. +Passing the door of the hall, he noticed Polonia still crouched there, +and Juanita shuddered and drew away. + +"I am always frightened at her," she confessed; "not alone would I go in +a room where she is at dark for all the gold they say there is in +Trabuco Mountain. It is not so strange to me that the poor creatures +were afraid and thought her a witch. If you had heard the Dona Raquel +all last night, you also would have thought only witchcraft could make +her so suddenly fall sick with a heart-ache for a ring that would save +her, and a temple where a sacrifice was. Truly, it was pitiful--her +cries. I pulled the pillow over my ears. Only Ana was brave enough to +stay close to her,--Ana and the old mummy." + +"And Dona Ana--she thought what of it all--the madness--the--" + +"Oh, Ana has no love for Rafael; she blames him in some way; and it may +be that he does make trouble for his wife--he would not be an Arteaga +else. But she never mentioned his name in all her cries, never once. She +called always--always for the ring, and laughed that some one who wore +the ring was again alive. Oh, it was all of queer crazy things like +that--ghostly things--she made laments for. It was like purgatory to +hear her, yet Ana was not afraid. She has courage, that girl!" + +"She is asleep now?" he asked, suddenly. + +"Who--Ana? why--" + +"No, no, I mean Dona--I mean the sick lady. She is better--or--how?" + +"She notices nothing, and says nothing, but she does not scream for some +one who was dead and is now alive, as she did last night, when she +laughed and wept; so I think that means the herb teas have checked the +fever. Do not you?" + +Just then the bell rang in the patio for the rosary, and Juanita, with a +word of apology, slipped away, saying diffidently, "Though you are +welcome to come and pray with us,"--divided between her wish to have +him, and her reluctance to make it obligatory on a heretical guest to +attend their services. + +"I shall pray with you," he said, simply, "but I shall remain here. My +presence might not have a soothing effect on your servants. I shall +smoke a cigar here on the terrace until you return." + +Juanita blushed. She would rather have lingered there herself than +joined the others. The dusk was coming on; a few last bars of red lay +along the sky line to the west where the sea was, and at that hour there +was no corner so delightfully appealing as the great veranda where the +gold-of-Ophir roses made a lattice of green and yellow against the warm +sky. + +Ana entered and lit a candle in the hall and another in the room of +Raquel, and went out again with a quiet nod to the American guest pacing +the veranda aimlessly, and smoking one of Don Enrico's prime cigarros. + +When she had disappeared, he sauntered as aimlessly through the hall to +the patio where the dark people were gathered with bent heads, murmuring +responses sullenly, scarcely daring to lift their eyes to the group on +the veranda. + +A few candles had been lit along the wall where the shadows were +deepening, and in their soft light Bryton could see Don Enrico and all +the men of the ranch--vaqueros and ploughmen alike--kneeling back of the +women, and the red light yet showing through the gray of the ashes where +the flames had leaped so lately. + +[Music: _El Campo._] + + Ya me voy de esta campo querida, + Donde tiernas caricias goce + Y me voy con el alma partida, + Campo ingrata por ti llovare! + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + + +Only an instant he gave to it all, but in that instant he made certain +that every man and woman on the place was at prayers, except the old +Indian woman, who squatted with covered head in the hall, and himself. +His movements were no longer aimless. He retreated swiftly to the +veranda, and tossed the cigarro into the garden. One glance he gave the +wooden-like figure of the old Indian. Only as a last resort would he +attempt to pass that way, but if the windows were not barred-- + +They were not. Ana had gone against her aunt's Mexican rule, which was +that all fresh air should be excluded from a sick-room; and while that +lady and all her servants exclaimed against the admission of air, they +let the blame lie on the shoulders of Ana, and no one closed the window. +It swung wide to the wind of the west, and on the couch within, Bryton +could see Raquel's face. + +The lids were closed over the violet eyes, and the lips were apart, +showing the white teeth. It was still so light that he could see the +little flush on the cheeks against the white pillow, and on her right +hand one little old ring of plain gold. On the left hand shone the red +gold of her new wedding-ring. + +She looked so pathetically young and so utterly alone, as she lay there, +that all the man in him arose in protest, and a mist of tears blinded +him for a moment to the beauty of her face. + +"Poor little one," he whispered, "my poor little broken Dona +Espiritu--my one lady of the spirit!" + +The sound of the words did not wake her, but the sense of them reached +her some way; for she opened her eyes suddenly, and without any shadow +of wonder they rested on his face. + +"I waited a long time," she said at last, "then I heard your voice, and +I knew you were coming to me." + +He set his lips tightly, and nodded, but did not speak. + +"I waited a long time," she repeated, as a child appealing for +understanding. "Did they tell you I thought you were dead?" + +[Illustration: "THEN I HEARD YOUR VOICE"] + +He nodded assent. No one had told him so, but the words explained much. + +"You said you would come back if you lived, and you never came, and they +told me--the padre told me--that you were dead!" + +"So I am," he said, gently; "and they told me, my lady of the spirit, +that you had taken the final vow of the convent--that the night, our one +night, was a thing you were forgetting under a black veil. Child, child! +they lied to us, and now--" + +"Forgetting?" she said, slowly. "How does one forget a night like that, +when we walked out of the wilderness into the day together? You never +came back; and I--I wanted to be in the world where you had been, so +I--" + +"I know," he whispered, gently; "I know, my dona of the spirit." + +He had not meant to touch her,--only to look at her and speak to her +once, and then ride wherever fate might take him. + +But she reached her hands to him, and with a smothered groan he knelt by +her couch and his arms were around her. + +"Don't weep like that!" she whispered, and laid her hand on his head. +"I have wept enough for two, since our carriages passed and I found you +had not died. And you--you knew all the time." + +"I knew when I saw you kneel in your wedding-veil and take that +oath--not until then. I heard his mother say that he was the man you +loved; and, soul of mine! you had not said as much as that in words to +me. So I--" + +"You heard that? Then you know the life I have to live." He nodded, +without lifting his head from the pillow of her arm. There are some +things hard to face with open eyes, but she felt the shudder that passed +over him. Through the opened window came the rise and fall of many +murmuring voices repeating the rosary. In the gold-of-Ophir rose-tree +two birds fluttered and called to each other in the very whisper of bird +notes. The soft lavender-grays of a Californian nightfall were sifting +through the warm light of the afterglow, and away there in the west +stretched bars of blood red, the last trace of the dying day. All the +sequestration of the hour was about them, all the hush of the pause, +before the final plunge of their day into the shadows, and the two souls +were enveloped by the atmosphere of that ever-recurring tragedy of the +hours, and of lives. + +How long he knelt there he did not know. She felt his lips on her +wrist, and felt rather than heard the broken words he was +whispering--the wild, mad words he had meant not to say, as he had meant +not to touch her; then her eyes grew bright as the stars picking their +way through the vault of blue, and the golden-haired woman of the +carriage belonged to a feverish phantasy of the past hours. She might +exist, that golden-haired creature of beauty, but the real life of the +man who knelt there in the dusk belonged only to her, to her always, +through the bond of one starlit Mexican night of witchery, and this last +hour of the California day. + +Nothing made any difference now; though she lived in a hell of purgatory +all her waking life, the bonds of their dream life would be closer than +all else--always, always! + +She felt suddenly well and strong. Ah, there was so much in the world to +live for! Though they never met, never spoke again, this hour of the +tryst would be his through all her life--her hour of a rosary of the +heart. + +A girl's voice in the patio came softly through the dark in an old +Spanish hymn. It was Juanita, and the service of prayer was ending in +the usual duo; one of the vaqueros with a fine barytone voice was +singing the echoing stanzas of praise. + +It was the signal for dispersing, but the man at the couch did not know +that. Neither did he know that the crouched form of the Indian was no +longer in the hall. She was waiting in the dusk at the door, and she was +clutching with a claw-like hand at the robe of the padre, and muttering, +"He is there--it is true. He is there--and she is again bewitched. Now +you will help me to kill the American?" + +The padre looked at her sharply, and then motioned to Ana, who was close +behind. + +"Remain with the others. Make some excuse to keep them there--another +hymn--anything. And be quick--quick!" + +Startled though she was, Ana obeyed, and from the door of the hall he +heard again the voice of Juanita; this time it was in a favorite known +to all, and the volume of sound told him that Don Enrico himself was +joining in the refrain, and that no one would leave the patio until the +finale was reached. + +No candle burned now in the hall. Polonia had blown it out, that no ray +might enter the half-open door of the inner room. She would have gone +with the padre, but the sudden vigorous grasp of his hand on her +shoulder stopped her where she stood, and without a word being spoken, +she knew better than to follow. + +Quickly as a cat of the hills, the padre crossed the hall and stood +where he could see the open window and the kneeling man, and the hand of +Raquel on his bent head. + +"Every night when the dusk comes it will be our time of the day," she +was saying. "They told me you were dead, else--but you know. I think the +mad hours have gone by for me; I can go on living if--if you do not +forget." + +The listening priest could not hear what the man said, but she heard, +and smiled, and sighed. + +"There is one thing," she said, hesitatingly: "the ring, you have worn +it a year--and--" + +"I know," and he lifted his head. "We need no visible emblem, you and I. +I put it back on your finger, my lady of the spirit,--Dona Espiritu;--a +pledge of renunciation, and a reminder of the rosary of the dusk." + +She took from her right hand the little gold band and gave it to him, +and in its place he slipped the onyx ring of the Aztec eagle and +serpent. + +"I did not tell you what that ring means to my people," she said, as he +kissed it in its new resting-place. "Maybe I never can tell you. I--I +thought I could be stronger if I wore it on my own hand, for--for the +reason that my heart went out of my bosom to follow it, and--and I rode +my horse as fast and as far as I could from you, because I--was +afraid." + +"Good God!" whispered the man. "You don't know what you are saying. +Remember that I dare not touch your lips, and that I love you--love +you--love you!" + +Then the nestling birds in the gold-of-Ophir rose were startled from +their repose by the man who strode through the open window and walked +blindly out into the garden. + +The padre watched the girl's face on the pillow for a moment, and heard +her sobs, and retreated softly to the hall, where he met the others; and +at Dona Ana, when they were alone a moment, he smiled with a certain +elation. + +"Look distressed no longer, little one," he said, reassuringly. "You +have helped me to a good day's work, very good. Listen! I like your new +American friend very much, and when you go to San Juan I count on you to +help to make him welcome there. He is going to do me a good turn with +Rafael Arteaga, and I forgive him all the horses he helped to save for +the army men. He does not know it, but he is going to be my good friend, +that fine Americano. He is so fine and so strong, Ana, that he thinks he +can put a woman he loves in a niche of the memory, as we put statues of +the saints in the niches of the altar-places." + +"What do you say?" she queried, perplexed by his smile and words. + +"And that though the woman loves him so much that she kisses her own +hands where his lips have been, and though he loves her so much that he +is half mad at denial, yet he will leave her always there in the little +niche of the altar,--just above his head, but in reach of his hands; and +the hands will never try to lift her down, Anita. He will only look at +her as he rides past, and leave her there to remember." + +"I think you have gone mad," said Ana, sharply. "What did the Indian +witch tell you in the hall?" + +"Ask her!" he suggested. But when Ana did so, she met only scowls and +gutturals. And even the sound sleep of Raquel, and the absolute freedom +from delirium, brought nothing but suspicion to the heart of old +Polonia. It was witchcraft, like all the rest, and the padre should have +put the malediction on the Americano when he had so good a chance. Above +all, he should not have let him ride away in safety. + +[Music: _Indian Reveille._] + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + + +The padre himself rode away very early. Don Enrico lent him a horse to +ride to San Juan, and wondered a little that the San Gabriel people had +not done as much; but times were changing in the land. One could not +expect the old customs to live when so many strangers were crowding into +the country. + +The offered horse was accepted gratefully, and the padre breakfasted +with the vaqueros, and left for the south before the family were astir. +Bryton watched him go, but lingered for a sight of Ana, that he might +hear how the night had passed inside the window of the golden rose. + +And Ana was the last to join the party at breakfast, but was a very +happy creature, compared with the nervous, pale woman of the night +before. All were astonished at the fact that Raquel announced that she +had slept like a child and all the illness and fever were forgotten. She +was not sure but that she could ride to San Juan, and above all things +she was grateful to Ana, and wished both the girls to go with her and +visit in the old Mission. + +The servants were again the quiet listless folk they had been before the +finding of the witch charm. But as Bryton rode out of the patio after +many farewells and blessings from Dona Refugia, and cordial invitations +from Don Enrico to ride back that way, and consider the place as his own +home, there were sullen scowls among the dark people. + +On the veranda Juanita stood alone and waved an adios to him. Back of +her was the open window of the golden rose, and a slender girlish figure +swayed toward him for an instant and then stood erect, and their eyes +met and lingered, while he swept his sombrero to the stirrup. + +Juanita wondered, since he saluted so gallantly and rode with his face +turned toward her veranda until the hedge intervened, why he did not +smile; she was accustomed to gayer caballeros. She realized that she +must have looked very pretty in her pink gown framed in the blossoming +vines, and she turned away with a pout and a shrug. After all, Fernando +was right: American men did not know how to make love. + +Raquel was rather pale and very quiet that morning, but insisted upon +staying up; she even remembered to ask what the loud calling and running +of many feet had meant the evening before; or had she dreamed it? She +supposed it was a stampede of horses--was it? Was any one hurt? She had +heard the voices of women. + +Ana told her it was only the breaking loose of part of a wild herd, but +that no one was injured. Old Polonia heard, and blinked and scowled at +Ana, but said nothing. + +It was noon when Rafael reached the ranch and caught sight of Raquel in +a porch-chair under the vines. She paled slightly at sight of him, and +turned the onyx ring so that the carving did not show, and by the time +he had crossed the patio and walked to join them, her face was a serene +mask. The only surprise she betrayed was at the dark look he cast on +Ana. + +"Are you two in a politician's pay, that you bring me from Los Angeles +in a fright of life and death, when I am needed every minute there for +the business matters?" he demanded, and saw in a moment that his wife +did not understand. Ana only laughed. + +"I did it," she acknowledged. "I sent the boy with some truths for you. +Your wife was like to die the first night she came. It is by the grace +of God she has been saved from a siege of fever. She does not know in +the least how ill she was, but if you had heard her gabbling of +blood-stained altars and strange wedding-rings, and floods sweeping over +her until she screamed to be saved from them,--well, Don Rafael, you +might well have forgotten to spare your horse. Three hours would have +brought a lover here, but it takes thirty for the husband." + +"Why do you two quarrel always?" asked Raquel, indifferently. "I did not +know she had sent for you. I was very tired, and the hot +sun--something--oh yes, I was ill, and wakened myself screaming. But it +is all gone. I can go home." + +Rafael tramped the veranda and sulked. + +"A fine laugh you have made for me in Los Angeles! They will think you +were sick, that I follow my wife!" he said, frowning at Ana. "God of my +soul! Why do you not get another husband to worry into the grave, and +let your neighbors alone?" + +She only laughed again, and bent over her embroidery frame, where white +butterflies were being woven on the drawn threads of linen. + +"Because no fine, manly, handsome caballero like yourself rides this +way to ask me," she retorted. "All the most desirable men are always +married." + +"The Senor Bryton was here for the night," remarked Juanita. + +"Oh, he was? Alone?" asked Rafael. + +Juanita nodded. "And a priest," she added. "They both rode south." + +"Bryton alone?" mused Rafael. "I thought perhaps--Did any strangers ride +south last night,--a large party?" + +No one had heard of any one passing. + +"Dona Maria comes in a carriage by this morning," he remarked, "and Mrs. +Bryton. I suppose they will want you to travel in their carriage, if you +feel equal to the drive to San Juan." + +"Oh, she must not go to-day--not for anything!" decided Dona Refugia, +who had come from the hall and overheard. "Dona Maria and her friend can +stop here a few days, and then perhaps if your wife is strong enough--" + +"Certainly, that is the best, the very best," assented Rafael, with a +smile of relief. Dona Refugia was making it necessary that Raquel should +at least meet the friends of Dona Maria. All was turning out well, after +all. + +Raquel made no remark, only looked out idly across the garden to the +fields, yellow where the mustard bloom glowed. She knew she could not +bear it just yet. Later, perhaps, she could grow strong enough to see +Bryton's wife, and hear her voice cut across the days and the dusks +here, where his whispers had awakened her to life--some day, perhaps; +but she knew it could not be either to-day or to-morrow. + +Her husband watched her curiously. If she would only give some sign of +what she felt, as another woman would do! How was a man to read a woman +who stared out on life like a sphinx, seeing nothing and hearing +nothing? + +In the same way, she had seemed a bit of wood over that old legend of +the curse on San Juan: it had not changed in the least her determination +to go back there; yet, since she had screamed of it in a fever, who was +to know what feeling it had awakened back of those fathomless violet +eyes? + +Rafael turned this theory over in his mind, and smoked several cigarros +to help to solve the problem, but it was of no use. It had been a very +fine marriage for him. Her visit to Los Angeles had further emphasized +that fact; but he had the galling feeling of being only prince-consort +to the queen, and it was not so pleasant to a man who had been shown +favor of a different sort by many women who would have been glad to +give him the king's place. + +To marry a girl who is like a wooden saint in a church may be a victory; +it may be even romantic when she is half a nun; but it is not comforting +to a husband who expects only a wife, a home. + +Then across his thoughts came the blue eyes and yellow hair of the woman +he had said a reluctant good-bye to in Los Angeles. There was a woman +who would have met all his friends half-way, would have promoted his +interests, instead of closing doors and refusing to entertain any but +the slow old Spanish, who were letting all the money slip out of their +hands. In a few years their names would be forgotten in the new world of +commerce building, through the Americanos in Los Angeles,--the +Americanos whom his wife disdained, but whom the clever little woman of +the blue eyes would have won to his interests in so many ways that her +influence would have weighed down all the gold of the Estevan heiress, +who did not know how to use it. It is only a trick of fate that the +money always goes to the wrong people. + +So he thought, and smoked, and looked at Raquel Estevan de Arteaga, and +wondered by what man[oe]uvre or stratagem he could break down her +prejudices; he wondered, also, how a woman with such eyes and such lips +could be so cold. He supposed it was inherited from the nun, her mother. + +Rafael had never heard the story of the love, and revenge, and widowhood +of that nun. One or two of the older people of San Juan had heard of it +at the time of Estevan's death, but none knew how true it was. It seemed +too much a bit out of the dark ages of the Indian records to be true of +the debonair Felipe, who had ridden and fought to the admiration of all +Californian Mexico, who had found women wherever he rode, and had made +love as a caballero's duty. It seemed scarcely credible that he, of all +men, should have met death in that way on the far southern mountain; and +the older men crossed themselves and tried to forget it, and the younger +ones never heard of it. + +Rafael, smoking on the veranda and watching the serene face of his wife, +and ascribing her coldness to the chill of convent walls, understood her +no more than had Felipe Estevan understood the nun who had stepped down +from her saint's niche for him; and old Polonia, sitting in the shadow, +watched them both, and in her dull brain was also a query: Would he ever +discover that she was not cold? And would he find out in the same way? +Both God and the devil would be needed to help them all on that day, +for California was not the hill of the temple, where the Indian still +ruled! + +Rafael at last rode out to the range to see Don Enrico about several +matters. He did not care to alarm the women concerning the rumors of the +bandits, but now, since he had left Los Angeles behind, he would just as +soon ride with the vigilantes as not, and Don Enrico could be trusted. +It would be five long hours before the carriage with Dona Maria and her +bewitching guest reached the ranch, and one must kill time some way. + +He killed more time than he had counted upon. As the sun began to lower, +and he and Don Enrico turned their horses for the ranch-house, the dogs +started a coyote, and with one accord the Don, his guest, and his +vaqueros, took up the trail, following the howls with hue and cry over +mesa and along creeks, and by the time the dark had fallen, they were +far toward Trabuco. They rode back laughing and singing, and making +little dashes at racing, under the early stars. + +But their laughter was changed when they rode into the corral. News had +come from the south, and a bad thing had happened there. The sheriff +from Los Angeles had been ambushed by the Flores men at Niguel Rancho, +and nine men were lying dead there. Carts were on the way to take them +to San Juan for Christian burial, and Bryton had sent a messenger to Los +Angeles with the word; the man had only checked his horse at San Joaquin +ranch to shout out the news; that was hours ago. The Indian who had +searched the ranges for Don Enrico had come back and said he was not to +be found. Dona Refugia had thought it possible that they had heard the +word on the ranges and ridden direct to San Juan, and thanked God they +had not done so. + +She went on to recount to Rafael her terror of the night before, and the +awful scene from which she had by no means recovered, and now for this +horror to follow so close, and the dread that they might be left alone +on the ranch--well, she was having chills at the thought. Ana was the +only one not afraid, but with Ana gone to San Juan Capistrano-- + +Rafael grasped her arm so tightly that she gasped. + +"To San Juan?" he demanded. "Alone?" But he was certain of the answer +before she spoke. + +"Holy Maria! What a grip you have! No. Did I not tell you? Well, we are +crazy over it all; we forget. No; she went with your wife, and wild +horses could not have held either one of them." + +"A malediction on the pair of them!" burst out Rafael. "God curse the +horses they ride, that they break their necks on the way!" + +"Rafael, for Jesus' sake, not so loud!" and Dona Refugia tried to put +her hand over his mouth, but he dashed it aside in fury. + +"Loud! Holy God! What do I care?" he demanded, wrathfully. "Do you know +why they go like that? It is all a lie, that ambush story. That devil +Ana Mendez has schemed to have some one ride past and call that out to +you, so that they could pretend an excuse to ride anywhere away from +here; and do you know why?" + +Dona Refugia was past speech, and could only shake her head dumbly. + +"Well, I will tell you. It is because Raquel Estevan did not mean to +meet the friends you said you would be pleased to entertain on their +arrival from Los Angeles. Dona Maria she will speak to, but Dona Angela +is one of the heretics she vows her doors will not open to. That is the +reason." + +"But, Rafael--" + +"Now listen to me," and he turned his fierce stride across the hall, +"and God curse me if I do not keep my word!" + +"Rafael!" she gasped, frightened at the white fury of his face; but he +held up his hand. + +"I swear she shall open her door to admit the women she slighted, first +at Los Angeles and again in your home. She will find she has an Arteaga +for a master. She shall open her door; she shall receive her; she shall +make up for the insult to your home. By God, she shall make up, with +interest!" + +Then he strode out of the door, leaving Dona Refugia in a cold terror +lest the guest of whom he spoke had heard his words through the closed +door of Ana's room. It had been given to Mrs. Bryton on the arrival of +the party an hour before, and though the door was closed, who could tell +that his words might not have been heard there? + +But the window on the veranda was open, and Dona Refugia breathed a sigh +of relief when, a few minutes later, she saw Mrs. Bryton's fair face +emerge from a bower of clematis in the garden. She had been admiring the +beauty of the lilies out there, and looked like one herself,--so cool, +so sweetly childish in her little appeals for admiration of the +beautiful blooms she loved. Rafael met her there, and was enslaved anew +by the blue eyes, as he bent over her tiny hand and kissed it furtively, +and walked with her to show her Dona Refugia's carnation-beds, and under +the starlight help her to see the beauties of the San Joaquin garden. + +But old Polonia, who had heard his words to Dona Refugia, and who +watched the two walking in the starlight, muttered in her Indian jargon, +"Have a care, Don Rafael; have a care!" + +Despite Rafael's doubt, it was all true about the ambush. It was quite +true, and very awful. It had occurred in the morning, and Bryton had +missed it only by his stay that night at the ranch. But he was also +quite right when he said the two girls had left the ranch for other +reasons. Raquel was quietly preparing to leave, when the word came +warranting her in taking Ana. The two rode south with few words, each so +wrapped in her own reasons for going that she gave no thought to the +reasons of the other. + +They found the town panic-stricken. Don Juan Alvara was ill, and Padre +Andros absent at San Luis Rey. Raquel rode into the plaza white and weak +from the long ride, but sat erect to hear of the things done and the +things needed for the dead. + +It was almost dark. While Ysadora the cook prepared supper, Ana +questioned concerning a padre who had ridden a San Joaquin horse to San +Juan that morning, but no one had seen him. Later, the animal was found +grazing along Trabuco Creek. Evidently, some one had passed with a wagon +or a herd going south, and had given the padre help on the way: +beyond that, no one thought, except Ana, and what she thought she did +not say. + +Raquel walked through the little hall of the Mission into what had once +been the garden of the padres, the little enclosed bit at the back of +the belfry built after the falling of the tower. It was the one little +corner from which the world seemed shut out. Under the carved doorway +she passed into the old domed vestry with its stone centre cut, or worn +by the dripping water, into the semblance of a leering face; "the +devil's face," it was called, and people looked from its queer smile to +the twisted serpent-like carving over what had once been the arch to the +church itself, and wondered what the strange carvings meant, and found +no one to answer. They were only a sign left by an unknown Mexican +sculptor a half-century ago. + +Raquel glanced at them and shuddered, and passed out into the great +unroofed, beautiful place of fluted pillars and carven cornices. + +The pink reflection of the sunset yet lingered on the mesa and the +highlands above the sea. The world of the strange new town to the north +was left behind. Here among the ruins consecrated, she breathed the air +of home-coming, and paced the old altar-place with noiseless step, and +with closed eyes and hands clasped she murmured prayers not in the +book, taught by the good nuns; and she drew great breaths of strength +from the wine-like air, and knew that somewhere, riding the mesa, a man +was remembering this hour of the rosary. + +Ana found her later on the altar steps, with head bowed over her knees. +Gaining no reply to questions, Ana felt that she had been weeping. She +undressed her and put her to bed in the little chamber of the barred +window facing the sea, and gave her all the care a devoted friend could +in the grim isolation of the old walls. + +And that was the home-coming of Raquel after her half-royal reception in +the City of the Angels. + +[Illustration: "HERE AMONG THE RUINS CONSECRATED"] + +[Music: _El Capotin._] + + Con el capotin, tin, tin, tin, + que es ta noche va llover. + Con el capotin, tin, tin, tin, + que sera al amanecer! + + + + +CHAPTER XV + + +When Andres Pico and his men rode into San Juan with the doubtful +decoration of necklaces of human ears strung on rawhide strings, there +was a breath of relief from the natives: it meant that the bandits had +been "confessed," according to the General's naive explanation of the +absence of prisoners they knew he had taken; the backbone of the bandit +gang was broken. + +The vigilantes were the heroes of the hour. As the band of outlaws +divided and fled in various directions, they were waited for at every +pass and hewn down by the dozen. Only two--Fontez, who had shot the +sheriff, and El Capitan, who had not been seen by any one at any time of +the raid--were still missing. One of the prisoners, on being +questioned, stated that Fontez had taken his share of the plunder and +started for Lower California; and when questioned as to El Capitan, +swore wrathfully, because El Capitan had disagreed with Flores over the +raid, refused to be counted in, and in consequence they would all go to +hell! If El Capitan had helped, things would have been different, very +different. He had voted against starting out with fifty men to drive the +gringos from Southern California; he had fought them before in the open, +and knew them. He had told Flores he was a fool, and left them in +Santiago Canyon, and ridden away, and after the slaughter of the sheriff +and his men he had ridden out of the mustard on a horse of the San +Joaquin brand, and told them to ride south and stop for nothing; and no +one had seen him since. They had not taken his advice--and now it was +all over! A little later, it certainly was over for that particular +unfortunate, and his ears were added to a string decorating a swarthy +ranchman, who was especially lionized because of his gruesome trophies. + +In the plaza of San Juan Mission, Ana listened to the hero of the +necklace reciting all the glories of the campaign, and shuddered at the +ghastly witness of its veracity. Raquel, standing beside her horse, +listened also and felt a loathing of it all. Regular war, such as she +had heard of, had never appeared so awful as this series of slaughters +from ambush, where the victors of either side decked themselves like +savages. + +"It is bad that we have no soldiers left who are hidalgos," she +remarked. "The wild Indians carry scalps at their belts; I did not know +people did so who had learned their religion from the padres." + +She mounted and rode toward the sea, the only woman who dared venture +alone out of sight of the protecting walls of the Mission in those days. +The man with the necklace looked after her, and then up at the line of +grain-sacks still left as a barricade along the roofs of the corridor. +Behind them, men with rifles had lain through the days and nights when +the panic was at its worst, and women and children had huddled in dread +of massacre in the inner court. + +"Does the senora forget all that," he asked, "or is there a caballero to +guard her where she rides?" + +Ana turned on the hero, glad of an outlet for her pent-up anger. +"You--you butcher!" she said between her little white teeth. "You know +Rafael Arteaga is not here. What other man would ride with his wife?" + +"Who knows?" he laughed, easily. "The lady is not afraid, that is clear; +and El Capitan is somewhere in the hills, or the willows." + +She said nothing, realizing that he was watching her closely, for all +his apparent carelessness. When she continued silent, he laughed and +swept his sombrero to the ground and sauntered away. She knew then that +he had simply tried her, to see if by any chance she showed knowledge +of, or fear for, the outlaw she had never disowned as cousin. + +Teresa, seated beside her, saw her changing color, and reached over, +patting her hand. + +"Even when thou wert little the Capitan made a pet of thee," she said, +kindly; "and now every friend he ever had is being watched. If--if--in +any way you could warn him--" + +"Warn him? How can we, when no one knows? I would walk barefoot across +San Juan Mountain if I knew where he was hidden. He may be dying, or +dead." + +"That is so," decided Teresa, placidly; "and it would be better. They +will always hunt him if he is alive." + +There was silence between them for a little while, and then she added, +"Well, there will be no mourning for him in the Arteaga family. Rafael +will be glad." + +"Oh, he!" muttered Ana, with impatience. "He is hanging on the skirts of +Dona Maria these days, when he should be here with these other fine +gentlemen." She pointed to the plaza where the vigilantes and their +friends were gathered preparatory to starting on a new trail suggested +by an Indian who had seen a white man without a horse somewhere in the +hills. + +"On the skirts of Dona Maria," repeated Teresa, her little eyes +twinkling with interest. "It is true, then--it is that English woman +still?" + +"Still? How you talk! Is it so long since Los Angeles?" + +"Oh, it was long, long before that! I was--Santa Maria!--I had a fright +for a while! I thought there would be no wedding. He was crazy as a boy +over her. It started, oh, with only a pin-point of a chance; for the +Americano Bryton was here, and her eyes were for him! And then--Basta! +All at once things changed, and Dona Angela and Don Rafael were never +apart; and if she had not been married, I think always Raquel Estevan +would have had no husband here in San Juan Capistrano." + +"Raquel--does she know?" + +"Raquel Estevan is too proud to show if she knows, just as she is now! +Never will she go along or follow him when he rides abroad, but if she +knew his time was with that heretic--she hates the heretics!" + +"She is patient with him." + +"Oh, sure; she is a good wife. But if she cared more, would she do as +she did when the girl Marta came to the Mission with her child? On my +soul, I think Rafael was afraid when she gave to Marta the bed and the +clothes, and counted out how many cattle she could have,--to say no word +as to how she stood herself as godmother at the baptism! The padre +laughs over that!" + +"And Rafael--?" + +"Rafael--God knows what he said to her! He tried to make her send some +one else as godmother, and she would not. Ysadora heard her say 'It is +for your soul's sake, and the souls of your children, Rafael,' and he +turned white and walked away." + +"Poor Rafael," mocked Ana, "I do not think that he has much of a soul. +It is as when a man sees he is beloved for his bravery, and all the time +he is afraid of his own shadow, and hopes the one who loves him will not +discover his weakness: that is how Rafael feels when his wife does +penance, and prays for the soul he has not." + +"How you talk! We have all a soul; the padre says so." + +"Oh, the padre! The soul of our padre is also like a grain of mustard +seed--so small, and no soil to grow in! Never could I confess to him. I +wait until Padre Sanchez comes; no one but a Franciscan priest do I +believe in." + +"Ai! and if you should get sick and die, and Padre Sanchez on some other +side of the world? He is always travelling; never will he settle and +gather 'dobe dollars like our padre. Suppose he should not come; you +would die without confession?" + +"No; I would hang on to the edge of life by some thread of prayer until +he came." + +"Padre Pedro of the north was here last month: that man makes me afraid. +He tries to be a saint, and is so often under vows. This time it was a +vow not to speak, and Padre Andros was glad when he took to the road. It +was like a black ghost to see him walk the plaza with a black hood over +his head, and never a word or look up from the ground. You would think +the saints he prayed to lived somewhere in the roads. We thanked God and +emptied some bottles with the padre when he was out of sight." + +"But he is a good man." + +"Oh, he is a saint; but we can't feel easy with saints in San Juan. That +is why your Raquel Estevan will always be outside." + +"You mean above," retorted Ana. "The devil's face in the stone of the +Mission dome fits better this place of the necklace of ears." + +Teresa shuddered. + +"It is bad luck to say things of that face," she warned. "Some think +maybe it was an Indian god,--I heard an old Indio say so once. Never +will I go under the dome of that old vestry since that day." + +"How would an Indian god be put in a Christian church?" + +"No one knows," and Teresa crossed herself. "The old Indios say it is +bad luck to talk about it; so whatever the story is, it has been +forgotten, and that is better. When I was a little child the old Indios +told strange ghost and curse stories, and we were all much afraid; now +the old Indios are mostly dead, and no one else remembers, only all are +still afraid of the earthquake ruin at night." + +"They are sheep; they are afraid of their shadows at night," retorted +Ana; "that is why Raquel will always be, as you say, 'outside'!" + +"Well, she goes against the padre, and that is always bad. It is bad +luck to fight a padre; he can refuse absolution." + +Ana made no reply. She was very weary of the endless, endless stories of +Raquel's unlikeness to the other women; and what they did not understand +they would like to condemn. She knew so well that in Mexico the Dona +Luisa and the Dona Raquel had met only the hidalgos when they went for a +brief visit to the world of people, but in San Juan there were no +hidalgos; only the mixed races without pride of birth or distinction, +apart from the lands and cattle around them on the ranges. Ana could +feel, better than any other, why the wife of Rafael rode alone to the +cliffs above the sea, seeking kinship there in the isolation. + +In vain Ana had tried to solve the problem given her by the padre at the +San Joaquin ranch that strange evening: his quick change of attitude +toward the Americano,--even asking her friendliness and her welcome for +him if he crossed her path. The queer idea of the Americano's love +affairs was the most puzzling of all: it never occurred to her that he +meant Raquel--Raquel, who avoided all heretics! Still, it was strange +that she never thought of the Americano's love affair without +involuntarily trying to picture a woman who would look like Raquel. And +she did not dream those two had ever met. + +As Pico and his men got into the saddles and started north she heard him +mention Bryton's name. The latter had evidently tired quickly of +vigilante work; at any rate he had disappeared as effectually as El +Capitan,--no one had seen him for over a week. And of course no one had +time to hunt him up. + +At Trabuco Creek the vigilantes passed an Indian boy loping easily +along the valley road. When stopped and questioned, he stated he was +going to the Mission from San Joaquin ranch. The brand on the bronco +corroborated his story, and he was let pass with slight attention; yet +they would have found him quite worth while. + +Ana had gone with Teresa to make a little visit to Don Juan Alvara, who +was still ill, and very impatient at being housed up when all the world +of San Juan was astir to see the cavalcade of avengers. He was asking +sharply why Rafael Arteaga was following his English partner's example, +and keeping out of the work of search or battle. It was to be expected +that Don Eduardo Downing, after being forced by El Capitan to pay over a +thousand dollars as tribute to the Flores bandits, would feel that he +was exempt from active service in pursuit of them; they had cost him +quite enough. And of course he had never anything but an alien's +interest in the country, the interest of dollars; but with Rafael +Arteaga it was different. What was he doing these days, when every man +who held stock and could fight rode abroad? + +The women exchanged glances. Of what use to tell Alvara it was a woman? +He would only be more disgusted, and might say things to Dona Raquel, +and that would never do. + +Teresa's curiosity as to results led her very close to it, for her new +sister-in-law was a thorn in the side of the bovine ponderous +Californian, by whom the "brown girls" had been accepted as a part of +domestic life. Ever since she had listened that day to the story of +vengeance in Old Mexico, she had resented everything about it, even the +child of that strange marriage, the child who had inherited--who knew +how much?--of the blood and instincts of that saintly, half-Indian nun. + +Yes, Teresa would have dearly loved to watch Raquel Estevan when the +story was told; also the story of Rafael's latest infatuation; yet, all +the Arteaga boys had died violent deaths, and she had no wish to see the +last one of them murdered. She was certain that if it did happen, the +ghost of Dona Luisa would be at the foot of her bed every night, and she +would have to pay a lot for masses. They cost thirty-five dollars since +the padre was building new fences around his orchards. So she contented +herself with wishing as much as she dared without being held liable by +the ghost of Dona Luisa in case of accidents. And then Ana was always +there with her eyes, and if any one did tell Alvara, Ana would ferret it +out, and she had such a tongue! + +While they reassured the old man, and told him the troublous days of +San Juan were nearly over, the Indian boy from the San Joaquin ranch +stopped at the gate. + +"There is a letter for Dona Ana Mendez," he said. "It came last night. +Dona Refugia sent it." + +"Dona Refugia?" Ana knew that her aunt could not write, and that the +accomplishments of her daughters in that line extended to the ability to +inscribe their own names. She glanced at the message, and her lips grew +suddenly white as she noted the writing. + +It was in pencil, written very plainly. The envelope was folded from a +page of letter-paper and sealed with gum of some sort. When she opened +it, she found the written page was a communication to Mr. Bryton +concerning saddle-horses. But a pencil was drawn through the lines, and +around the Bryton letter was written the real message, and it was very +brief: + +_"A man is hurt here. Can you in quiet help him to San Juan?"_ + +An arrow and a cross were the only signature. + +Teresa watched Ana questioningly. Letters to women were rare in San +Juan, where few women could read; it must be of a death, or something of +great importance. + +But Ana told nothing, only ordered the boy to go to Ysadora for some +lunch before he started back, and to tell Dona Refugia that all was +well at San Juan. Though Dona Teresa listened closely, that was all she +could hear that was said, and then she knew, of course, that Ana did not +intend to remain a widow. She had a lover who wrote letters, an +Americano perhaps; the Mexicans did not trouble themselves with such +useless learning, now that the old padres were gone. + +Ana sat quietly on the veranda for a little while, speaking of matters +in general, and then arose languidly and confessed she wished she had +gone with Raquel. A ride to the beach was better than to stay shut up in +the town. Now that the vigilantes had gone, women would dare ride abroad +without growing gray with fear. + +"Ai! it is not far you would ride, Ana Mendez. You are like other women +when it comes to riding alone these days." + +"Raquel rides alone." + +"Her mother was not of this country, or she would not be so bold," +returned Teresa, tartly. "Men have little liking for women as strong as +themselves." + +"Alas for me!" laughed Ana, "for I tell you now I am going to copy after +her. She makes the other women look like sheep. If she would go with me, +I would ride to the San Joaquin ranch this night and have no fear." + +Teresa shrugged her shoulders. + +"You grow like a child, Ana, as you get more years. Your letter makes +you young again--so?" + +But Ana was out of the gate, and crossing the plaza with a light springy +step, as if indeed the days of girlhood had come back. In her eyes was a +smile, but back of the smile was a light of new determination. All at +once she seemed to have found herself: he was in danger, and had called +her. + +At the Mission she found the Indian boy with a dish of frijolles. + +"How did the letter come?" she asked, but he did not know. It was found +under the door, and it had frightened Dona Refugia, and she wanted it +out of the house when the men were away. She thought it, maybe, was a +demand for money, such as the outlaws had sent Senor Eduardo Downing, +and she asked Ana for the love of God to send word back quick what it +meant. + +"It is only from the padre who borrowed the horse, and he thanks her," +said Ana, coolly. "Ride straight home, and talk to no one, or you will +get a reata instead of frijolles." + +The Indian boy nodded silently. He knew the Dona Ana always kept her +promises of that sort. + +A little later, Teresa looked out at the sound of horse-hoofs +thundering by, and saw Ana on the road to the sea. + +She let her horse have his head until she came to the Rancho de la +Playa, when she halted to scan the meadow and sand of the shore, and +then bent her attention to the ground, and paced slowly along until she +found the tracks of Raquel's horse turning to the right. There was only +one road to be followed to the right; she had gone through the little +canyon of the cactus and up to the heights above. More than once Dona Ana +halted to examine the ground, to be sure that no later tracks had been +made on a return trip. Then, away across the mesa she saw Raquel's horse +browsing among the sage-brush on the cliff above the sea. Raquel was +nowhere in sight; but, knowing she was near, Ana rode quietly along the +bluff, until right at the edge of the cliff she saw her stretched at +full length in the odorous grasses, her chin propped on her hands, +staring down the steeps where yellow poppies nodded to the surf below. A +cluster of the blossoms was beside her, and her skirt was torn. She had +evidently been down there after them, and was resting after her climb. + +"What is it, Anita?" she asked after a brief upward glance. "Is there a +spirit of unrest with you also? Some say there is sleep and +forgetfulness in these little cups of gold. I have gathered some and +lain here a long time, but it is not true, Anita. There is no +forgetting." + +Ana slipped from the saddle and came closer. Never before had so much of +confession been heard from Raquel Arteaga. + +"What, then, do you try to forget, my darling?" she asked, caressingly. +"Your love and happiness?" + +"Love is not happiness," said Raquel, and laid her cheek against the +sheaf of poppies. "Why do people say so? Do they wish to lie, or do they +not know? The heart does not laugh with love; it aches. The light and +the glory of it comes, and after that comes the earthquake; and the life +is shaken out of us, and all we can do is to make ourselves a +sacrifice." + +"Holy saints! I never knew love was all that!" acknowledged Ana. "It +means also to dance, to listen to your lover's songs in the night under +your window, and to go to sleep satisfied that he is not with some other +girl. It means stolen looks like kisses. I never am sure but that they +are sweeter than the kisses themselves, though they do not make one +mad." + +[Illustration: "THERE IS NO FORGETTING"] + +Raquel looked at her, and smiled strangely, and rose to her feet. + +"Ai! you are right, Anita; it is without doubt more wise to love like +that. All the girls in the willows think so." As she saw Ana's face +flush, she turned in quick contrition. "Ah, forgive me! You do not love +as they do, I am sure--those fat brown animals; but, Anita darling, I am +a tired soul, and rest is somewhere far beyond the ranges, and--ah, +well,--forgive me!" + +Ana smiled and shrugged her shoulders. + +"Why should I not?" she asked; "for, after all, you are right. All human +things are much alike when they love--the brown girls in the willows +also. They nurse their babies and thank the Virgin they are not +childless, as I am." + +"And you--?" + +"I am thankful to be as I am. When I have children, I want to love the +father of them. My people did not ask if I loved my husband. They made +the marriage, and God made me a widow. I thank God always that when I +marry again I can do my own choosing." + +"Oh, when you marry again! Good! When is it to be?" + +Ana laughed and then grew grave. + +"You may help me to decide," she said, a trifle nervously. "I am going +to elope to-night. Will you ride along?" + +"Anita!" + +"It is up there," and Ana waved her hand toward the blue mountains above +Trabuco. "It is a long ride, but the moon shines, and--I am trusting +you!" + +"And the man?" + +"Your husband hates him, and will find fault if you go." + +"And he does not come to you?" + +"He is--I think he is hurt," said Ana. "And I am going, though I go +alone." + +"You shall not go alone," and Raquel whistled to her horse. "Come! I +needed something of this sort to rouse me from poppy dreams. I ride with +you, my Anita; and the man, whoever he is, has my blessing." + +They galloped together through the sweet-smelling grasses, and a load +was lifted from Ana's heart. With Raquel beside her, she could ride +care-free from danger to the man who had called her. + +"I have not been told to take any one along," she confessed, "so I +cannot mention names; but there is a man hurt, and we must manage to get +extra horses away from the Mission, and things to eat, perhaps, for we +go where no people live; and--I--that is all I dare tell you." + +"It is enough, my Anita. We will ride together like nobles of old Spain +seeking adventures, only we will storm no castles, and wear no colors to +denote our caballeros!" + +She was elated as a child over the secret journey they were to take over +unknown roads. The poppy dreams were left at the edge of the cliff, and +she rode lightly across the divide, where at other times she ever halted +for the picture of ocean and valley stretching from San Mateo at the sea +to San Jacinto of the ranges. + +"I knew it was love in thy heart for some one, Anita," she said, +smiling. "Religion alone does not make a woman comprehend heartaches for +other women. You are the only one of all of them who asks no questions, +yet you put your arms around me that crazy night when I rode from Los +Angeles, and all at once I felt that I need not hold with tired hands a +mask to my face for you." + +"Holy Mary! I know, and why not? My family married me to the wrong man," +said Ana, easily. "But I was lucky in one thing, and I know enough now +to thank the saints for it,--I had not learned what love meant, so the +other man had not come." + +"And if he had?" + +They had checked their speed to descend the steep ravine cut in the +heart of the mesa, and giving outlet to the blue sea. Raquel was +intent, apparently, on finding the best footing for her horse, and did +not look up at once, but when no reply came she tried to laugh, and +repeated the question. + +"I did not answer," said Ana, after a moment, "because, Raquelita, when +you made me think of it, truly it seemed as if my heart stopped beating +that minute. Poor Jose, my husband! It would have gone hard with him, +and my relatives would have cursed me." + +"And why?" + +"I think I should have risked the purgatory they would have sent me to, +but I would ride as we are riding now, straight to the man--the one +man." + +"And suppose--suppose, Anita, you were bound by a vow to the dead--could +you ride away from that? Suppose that so long as you lived you were set +to guard one living soul--that each day when you awoke, your prayers +were to keep worthy for the task; suppose--" + +"No, no! I will not suppose. A woman can endure just so much, no more. I +know you are doing all this, my Raquel, and I see that it is forever one +big fight and sacrifice, and all your life it will be the same. But, +Raquel, when you awake and pray each morning, thank the Virgin at the +same time that the other man has not yet ridden into your heart. I know +you do not think of men--that it is to live ever in cloisters! But pray +God that the man may never come, Raquel--for a girl is only a girl, +after all!" + +"Of course, but--" + +"Oh, you would argue, because you do not know!" burst out Ana, with +impatience. "Raquel, you are so good you are always beautiful; but I +tell you truly, that if it should happen--all the saints could not help +you. Between your vow for the soul of Rafael and your love for the one +man--" + +"Well, my Anita?" + +"Well, you could not live through it and remain what you are. Any woman +would go mad--any woman." + +Raquel touched her horse and galloped up the steep hill ahead of Ana. +Down the longer one to Boca de la Playa she rode in the same reckless +way, and it was not until they had reached El Camino Real that she +pulled her horse in, and allowed Ana to come alongside. + +"Jesusita! how you ride away from me!" gasped her friend. "Wait until I +braid up my hair. Look at it--all the new pins lost, the pretty ones you +brought me from Los Angeles. We will send a boy back to hunt them." + +Raquel sat silent on her panting horse, looking out on the wide sea and +saying nothing. Ana glanced at her white face while braiding her hair, +and thought it looked cold and determined, almost angry; and as they +started on once more, she reached across and touched her hand. + +"Do not make your eyes like cold agates of violet," she entreated. +"Truly, I meant not to anger you, and I know you are good always, and +think only of your vows. But even the saints have known temptation, my +Raquel, and some who might have been saints have lost souls for a man or +a woman." + +"Oh, my own soul!" and Raquel shrugged her shoulders with a dreary +smile. "It is the soul of Rafael I am set to guard. Only that must I +think of every day of my life. My own! Only Mother Mary knows what my +own may become." + +"His mother knew the power of the heretics; it was not fair, Raquelita." + +"It is judgment," said Raquel, steadily. "I asked God to give me some +work for the Church in the world, instead of within the convent walls. +It was brought to me; I accepted it on my knees. What any of us think +now does not change that in the least. I must live till I die with that +thought." + +"So I know," conceded Ana, "and so I thank God the other man does not +come. You would know then how to feel sympathy for the women who fail, +or the women who do mad things such as I mean to do to-night." + +"Do I not understand? Do I not go with you? Yes, ahead of you, for my +horse beats yours," replied Raquel; and from that to the Mission plaza +there was only the sound of hoof-beats on the hard road, and no more +words of love or lovers. + +A man had come from San Diego with a message from Rafael Arteaga. He +would be at San Juan in a few days, and was bringing guests for a +barbecue. Strange word had come from the vigilantes of the disappearance +of Bryton, the Americano. It had been learned that he had not returned +to Los Angeles, neither had he gone south. To free Mrs. Bryton from +anxiety, Rafael and Don Eduardo meant to find him and make a holiday +while doing it. + +Raquel Arteaga listened, and Ana noticed all at once how white and tired +she looked from the little gallop. + +"Get down from the saddle, my dear," she said, appealingly. "Lift her, +you, Victorio. Mother Mary! Do not faint, Raquel!" + +Raquel did not faint. She thanked the muscular Victorio, who lifted her +from the saddle as though she had been but a little child, and placed +her on one of the long seats of brick, while Ana ran for water, and old +Polonia crouched beside her and looked up in her face, but did not +speak. She had heard the name of the hated Americano, and she had no +need to ask questions. It was the witchcraft come over her again; even +the sound of his name could bring it! + +"No, I am not ill, Ana. I really am not," she persisted. "You say I turn +white. Well, it may be I had no dinner--I think I forgot it, or those +heroes the vigilantes took my appetite. See! I can stand; I am quite +well. I am ready for the San Joaquin ride when the sun goes down." + +"But, if harm should come?" + +"Never fear. To go will not harm me. I am very strong--stronger than you +think. Ai! I shall live long--a long, long time, Anita!" + +She arose and passed through the door of the carved Aztec sun and little +half-crescents, and Ana looked after her doubtfully. + +"It is the Americana?" said Victorio, with a shrug and lifted brows. +"Rafael Arteaga is mad after that baby woman--just mad. I think it makes +Dona Maria afraid. It would not be well to have the wrong things happen +in her house; so they jump at the chance to ride north together, for any +reason at all, and bring Don Rafael to his own wife. That is all the +reason they come: Dona Maria is afraid." + +"But to bring them here! The Dona Raquel is not fond of heretics." + +"I think myself it is the woman and not the religion she will think of +when they come," said Victorio; "and she must have heard +something,--what else made her look like that?" + +"Who knows? A woman may be tired, may she not? You talk a great deal for +a man of your years!" + +"Oh, it is only to you, Senora. It is as well some one knows who is a +friend,--that pretty white baby of a woman has the 'money eye.' Some one +should warn Dona Raquel, for who knows where it will end? You know the +Arteaga men." + +Ana nodded her head. + +"We all know them; but, thanks to God, the right woman has come into the +family. I do not know what she will do--Estevan's daughter; but Rafael +will learn what a curb-bit means if he go too far. Women who do not care +whether they live or die are more reckless than the wildest man, +Victorio; and Rafael will do well to say good-bye to heretic pets." + +Victorio shrugged his shoulders, and did not quite believe. Of course a +woman could do a lot with a man if he was not so foolish as to marry +her, but after that what could she do but keep the home and obey? Some +of them found other amusements when their husbands rode abroad, but what +more could they do than that, even the most powerful? + +Of course if Dona Raquel were not his wife, Rafael might be faithful: +Victorio acknowledged he knew how that was himself. There was a woman +who kept his house, and now after four years of content, the padre was +at him for a marriage fee, and was putting the devil in the woman's +head, and there was discord. All had been content for all those years, +but when the marriage was even talked of, there was trouble; and +Victorio had no use for it except, of course, if the woman was dying, or +if he was--then the padre could get the marriage made. The money was +saved up in case of such need for absolution, but otherwise-- + +Ana interrupted him angrily, though she knew he voiced the masculine +opinion of the valley. She had heard the padre complain that the women +had also refused marriage for the same reason; so there was little could +be done, and she knew that if Rafael Arteaga should fail openly within +the year of his marriage, there would be laughs and shrugs, and the +marriage fees would be fewer than ever. The example of their superiors +was all that was needed to break all the little invisible bonds told of +in the prayer-books, but remembered so little in the everyday life. + +"Oh, you need not rail at me, Dona Ana," protested Victorio; "I am only +one--and I feed my children! You do not believe so much in Rafael +Arteaga yourself; and, after all, it may come right. It depends most on +the woman." + +"Dona Raquel Arteaga?" + +"Never! She is only a wife; it is the other who is still _the_ woman." + +Ana flung an angry look at the pessimistic, philosophic vaquero, and +followed Raquel, slamming the door after her to emphasize her impatience +with his all-too-true statements. + +She checked her tempestuous entrance at sight of the wife they were +discussing, kneeling at the little altar in the corner of her own room. +The tall candles were lit, and before the shrine of the Virgin Raquel +was prostrate. + +Ana crossed herself and went out softly, half afraid that the argument +in the corridor had been heard through the thick adobe walls. This new +sign of Raquel's disfavor at every mention of the Americanos gave Ana +several unpleasant moments. The letter now in her pocket had belonged to +the Americano whom they were coming to search for: dare she mention it +to the girl kneeling there at the shrine? Or did not the news brought by +Victorio Lopez make more imperative the need for secrecy? In riding the +hills for Bryton, what others hidden there might be discovered for +death? + +Ana sent an Indian with a pack-mule of provisions to the sheep-herders' +cabin in Trabuco canyon, with instructions to wait there until the men +came for it, and in every way made smooth the details for the journey of +the night. + +Don Antonio, the major-domo for the Arteagas, had ridden north with the +vigilantes, so there was no one to oppose or question the order of Ana, +given in the name of Dona Raquel. + +Teresa shrugged her shoulders and said some things when the two mounted +and rode gaily northward. She hoped Dona Refugia would say some things +to them for the good of their souls when they reached the ranch. Ana had +always been a little rebel; it was well they married her when they did! +No one gave much heed to Ana's vagaries or strange whims, but with +Raquel it was different. The opinions of Dona Luisa concerning the +convent novice secured as a daughter were well known in the San Juan +valley: she was a saint, no less. But Teresa watched the slender girlish +form riding away on the black horse, and hated the grace and daring of +her as only gross creatures can hate refined ones, and had her own ideas +of two women who were young, riding like that toward darkness,--the +darkness where even men scarcely dared ride alone these days. One might +be saintly in soul, yet do indiscreet things in this mundane world. And +Teresa wished them a lesson, from the centre of her fat heart. + +[Music: _Mi Memoria._] + + Mi memoria en ti se ocupa + No te olvida un solo instante, + Y mi mente delirante En ti piensa, + en ti piensa sin cesar. + +[Music] + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + + +The dark was falling when the two girls reached the sheep-herders' cabin +in Trabuco. Jose, the boy with the pack-mules and the led horse, had +arrived before them, and, shaking with fear, had built a fire with which +to banish the threatening shadows. No herders were there, and to stay in +the isolated canyon with the mule and mustang was not to his taste. Jose +belonged to the Mission garden work, or the driving of the cows to +pasture, and had little relish for the adventurous life of the ranges. +He appreciated not at all the confidence placed in him by the laughing +Dona Ana. + +But Ana had no desire to trust an older man, even an Indian, and when +they reached the cabin she delighted his soul by giving him a gold +piece, the first he had ever earned, and telling him to go straight back +to San Juan; and unless he wanted his own ears to wear on a string +around his neck, he was to utter no word of having seen any one at the +sheep-herders' cabin. His task was over when he left the provisions and +extra horses there. + +Glad enough to escape so easily from the prospect of a night where wild +cats and mountain lions were no strangers, Jose not only promised, but +swore by the Virgin and Jesusita that no one at San Juan should be the +wiser for his having seen the ladies in that devil of a canyon. If they +never came out alive, he would confess to the padre before All Souls' +Day, but until then not a word would they get from him even by whippings +and salt water! + +Despite the fervor of his protestations, Ana rode up the terrace of the +mesa, and sat there watching the trail along the creek until she saw him +cross far below, a moving dot against the yellow stretch of sand, and +knew that he was indeed moved by winged fear and had none of the courage +for spy's work. + +Raquel watched the first star break through the blue, and knew that, if +he was alive, somewhere in the width of California a man watched it +also, and shut out for one brief instant any crowding humanity +surrounding him. It seemed a very far-away thing, this tryst of the +star, and never--never, any day of her life, durst she dream of bringing +it closer. + +Ana found her huddled in the crooked white arm of a great aliso tree, +and regarded with dismay the quivering shoulders and face hidden against +the white bark. + +[Illustration: THE ALISO TREE.] + +"Raquelita!" she said, in quick contrition. "I have asked too much of +you, to ride with me blindfold into the wilderness. Say so, and ride +back while it is yet light to reach the road. It was wrong to ask you to +share burdens of others. I am at your feet, darling. Do not blame me too +much, for--" + +Raquel lifted her head and looked at her, and smiled through tears. + +"Anita mia, you cannot send me back, for I will not go. Do not fancy me +unhappy because--oh--because of anything. I feel, here in the open, more +at home than any moment since I came to California. We were of the hill +folk, my mother's people, and out under the stars in the night all their +old buried instincts awake in me--the pagan gladness of the wilderness." + +"You do not look glad," said Ana, doubtfully. + +"Child, child! who of us is glad with unmixed gladness, after the door +has been closed on our youth and the dreams of youth?" + +She slid from her perch and slipped her hand through her friend's arm. + +"But to-night, beloved, we will close other doors--the doors of the +world of people. This tree shall be the last landmark; beyond this we +ride over enchanted ground, and fancy all wild sweet things of our +destination. You go to--to your lover, perhaps; and I--I ride to dream +dreams in the open." + +"But, Raquelita--" + +"Never fear they will lead us too far astray, the harmless dreams," she +laughed. "If they do, I shall do heavy penance; be sure of that!" + +"You look like a witch, instead of a devotee, in this half-light," +observed Ana. "Your eyes are like stars; and--what has wakened in you +this wild mood? Is it the wilderness alone?" + +"Not quite," acknowledged Raquel, demurely. "Since you will have a +definite cause, I will confess, Anita mia, that it was the white, strong +arms of--of--never look so frightened, dear,--of my friend the aliso +tree!" + +They both laughed, but Ana sat a moment by the little camp-fire and +stared at her. + +"That is all very well, and you have your good fun with me," she said; +"but out here you are a different person from the lady of your +cloisters. Yet nothing has happened to make you different--nothing, +except that we are in the open." + +"Nothing? O thou wise one!" mocked Raquel. "But a star shone out, and +its rays bewitch people sometimes, when it shines down into the heart +until the radiance there is too great for one little bosom to hold; and +it trembles to the lips, and all the eager longings of the world are +understood, and one feels very, very close to one's own soul; and one +feels that just beyond that star, or just beyond the bend of the trail +up here, one might find it. So, let us ride hard and fast, my Anita,--I +to my bewitched fancies, and you to your lover." + +"And I--I thought you did not understand!" muttered Ana. "That was +because never before have I seen you without the hedges of people about +you. God forgive Rafael Arteaga, who has known and ridden away!" + +"Hush!" said Raquel; "our outer world is on the other side of the aliso +tree. That is our plaza, and this the inner court. Life itself has the +same divisions: all the world may cross the plaza, but the inner court +of one's own soul is the sanctuary, where only one may kneel beside us; +it is the tabernacle of the heart, and no word of Church or your own +will can give to anyone the key, or--Santa Maria!--take it out of the +hands to which it is given by divine right!" + +"Raquel, beloved!" cried Ana, in dismay, "you are not laughing at me +now. You make my heart ache with your words and your smile,--more with +the smile, I think. And what you say is--is almost sacrilege. No Spanish +mother teaches her daughter that the sacrament of the Church is not, +above all things, binding. Those who break it are taught the sin of it." + +"But I had no Spanish mother to teach me; only a priest and an old +Indian woman. The nuns never spoke of the worldly ties, they were so +sure I should never know them." + +"But, Raquelita, you rode gladly north to Rafael; you--" + +"Yes; I was more a devotee than I ever shall be again," acknowledged +Raquel, with a sigh. "I remember the elated, half-dreamlike way in which +I rode over those mesas to meet him. I was riding to help to guard a +wonderful soul and a wonderful life for the Church. I was upheld by the +conviction that God desired it. If, instead of asking me to marry a +husband for the good of a soul, they had asked me to ride my horse into +the sea and wait for the rising tide, and given as convincing a churchly +reason, I should have ridden into the sea and waited, I suppose. It is +bad for one when the dreams go, and the clear vision begins." + +"But Rafael--" + +"Rafael, beloved, is contented with the life of the plaza. He will +always be; and--the inner court is forever this side of the aliso tree. +Come! The stars are thick now, and if we have far to ride--" + +Dona Ana untied the mule and the mustang. + +"I think they will follow; but it is best, perhaps, to keep a rope on +the mustang. I will lead him, and I have a bell I will tie later to his +neck; it may help in the dark if we should go wide of the trail." + +The wilder mood of Raquel in the great out-of-doors, where she became +something besides the girl of the cloisters, had a sobering effect on +Ana herself. A girl who would sacrifice herself through a temporary +religious fervor was not one to look with favor on any sacrifice or risk +for heretics. Again and again she thought of the letter to the Americano +on which that message had been pencilled. She thought also of the words +of friendship uttered by Padre Libertad for the same American, at the +San Joaquin ranch. Was it that the latter was dead, and thus his letters +accessible? Or was there a chance that the man whom Don Eduardo and his +guests were to start in search of was held either by a friend or an +enemy in the hills they were riding to? + +She had felt sure, without hearing it put into words, that Raquel rode +from the ranch that night to avoid Mrs. Bryton. What other reason could +there be? Therefore, was it fair to lead her blindfold to meet another +of that heretic family, to whom she would not open her door even to +please her husband? They had mounted their horses when the certainty +that it was not fair came upon Ana, and she slipped from the saddle and +stirred up the sulking embers of the little fire until it broke into a +blaze. + +"Raquel, it is no use! I must tell you before we start. The man I go to +see is the friend of a heretic whom you bar out from your knowledge. The +message sent me is written on a letter of Bryton's. You heard them say +Senor Bryton cannot be found; and there is a chance--only a chance--that +he may be in the mountain where we are going." + +Raquel stared at her, and did not speak. In the flickering light Ana +could see that her eyes grew large--with dread, or anger, or what? Even +her lips grew pale, and she almost seemed to sway in the saddle. + +"Raquelita mia, I was wrong, I know it was wrong to bring you; but oh, +my beloved--" + +"You--did not know--he--was here?" + +"I did not think. The devil put mud where my brain should be! It is only +when we are on the road it commences to trouble me; and now your +words--your--Oh, I know that of all women in California, you hate the +heretics most; and now it is I who--" + +"Tell me what the letter says," interrupted Raquel, who now sat erect in +the saddle, rigid and white. "You said your friend was hurt and--" + +"Some one is hurt; I do not know who. You can read the letter if you +bend down here. Who knows? It may be his American friend." + +"Mother mia! It may be, it may be!" + +She covered her face with her hands, and Ana, looking at her, thought +she was praying for strength to remember humanity ahead of the creeds. +At last she spoke. + +"Anita mia, never feel so badly about it. We did not plan this, you and +I, but it happens--it happens! There is only one straight thing to do: I +can ride back to San Juan when you learn the truth. If it is the +Americano, the word shall go to his wife quickly. I need not see the +man, but I can carry a message, and I will; God helping me to the +strength, I will!" + +"His wife? Santa Maria! The man has no wife. Half the girls of Los +Angeles county try to marry him, but it is never any use." + +"Anita!" + +"How you stare at me, Raquel! You think I mean some other American, +maybe. No? I speak of Don Keith Bryton. You hate them all so; no one +ever speaks of them to you; but he is not bad. He saved your Indian +woman at the ranch while you slept. You did not know it all." + +"Stop, and let me think," said Raquel, imperatively. "Some one has lied. +Who is the fair woman with the blue eyes--the Mrs. Bryton--the Dona +Angela he drove with--the--" + +"She is the widow of his half-brother; that is all." + +"All? Then how--why should Teresa say this thing? Yesterday I heard her +say that Dona Angela made a flirtation with Rafael only to make Senor +Bryton jealous. I heard it, though she did not know. Why should that be, +if it is only his brother's wife?" + +"Oh, God alone knows the heart of a woman, Raquel! It may be all a lie. +Our people do not understand the gringo women. They look love to so many +men, and mean it, perhaps, for none. But it was thought, yes, plainly +said, when she first came to Los Angeles, that Keith Bryton was the one +man she wanted to marry. But that is all over now; no one thinks--" + +"Teresa thinks." + +"Teresa had better be at her prayers! I could tell you something strange +of Keith Bryton,--only you are not interested in gringos,--something +of a love of his, and I feel sure it is never the pretty Dona Angela." + +"Tell me," said Raquel, coldly. + +[Illustration: AN INNER COURT.] + +"A man--a priest--learned it from him some way. I thought the Americanos +had no saints; but something like a love for a saint keeps Keith Bryton +from caring much for any one else. It is as if a woman, instead of a +wooden saint, should be in one of the niches of the old altar-place, and +he said prayers there. Whoever she is, she seems to be very far above +him--like the star he cannot reach." + +"The men who cannot reach the stars content themselves with picking +flowers, do they not?" + +"Oh, God alone knows how they content themselves! I only tell you this +thing to show you that Senor Bryton has not anywhere in the land a woman +to go to him if he were dying alone in the hills; his saint would not +step down from the niche of the altar-place." + +"Anita mia, you forget," she said, in a strange, mocking tone. "If Keith +Bryton is a friend of yours, you should wish him better fortune than to +kneel at a place like our old altar. Do you forget that of the eleven +niches still left in the old ruin, only one holds a saint,--a saint +where no one openly kneels,--that of the Maria Madalena?" + +"Raquel, what things you do fancy! Now that you know whom you may have +to meet, will you ride with me, or back to the road?" + +"Back to the plaza?" asked Dona Raquel. "Anita mia, all this has come to +me in the inner court of the aliso portal: it does not belong to the +outer world; neither do we, I think, to-night. Whatever the shadows of +the canyon cover for us, I think, we must ride upward to meet them. Your +friend's saint, the Madalena of the niche, will watch over us. When we +go back she shall have candles and roses--red ones, Anita!" + +Ana was voluble in her delight, and rode up the valley with a great load +lifted from her heart. + +But the witching spell of the aliso portal had lost its gay charm for +Raquel, or else it had sent her another more potent, for she rode in +silence under the stars, without gladness, yet so steadily, so +recklessly, that Ana more than once had to complain that only a deer or +a coyote could keep ahead of her. + +[Music: _Ella No Me Ama._] + + Ella vierte la copa de amargura + Gota, gota en mi pobre corozon. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + + +That same evening a gay party from the south rode along the sea to San +Juan Capistrano. Dona Maria and Don Eduardo rode in a carriage, but the +Dona Angela had received riding lessons from Rafael, and disdained now +the lounging ease of the cushioned seats. She and Rafael galloped far +ahead at times, and then loitered idly among the odorous grasses and +chaparral, and watched the waves roll in, and said the gay, foolish +things that sometimes mean only courtesy, and sometimes mean the ripples +of thought fringing pools of unsounded depths. There was little doubt of +the quality of Rafael's thought. Whatever it had been in the +commencement, there was little now within his power to accomplish which +he would not have done at the bidding of her smiling childish lips. + +"If we had a boat out there where the whitecaps are, we could go even +faster than the horses," she was saying. "I always wanted a boat; I +always wanted to live near the ocean, if only the right people could be +with me." + +"You shall have a boat, any day you want it," he said, eagerly. "They +make them at San Pedro; that is not far to send. A boat, and a house by +the sea! Why not wish for a more difficult thing? Would you like that +bluff above the river's mouth? Or Dana's Point, beyond there? You could +watch the whales spouting from the quay, and all the sea and valley +could be yours at a glance, and--" + +"And a fine view, also, of your monastery walls, far, far away, Don +Rafael." + +"I should never be far away, only as far as you bid me go." + +"Ah! that sounds very submissive," she replied; "but you are not really +so, not really. I--I want to say to you that my cousin's wife reproves +me for your--your--" + +Her hesitation was very pretty. It delighted the man, who caught her +hand and kissed it. + +"My--my--you can find no word, madama, for my madness; is that it?" he +asked, softly. "You are right; there are no words ever coined to cover +it. I make myself a carpet for your feet, mi corazon!" + +"I don't want a carpet for my feet,--at least I think I do not," she +said, doubtfully, "not in the face of all the frowns of California; and +we perhaps go to-day where we see many frowns from my cousin. She says +she may not visit your wife. Why?" + +"Perhaps she does not like a home where there are endless prayers," he +said, briefly; "but, such as it is, it is for you, madama. You would +light up even the shadows there. As for the Dona Maria, she is--ah, +well, she is old, and forgets many things. She has had her own romances, +and they should teach her charity! The plans she makes in San Diego and +on the road are all right for those places, but when we reach San Juan +you all go to my home. I sent word ahead." + +"Your wife expects us to-night?" + +"She does not know what night, or what day, but she will expect you." + +"She does not care at all for people, does she?" and Angela's eyes were +turned from him to the sea. "All this wonderful principality of a place, +and a home like a ruined castle, and the boxes of jewels they say she +never looks at! She must be a marvellous woman,--the Dona Raquel +Arteaga. I shall feel a little afraid, I think, of the magnificence she +disdains." + +"A finer castle will go up on those bluffs when you say the word, madama +mia; and the jewels--one can always find more pearls in the sea!" + +"How often shall I have to tell you that you must not make those foolish +promises to me? You, a married man!" + +"Just so often as you make me forget the marriage--and that--" + +"Adam!" she laughed. "Of course it is to be the woman's fault,--'She +tempted me!'" + +She sprang to her feet and ran to her horse as the carriage came in +sight over the mesa. He was by her side in an instant. + +"And that, madama, is every time I hear your voice, or look in your +eyes, or feel the touch of your hand! Ah, beloved!" + +"If you kiss me, Don Rafael, remember I cannot go to the house of your +wife!" + +He released her with a groan, and stared at her as she leaned panting +against her horse. + +"You put a man in purgatory, madama," he said, between shut teeth. "But +it must end--only Christ knows how! It must end one of these days." + +He lifted her to the saddle and kept his arms about her, looking up into +her face. + +"Was that about the boat all a jest? Once before you spoke of a +boat--and us two. Perhaps it was only your woman's way to torture a man +by helping him to think of that sort of heaven! But, after all, what is +all this life here to you? You care nothing for the people; you will go +away somewhere, some day, and no one will ever hear of you again. What +better way, after all, than the boat? It leaves no tracks; there would +be all the world before us." + +"Hush!" she said, with a little smile. "Who is now the tempter? You are +quite mad, Don Rafael." + +"God!" he muttered. "If I could only have the happiness of knowing it +_was_ a temptation to you!" + +She smiled again, and touched her horse with the quirt; and though he +caught his horse and mounted quickly, she was a considerable distance +ahead of him, and perversely insisted on keeping a wide space between +them, or else lagging beside the carriage for conversation with Dona +Maria, whom Rafael knew she loved little. + +For the rest of the ride there was no chance of a word alone with her. +Only as they turned from the beach to the river valley she checked her +horse for an instant, and with a little flash of a glance toward him, +she flung a kiss from the tips of her fingers to the bluffs above San +Juan River. + +"Adios, O castle of the air in which Love might have lived! Adios, O +boat of beautiful dreams, for which there is no harbor! Don Rafael, you +sing so well--could you not put the castle and the boat in a Spanish +song! It would sound pretty in a love-song, and it is much too romantic +for every-day life; for, after all, there is no harbor here." + +He devoured her with sombre eyes of desire, and a glint of rage showing +through their ardent depths. + +"There will be a harbor, madama mia," he muttered. "By the God and all +the saints, there will be a harbor here on the San Juan shore, and there +will be an embarcodera! And the boat will--will not be a boat in a song +or a dream, madama mia! I swear it, I swear it, I swear it!" + +He dug his spurs viciously into his mount to emphasize the words, and +the animal reared and plunged, and gave him a chance to vent his +feelings somewhat, while the Dona Angela tried to laugh, and failed. A +passion like that was a very masterful force, and there had been times +when she dared not treat it as a jest. + +The shrewd, red-faced ranchman, riding in the carriage beside his +swarthy wife, noted the little pantomime and nodded to Dona Maria. + +"It is as you say, dear. It is better that Don Rafael be with his own +wife. If anything should happen--" + +"If one thing should happen, we should be blamed; even the bishop might +blame us," said Dona Maria, fretfully. "She could marry with other men: +what white devil in her turns her to that mad Rafael? The Arteaga men +always have their own way. She should be married." + +Her husband grunted assent, and regarded the fair figure of his +kinswoman riding sedately along the green. She was such a fragile, +childlike creature, he thought of her as a little yellow canary, pretty +to see around the home after the many years lived among the dark people; +but he never was certain in the least that he knew her, and he was +beginning to consider some arrangement by which, for the good of the +doll-like child asleep on the carriage cushions, he could suggest that +she return to the land of the Briton and abide there--with, of course, a +comfortable little sum for maintenance. Don Eduardo was too much of a +politician not to see the wisdom of buying off embarrassing friends; the +Dona Angela in her amusements might prove not only embarrassing, but +dangerous. He had plans concerning certain Arteaga holdings, and could +not have even a charming woman enter into his scheme of things, if she +suggested discord. And watching Rafael Arteaga's face and the reckless +passion in it, Don Eduardo decided that his fair countrywoman not only +suggested discord, she was a living, breathing, alluring promise of it! + +A sunset in San Juan is truly worth crossing either a continent or an +ocean to witness, when the ranges toward La Paz are purple where the +sage-brush is, and rose-color where the rains have washed the steep +places to the clay, and over all of mesa and mountain the soft glory of +golden haze. All that radiance touched the land and sea as the carriage +of Don Eduardo, preceded by Rafael and Dona Angela, and followed by +Fernando and Juanita, who had been a guest of Dona Maria, and back of +all the rest the Indian servants and the nurse for the child on the +carriage cushion. Amid the shrill calls of greeting, and gay exchange of +words and laughter, the cavalcade passed the Casa Grande of Don Juan +Alvara, and drew up before the portal of the great white Mission. Rafael +lifted Angela Bryton from the saddle first of all, and then with his own +hand opened the door of the carriage for Dona Maria. + +"My house is your own, senora," he said, with the debonair grace so +charmingly his own. "I claim the privilege of carrying the child through +the door myself. Dona Raquel will be here on the instant, and--" + +[Illustration] + +[Music] + + Vengo a tu ventana + para decirte mi amore! + +The padre, pipe in mouth, had been watching the arrival from his own +door, but he drew nearer, and smiled grimly at Dona Maria as he +interrupted the young man. + +"Not quite on the instant, Don Rafael," he remarked. "The Dona Raquel is +well on her way to San Joaquin ranch with Dona Ana Mendez. They rode +good horses, and they started this evening, a few minutes before my own +return." + +The child in Rafael's arms uttered a little cry. He had suddenly gripped +her very tightly indeed, and a strange Spanish oath broke from his lips. +The priest smiled, and the florid face of Don Eduardo flushed angrily. + +"You--you sent Victorio Lopez--" he began, but Rafael gave him one +silencing look, and stepped forward, offering his hand to Dona Maria. + +"Will you honor my house by accepting it during your stay, senora?" he +asked, smilingly. "My wife has not received the message that you would +arrive this week. Sickness at the ranch, or some accident, has no doubt +called the Dona Ana there, and Raquel would not let her go alone. But +our house and my service are at your feet. Will you enter?" + +There was not a moment's hesitation on the part of Dona Maria. Let her +English husband feel as he might, she meant to enter the doors where +only the most exclusive had been entertained, since the day of the new +chatelaine had dawned. Raquel Estevan de Arteaga was too well bred to +make a scene when she returned and found them there, and Dona Maria had +too much of the blood of Mexican gamblers in her veins not to be willing +to take all chances when she wanted a thing very much. + +As to the fact that her host and her charmingly troublesome guest would +be thrown together even more than in the south, it did not trouble her +in the least. Even the bishop could not blame her for what occurred in +the house of Raquel Arteaga! Let that lady stay at home and guard her +own husband. And if she failed,--well, it might be well to have some of +that cold, Indian-like pride of hers lowered. + +The Dona Angela said nothing, only smiled a little, and pretended to +understand none of the Spanish spoken, but the padre, watching her wide +childish blue eyes, and her rosebud of a mouth, noticed also the one +quick birdlike glance she flung toward Rafael, and felt, like Dona +Maria, that the stubborn pride of Raquel Arteaga was at last to be +lowered a little. She had been as an eagle swimming in the blue above +all their heads, but this petite, golden-headed ladybird would sip more +of honey from the blossoms of life, and touch more closely an Arteaga! + +And when, after the very gay supper in the old refectory, Rafael brought +a mantilla for Dona Angela, that its lacy film might protect her from +the soft air of the starlight, the padre poured an extra glass of wine +for the Dona Maria, the Don Eduardo, and himself, and held them in +discussion. Fernando and Juanita and the other young people could go +along and show the Dona Angela how beautiful were the arches and +corridors after the sun was gone, but they, the older people, were +content with the shelter of adobe walls after the night fell. + +So they wandered forth, Fernando with a guitar, that the end of a +perfect day should be celebrated in love-songs; and as he protested that +they sounded better at a distance, he and Juanita strayed off into the +night. + +Dona Angela and Don Rafael, from a throne of sculptured stars and +circles, suns and crescents,--all the Aztec symbols of light,--listened +to the passion expressed in "El Tormento de Amor" floating down to them +from the tiled roof of the corridors, and later, when the doors were +closed on the girls for the night, those two still listened together to +the musical cadence of "Vengo a tu Ventana" sung under barred windows, +and to other harmonies never written in music, but known as a compelling +power to the tempestuous heart of the Mexican. Under the stars of that +night, the butterfly was made to feel that the beautiful tiger she had +at first paraded as a trophy was not to be laughed at,--never any more! +And even when the dawn broke, she lay wide-eyed behind the iron bars of +her window, wordless and frightened,--a magician who had raised a spirit +stronger than her power to subdue. What a trifle it had been at +first,--a mere flirtation for the sake of his handsome eyes, and now-- + +She told herself over and over that it was Keith Bryton's fault, and +that wooden Mexican woman's fault. Why had she barred her out and raised +the aggressive spirit in her? It was not in the beginning that she +really meant to take her husband. And why should Keith betray his +indifference in the way he did? It was so easy to show him that other +men were not indifferent. And oh, the awful dismal tragedy of it! To +think that by such a little, little chance she had missed being +legitimate queen over this most royal domain! + +[Illustration: "AFTER THE VERY GAY SUPPER"] + +But that other woman, the Mexican, would hold it all, always! Another +woman might win Rafael's smile and his love-songs, but the acres, the +herds, the coin, and the jewels (he had allowed Dona Maria to show the +latter to her guests that evening), all those things would be held +always in the slender strong hand of Raquel Arteaga--Raquel Arteaga, who +stood guard over even his soul, lest the heretics-- + +Then she smiled a little to herself, an involuntary smile of triumph. +Had he not said in the dusk of the corridor last night that his soul was +at her feet? With that battle won from the intolerant Mexican girl, were +the jewels and the coin out of reach? Had he not said a boat left no +track on the ocean,--the boat he had sworn to find a harbor for,--sworn +to? + +Of course it was only a fleeting fancy, but it drifted across her brain +as a sort of solace for her fretful, feverish rebellings against the +uneven division of things, and it served its purpose, for she was at +last lulled into slumber by the dream, though of course it was only a +dream. + +But dreams, when dreamed by two, suggest such alluring possibilities! + +[Music: _Mi Corazon de Fuego_] + + Mujer! Mujer! Mi corazon de fuego, + Te adore con delirio y con ternura, + Porque eres bella angelical criatura, + Como los flores que adoran a' Dios; + + Lejos de ti no me importa la existencia + El mundo todo y sus mentidas glorias. + Lejos de ti la vida es ilusoria, + Porque tu eres mi vida, + Tu eres mi amada, + Tu eres mi Dios! + +[Music] + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + + +It was two days later, before the sun was high, that Raquel Arteaga rode +into the plaza, and, slipping from her horse, walked directly into the +little private chapel and closed the door. From the other wing of the +corridor Dona Maria and Dona Angela saw her, and exchanged startled +glances. Their hostess had arrived, and had not even cast her eyes in +their direction. They were both relieved when Rafael and Senor Downing +emerged from the portal of the patio. + +"Ah, she has arrived--my wife," remarked Rafael as he noticed her +saddle-horse nibbling at the geraniums. "I sent an Indian messenger this +morning. He has been quick; and, Santa Maria! so has she. Look at the +horse!" + +The animal was dripping, and as an Indian boy removed the saddle the +water ran down his sides and made little pools in the dust. + +"That will do him good," said Rafael. "Rub him well, and he will look +like black satin. And the Dona Raquel is--" + +"Your wife went to her own chapel; she saw no one," observed Dona Maria. +"I should go in, but if she is at prayers--" + +[Illustration: "THEIR HOSTESS HAD ARRIVED"] + +If she had been, her prayers were ended, for as they spoke she opened +the door and came out on the corridor. She was more pale than Rafael had +ever seen her, and without greeting to anyone, she spoke. + +"Rafael, two men have been hurt in the mountain, a priest and--the +American who was missing from the vigilantes. I think--I understand that +he saved the life of the padre--and both were hurt, and--they are +bringing him here." + +"The American? You mean Keith Bryton?" + +"Yes, I mean Keith Bryton," she said, steadily. "I rode ahead. Ana is +coming with them; she thinks he is very ill--and the padre also was +hurt--and--" + +"Keith!" cried Dona Angela, sharply. "He is hurt--and coming +here--_here_?" + +"There was no place else to send them," said Raquel, quietly. "There has +always been room in the Mission for the sick or wounded--and in this +case--" + +"That is right," exclaimed Rafael, with nervous approval; "that is all +right. Where should Senor Bryton go but where his friends are? This +is his sister, Senora Bryton. It is well she is here; sick men need +their own women folks about them. Raquelita, thou art white as the +lilies in the garden! Get you some wine while I see to beds for the +sick. It was lucky you and Ana chanced to meet them. When did Tomas +reach you with the letter?" + +She did not reply. Dona Maria was also asking questions, and telling her +the Padre Andros had gone again to San Luis Rey for a week, and the +three women entered the dining-room, leaving Rafael's question +unanswered. He supposed that Raquel and Ana had ridden south at his +bidding, and was elated that she had received the Dona Maria and her +guest as she had--without gladness, of course, but without signs of +displeasure. He divined there was a white devil of rage under her calm +exterior, but that made no difference so long as she showed no outward +sign of it. Evidently she had accepted the fact that he meant to be +master; after that, life would be easier in Capistrano. He had always +been a bit resentful of Keith Bryton's attitude toward himself. Never +since that dictatorial letter to San Pedro had he felt easy with him, +and there was no doubt whatever that Bryton had avoided him since his +marriage. But he forgot all that in the satisfaction of the news Raquel +brought. + +With Bryton ill in the house, there was every reason why the one woman +of his family should remain under the same roof indefinitely. It would +mean the breaking down of barriers against heretic invaders, and so well +content was Rafael over all this that he meant to nurse Keith Bryton as +the most valuable friend the fates could send him. Elated with this +idea, he called Don Eduardo, and together they rode out to meet them, +and at sight of them wondered that even Raquel's cool exterior had not +been more ruffled at the situation: she had given them no idea of what +to expect. + +"Your wife, in the cause of humanity, will allow dying space for a +heretic," observed Don Eduardo, dryly, "but she evidently thinks them +worth little attention. The man looks worse than she led us to think. We +should have brought Indios and a litter to meet them." + +Keith Bryton, with his head bound up so as to be almost unrecognizable, +was tied on his horse and supported by the left arm of a bearded priest +who rode on one side; while Dona Ana rode on the other, white-faced and +tremulous, as she recognized the two men approaching. + +"For the love of God, be cautious--cautious!" she whispered to the +priest. And the latter drew the hood of his habit lower over his brows, +to shut out the sun. + +"Softly, Anita mia! From this moment I am under a vow of silence. This +heretic and I have come out of the shadow of death together, he with a +broken head and I with a broken arm. You can send your friends to see +where three men are still unburied in the Trabuco hills. I ask of the +Mission only time for silent meditation until my preserver, here, is +better--or dead. I leave the words of it to you. From the moment help +comes I have vowed silence. Come, come, Anita, girl. When we have +blinded a woman like Raquel Arteaga for two days and nights, we need +fear no eyes of men." + +And it was so. The condition of the two men was warrant of Ana's recital +that three refugees of Flores's bandits had assaulted the priest, with +the idea that he was of the vigilantes. When the Americano, by some +chance, had taken a short cut across the ranges, and, hearing shots, had +gone to the rescue, he found one man with a broken arm keeping his +enemies at a distance with one of their own guns. He had stumbled on +their camp while they slept. For the rest, Ana asked Rafael to send some +one to bury the three bodies. They were too near the trail to be left +like that, and would frighten horses when one rode that way. + +Of the padre, who, relieved of his burden, had quietly fallen in the +rear, Dona Ana told that he was a travelling monk from Mexico, who had +been entertained at the San Joaquin ranch, and had assisted the Don +Keith to quell a crazy uprising there. He was under a vow of silence +from the moment God sent help; and--and of course there was room for him +at the Mission, not with the crusty old Padre Andros, but if Rafael and +Raquel would allow him a private corner, undisturbed! He did not appear +to be the sort of man for Padre Andros's game-cocks and monte games. + +Rafael, glancing at the sallow, bearded face under the monk's hood, +decided that she was right. The padre looked like a man given to vigils +and fasts, one living the life of renunciation such as one heard of from +the older records of the valley, before the secular priests had been let +loose upon the land to fatten, while the parish drifted from faith. + +"Padre Andros has been called to San Luis Rey; it will be a week until +he returns. This man--what is his name? Libertad? That is very Mexican. +Well, the Mission is his; he can pray where he chooses. God send he +prays Don Keith well again. Santa Maria! but he has a fever! Does he +know one?" + +Ana shook her head. He certainly did not know her, and he did not know +the padre, and she felt a hesitation in telling him that the only one +whose voice or hand quieted the occasional ravings of the American was +that of his own wife. If she had done so, Rafael would have only thought +it a great joke on Raquel, who avoided heretics. All the hours of the +days and nights in the hills, Raquel Arteaga had moved like a woman in a +dream, walking alone when she was not praying beside Keith Bryton's +couch of pine boughs. While Ana slept the sleep of exhaustion that first +night, the silent priest had gone again and again to see Bryton and hear +if there was aught to do, and each time that girl was crouching there, +white-faced as a spirit in the light of the waning moon, while the man +on the couch moaned "Espiritu! Dona Espiritu mia!" + +That was the one moan he had made since the fever had struck him, and +there had been no way of quieting him. But that night, when the moans +grew into cries, the silent priest saw the girl listen until she could +bear it no longer, and then she went closer to him and knelt there, her +hands clasped tightly behind her, and in them the golden beads of a +rosary shone against her black dress. + +"I am here, close beside you," she said, lowly, "always beside you in +spirit--always!" + +"Espiritu mia!" he muttered, and then with a great sigh of relief sank +into slumber. + +The priest watched the girl to see what manner of woman might be this +daughter of a nun, whose father had been the gay, lawless, debonair +Felipe Estevan, of whom wild stories had been told in the old days. When +had he ever resisted a love appealing? The man watching her knew the +girls of Mexican California too well to doubt what the result would be: +the lover first, and the rosary and the prayers afterwards. + +But the night waned, and the pale moon, facing the morning star, saw her +still crouching there against the tree trunk. Ana thought she slept, but +her husband's enemy, who had watched her through the night, knew better. +He drew Ana aside, and gave her warning. + +"Tell Felipe Estevan's daughter nothing. I am the priest; that is all. +She is not the woman to think this justified," and he touched the monk's +robe. "This night I heard her prayers when she thought no one listened; +and, Anita, girl, forget all crazy things I said about Rafael's wife +helping me to revenge." + +"You said nothing about Rafael's wife," and Ana faced him with startled +eyes. "You said--what was it you said? Oh, that Keith Bryton should +help you--Keith Bryton, and his love for a woman who was a saint." + +As she spoke, the full meaning of his words burst upon her, and she +uttered a low cry of dismay. + +"Barto! Holy God!--_Barto_!" she whispered. + +But he caught her wrist, and his voice had a note of command in it. + +"Silence! She may hear you. Forget the fool things I said there at the +San Joaquin ranch. I thought I knew something of Keith Bryton, but I was +mistaken. I thought I knew much of woman, but one girl at her prayers +last night changed all that. We will nurse him well again, if your +friends do not murder me, and then I will get him away. Some day when +you and I have left all this behind us, I may tell you what I thought I +knew, but not now." + +"But Raquel--" + +"Raquel will always be first of all the wife of Rafael Arteaga; after +that she may show kindness to other human things, even the heretics. But +this one heretic we will take the care of off her hands all that we can, +Anita. She is not the girl to drag into a man's schemes of revenge." + +"I think she bewitches you each time she comes near you," flashed Ana, +resentfully. "On all other things you talk to me sense, but when it is +Raquel, my one friend, you talk riddles always, and you make me feel as +if I were walking beside her in the dark or blindfold. What is it you +mean? That Bryton thinks of her? How could that be, when they have not +met? She thought until last night that he was married, so little +interest in him has she. How do you get such crazy things in your head?" + +"That is true. I find they are crazy things; I confess it to you, and +ask you to give no heed to my mistakes." + +"It was a mistake, then, that he cared?" persisted Ana. "You were so +sure--" + +"It was another woman," broke in the priest, curtly. "Oh yes, there was +a woman; but I was the fool when I thought I knew who the woman was; +that is all." + +"And Raquel is not--" + +"Raquel Estevan de Arteaga is a woman men should cross themselves when +they mention," he said, quietly. "She has a strength in her that is of +God or the devil; she brings it from her Indian hills of Mexico, and I +for one will be on the safe side and treat it with respect." + +"She has bewitched you, that is all," declared Ana; but the man in the +priest's robe drew her behind a giant aliso tree and kissed her on the +mouth. + +"Perhaps so," he agreed; "but, my Anita, it is only enough to make me +pity the man she would bewitch in a different way. God! If he knew that +she cared like that, his life would be a hell." + +"Why not a heaven?" asked Ana, turning to the care of the breakfast. +"Raquel spoke beautifully of a love like that last night,--a love in the +inner court of life, in sanctuary, where only one other soul could kneel +beside one; it was a love spiritual only." + +"Only!" said the man, glancing toward the girlish figure in the serape +curled against the white bark of the tree. "Only! Anita, girl, let us +get the breakfast and leave love to people who have not a price set +against their heads. As for that love of the inner court of life, the +sanctuary, Raquel still dreams the dreams of a nun. Men and women of +California are of flesh and blood, and they do not love in that way." + +[Music: _La Tempestad_.] + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + + +Three days later, Keith Bryton opened his eyes within the white walls of +a little room in the Mission. The wooden shutters of the barred window +were open, and all was still. A meadow-lark called somewhere without, +and he could hear down the valley the beat of the surf against the +cliffs. A bearded priest sat in the window reading a book, and a woman +coming from the dining-room, through the quaint old Moorish doorway +stopped suddenly with a quick-caught breath of fear as his eyes opened +at the rustle of her dress, and he smiled at her with a great sigh of +relief. + +"Dona Espiritu!" he murmured. "I knew you would come if I waited. Such a +bad dream has been with me! I thought I was back in California, and +you--ah! there were higher barriers around you than the convent walls, +and--" + +Dona Raquel stood motionless, with the little earthen olla of spring +water in her two hands. Her face grew white, and she glanced at the man +in the window-seat. He raised a finger of warning to his lips, and arose +and came forward. + +"You must not talk, Don Keith," he said, quietly. "One cup of water, +since the lady brings it to you, and then to sleep again. Sleep is +best." + +"You were of the dream, too," muttered Bryton, fretfully, "the bad +dream. Espiritu mia! tell me it is not true. I cannot think; my head--" + +"Tell him, Dona Espiritu," said the man with the book. Then he gave her +a glance of warning and touched his temple significantly. She crossed +the room and placed the water beside him. + +"What shall I tell you, Don Keith?" she asked, softly. "I am sorry you +have been so ill and the bad dreams have come. This is Padre Libertad; +he has nursed you very well. We must all obey him and let you sleep." + +"But not to dream again," he protested. "Be kind, as you were in the +hills of the temple,--give me your hand again,--then I will sleep +without the hell of dreams." + +At the command of the padre, she obeyed, and he took her one hand in +both of his and drew it across his lips. A shudder passed over her at +his touch, and she rested her other hand against the whitewashed wall +for support. + +"Courage, my daughter," said the man with the book, gently; and the man +on the bed looked at him and smiled. + +"Courage?" he said. "You should have seen her when she faced that mob of +Indians and saved us. We had not meant to spy on their ceremonies, and +we paid dearly for getting lost in the wilderness. Still, it was worth +it, Dona mia! It was worth going through it all, even the hell of +dreams, to find you again like this, and your hand in mine." + +She did not speak, only turned imploring eyes on the padre. + +"You need not mind him," continued Bryton. "I like him better than the +old padre, and he shall marry us when I come back. Now I can go to +sleep." + +He held her hand in his, and when she tried to draw it away, he smiled +with closed eyes, and whispered, "You remember how we watched all the +stars cross the sky? And then the morning star, the star of the Holy +Spirit, that was yours, Dona mia; and then--then--you remember all--all +of our one night?" + +"All of it--always!" + +He smiled with his eyes still closed, and released her hand, and did not +see her as she swayed toward the door and was caught in the strong arms +of the man she called Padre Libertad. When she knew where she was again, +she found her face and hair wet with cold water, and all the women about +with cordials and cures. + +"It is a fever; she will get it next," prophesied Dona Maria. "A woman +who neither eats nor sleeps gets ready for the graveyard." + +But Raquel waved aside all their cures and sent for Padre Libertad. + +"You broke your vow of silence there just now for him," she said, +abruptly. "Break it now for me. You know?" + +"God help you, Raquel Estevan! I know. No one else ever shall, and +whatever you want done shall be done." + +"God help me, indeed!" Raquel moaned. "To the soul of Rafael I am bound +all the days of my life. I want nothing done. I dare want nothing." + + * * * * * + +Raquel went no more into the room where Keith Bryton awoke to a hold on +life and reason,--that was the one thing perplexing to the man in the +priest's gown; and not even Ana was allowed to hear the constant +demands for Dona Espiritu, or the girl of the temple, or the lady who +had led him out of the wilderness under the light of the morning star! +All those things would have seemed like maddest ravings to any but Padre +Libertad, who carefully excluded all visitors from the room, despite the +protests of Dona Angela, who claimed the privilege of relationship,--a +claim denied by a shake of the head of the silent, book-reading padre. + +Raquel moved almost as silently about the corridors of the Mission, +serene, quiet, and busy, always busy with the entertainment of her +numerous guests. The people of the country rode on any pretext to San +Juan in those days, to meet the Downings and talk by the hour in the +cool shadows of the patio concerning the tragedies of the bandits. The +beautiful old Mission town had gained a new sort of fame through them. + +Rafael arranged barbecues and picnics to the canyons, where the wild-rose +thickets were yet odorous with bloom. Even a dance was arranged by some +of the gentlemen in the old wing of the Mission, called the travellers' +room,--a Spanish dance at which only those wearing the old Spanish +costumes dared keep time to the music, and the Mexican serape was +discarded for the velvet cloak or cape of grander days. + +[Illustration: "AND--HE WAS AN ATEAGA!"] + +The younger men rode fifty miles for costumes. Don Juan Alvara, who +still wore knee-breeches, stockings, and buckled shoes, had promised to +go to bed earlier that night because of the demand on his wardrobe. +Raquel delved in old chests of Dona Luisa Arteaga's belongings, and +brought out treasures of embroideries and brocades enough to turn the +heart of Angela Bryton bitter with envy. She knew Raquel would look a +barbaric queen in the jewelled bodices where topazes formed the hearts +of yellow roses, or real pearl-embroidered lilies, and in laces--laces +to wrap her like a mummy, leaving only those great violet eyes of hers +visible to gaze in that serene haughty way at one, and through one! + +But once having been forced by circumstances to take the hand of a guest +in hers, Raquel Arteaga raised no material barriers to hospitality. + +"They are at your pleasure, Senora Bryton," she said, graciously. "After +you have selected what you would like, Carmella and Juanita may care for +some of them. The white brocade of the lilies would become you. There is +a white mantilla of lace to go with it, and pearls--plenty of pearls." + +Dona Maria and Teresa Arteaga exchanged glances. They had never objected +to the favorites of their husbands,--no good wife did,--but even the +most devoted of Mexican wives had never opened her jewel-box for her +rival. + +However, they decided in confidence that Raquel had appeared strange and +indifferent since the day of the fainting spell. She was more kind and +gentle, if anything, to Rafael himself, even tender in little cares for +his comfort, as his own mother might have been. But beyond the tender, +conciliating, half-maternal attitude toward her husband, she walked as +in a dream of indifference toward the rest of the world. Full of care as +a hostess, she yet spent no moment alone with any guest except the +silent padre, who paced the corridors, his eyes on a book, and always on +guard at the door of the American, who had almost given his life that an +unknown priest might live. + +Rafael himself did not understand Raquel's gentle, devoted attitude. +Once, as he smoked in the corridor facing the sea and commented aloud on +the charms of a pretty girl who crossed the plaza, some man, standing +there, took up the subject and spoke of his wife--Rafael's--and the +lucky fellow he was to get her,--that girl of the South with her +strange, alluring beauty not to be defined, but so surely felt by all +who had the happiness to meet her. As Rafael listened, he, for a moment, +felt again a delight in the barbaric sense of possession of her. It was +true; she was of strange beauty, and he knew every man envied him. The +thought of it brought back the remembrance of the fitful passion she had +aroused in him there in Mexico, where the bars of the convent had made +more keen his desire for victory. Some echo of that fitful passion sent +him from the man in the plaza to the door of her room. It was not love; +but she was his, and--he was an Arteaga! + +The shadowy room was lit by the soft glow of candles on the altar of the +Virgin. She had knelt there until some wave of feeling swept over her, +leaving her prostrate at the feet of the serene, tender, changeless +Mother of Sorrows. For a moment he halted, but the brandy he had been +drinking was of the best. The Dona Angela had gone bathing with the +others on the beach, while he had been kept in the town by some +business, and a man must console himself. He remembered that he had won +this girl, whom others found beautiful, from one altar there in the +South; it gave a certain zest to his present determination. A woman +could pray at any time; but just now--well, she should remember she was +his! + +What he said he did not clearly remember afterwards; but he was strong, +and he had been silent, and she was gathered in his arms and lifted to +her feet, and he was seeking her lips with his, when, with a cry that +was terrible in its smothered rage, she wrenched herself free and darted +to the table where the jewel-box lay open, and on the top of strings of +pearls shone the glittering steel of a dagger. What she said to him +turned him, sullen and cowed, toward the door. But there she stopped +him. + +"Your child, and the mother of it there in the willows, are my care, +Rafael Arteaga, as they would have been the care of your mother, had she +lived. I have sworn to that dying mother to live beside you, and guard +you from what harm I can, but if you still take your marriage vows to +the willows, you put aside the sacrament of your marriage to me. Never +again, while you choose to live like that, must you cross to me where +this altar is. I guard your soul for your mother, but by the Virgin, and +by this cross on the dagger, I will send you to account there where she +is, if you come to me like that again! I give my life to keep my vow; +but if you drive me to it, my soul may yet have to pay in the other life +for the loss of your own!" + +As he stumbled out of the door he met the Padre Libertad pacing the +corridor, as usual, with his book. He did not lift his eyes or speak, +and Rafael passed on sullenly, muttering an oath: each way he turned in +the Mission he met an altar or a priest! + +Ana, coming through the portal of the inner court, met him there, and +heard the oath, and was filled with fear of a discovery so appalling +that her woman's wit left her, and she blundered and caught his arm and +questioned. + +"But, Rafael, he has done nothing. That he was at the door of Raquel is +not--" + +"Sure, it is not," he agreed, scoffingly. "But when a man has a wife of +his own,--even Raquel Estevan de Arteaga,--he does not want a black gown +and a monk's cowl forever as her shadow." + +They were outside the window of Keith Bryton, and the words reached the +ears of the man on the bed there, and brought him reeling but determined +to his feet. + +It was the first word reaching him by which he could grasp at the +reality of the life about him; all the vague dreams were dashed aside by +that name, "Raquel Estevan de Arteaga." It cleared the visions of the +fever his nurse had feared to dispel too quickly, and in one staggering +flash he saw the truth: the "dream" of the California life was no dream, +it was the real life to be met and fought again. Where was he, that the +voice of Rafael Arteaga dared ring with such imperious directions? He +reached the barred window dizzily and leaned his head against the high +ledge. The world whirled about him for a moment, and when it stopped +and stood still, he again heard the voice of Rafael, irritated this time +into more intolerant speech by some eager protest of Ana. + +"Oh, ho! That is the man, is it? And he saved her from Juan Flores that +night? That is news--God curse him!" + +"Rafael!" and the woman's voice was full of horror. "You are crazy with +brandy; you do not know how you speak. Go to your bed and sleep. That +man saved your name and your wife from disgrace, and you have only +curses for him in your mouth!" + +"Basta! He may win seven heavens for aught I care. But, name of God! +sing no praises of him for saving Raquel Estevan for me! She is not a +woman, Anita! Never a woman for a man who wants a wife. By God, I think +she is the devil turned saint; and the man who carries her to the hills +is my friend and earns a herd of horses!" + +"Santa Maria! You are mad over that other woman, Rafael Arteaga. Every +one sees it but Raquel; and when she does see it--" + +"She! she sees nothing but her saints on the altar! She has only the +heart of a nun in that white breast of hers. Don't you put your devil of +a tongue in this business, Ana Mendez, or--" + +"You are drunk, Rafael," said Ana, untouched by the personal remark. +"You are drunk. Go to bed." + +No other words came to the ears of Keith Bryton. He heard the departing +steps, and the rustle of Ana's silken gown on the tiling, and then +someway he found himself back in the bed, with all the cobwebs cleared +from his brain. He knew where he was now--in a room of the Mission, +where he had not dared set a foot since the day when he heard her vow +made to the dying woman. He was in her home, then, the home of her +husband. And that silent padre who had shielded him from knowing +it--what did his devoted guardianship mean? What did it mean that he had +approved that once she had come there and stood by the bed with her +hands in his? That she had listened to his words, and---- Or was that +also a fancy born of the fever? + +But when the silent padre came in and closed the door, and heard the +direct rapid questions, the replies were just as direct. Padre Libertad +observed that the shock of the truth had come, and there was no reason +for further illusion. The American was weak, but alert to all the padre +told him; and he told him all the truth. + +"So you see, Senor Bryton, you saved my life, and there is a good price +set against it. I am here in the home of my cousin, who will make a +fiesta of the day I am hung or shot. You know it, and the girl I love +knows it. It has been a good place to hide: they think me in Mexico. I +start there to-night, unless you--" + +"Wait: to-morrow I can perhaps go with you. God! To think I have been +helpless here in his home!" + +The other man said nothing, only watched him with the dark velvety eyes +full now of the spirit of comradeship. + +"It is strange it should be you I trust," he said, at last. "I remember +days when I planned which way I would have you killed when my men found +you. You saved the government their horses last year. I shot at you once +as you rode from Santa Ana ranch." + +"Was that you?" observed the other. "Yes, I remember." Then, after +another silence, he asked with careful indifference: + +"Dona Raquel Arteaga--she was in here, and I said things I--well--you +heard! Does she know the truth about you?" + +"Not even does she suspect. No one here has ever seen me since this +beard is over my face. I pass the men on the plaza who hunted me with +hounds and guns to the water's edge a year ago, and they bow their +heads and lower their voices not to disturb my devotions. Madre de Dios! +it has been great sport, but for the thought of--of a woman whose heart +has been shown to me as a priest! The thing I have done is a sacrilege, +and Father Andros would scorch me well for it--but I would rather burn +than have her ever know the truth--I who am the lover of another woman!" + +Keith Bryton reached out his hand to the outlaw, and there were no more +words spoken between them of the matter. + +Later Dona Angela returned, and hearing from Ana that Bryton was again +conscious of his whereabouts, insisted on seeing him; and this time the +silent padre of the prayers offered no protest, only sat in the +window-seat, and did not lift his eyes, and listened. + +"I've been wild--just that, Keith, ever since they brought you back. +Who? oh, Dona Raquel and Ana, and, of course, the padre. My! You looked +awful. I'm glad you are better. There is to be a really great Spanish +dance, and I should have hated to go unless you were out of danger. They +would not allow me inside this door before, and I--Keith, there are a +thousand things I want to say to you, and--" + +The priest arose and made a quiet movement toward the door. The +interview was evidently terminated. Keith had not had a chance to say +anything, and Dona Angela whisked out of the room in a temper. She +sought Rafael, but could not find him, for the reason that he had taken +Ana's advice and tumbled into bed. She finally found Ana and Raquel in +the dining-room, and smiled tolerantly at the fact that the latter, +covered with a great apron of linen, was attending personally to the +moulding of candles, and not a servant, not even Ana, was allowed to +help. + +The days of Dona Angela's stay had brought her face to face with many +self-satisfying little scenes of that sort. Remembering that first +meeting of the two as strangers, it was comforting to Angela to be able +to look down in some way on the wife of Rafael Arteaga; and since she +chose to make of herself a servant---- It seemed so incredible to the +woman who had never, never, had all she wanted of luxury, that this +other girl, young, and many said handsome, had not the natural woman's +vanity for decking herself with the gorgeous things stacked in those old +chests. To her it seemed a warrant to Rafael to seek companionship +elsewhere. A woman who could claim a throne lessened her value by +stooping to the cares of the kitchen. It argued low tastes; it +emphasized the uneven division of things. It was a constant reminder to +Angela Bryton that she, the woman who appreciated it all, who would have +held a half-regal Court of Love in the old walls where only endless +prayers were whispered,--she was the woman to whom it should belong by +right. For her, Rafael Arteaga would have spread carpets of velvet on +the tiled floors and cast himself, happy, at her feet. + +All these thoughts had given her a sort of insolent courage to comment +on the girl who trod the Mission-made bricks, and whose eyes looked out +so often over one's head. + +"Of all the Indian servants, have you none trained in so laborious a +task as this?" she asked, sinking into one of the rawhide-seated chairs +at the table. "It is horrid work. I wonder you spoil your hands." + +Ana flashed a glance of resentment at the languid blossom of a woman, +always a shimmer of lacy ruffles, a picture of alluring, half-childish +helplessness. It was for such a white kitten Rafael was losing all his +sense. + +"I should be proud to use my hands for the same work, instead of this +endless embroidery," she observed; "but Dona Raquel will not hear of +it." + +"To mould the candles for the altar, each woman of each house should +make her own," returned Raquel, quietly. "You have not that custom in +your land--no?" + +"Certainly not. We are not taught that extra pounds of beef tallow will +help to save our souls if burned in silver holders." + +"No? What, then, does it take to save souls in your country?" + +"Those who come here leave their souls at home for safe-keeping," +declared Ana, thrusting her needle viciously into the embroideries of +lawn; "they only bring their long purses to be filled." + +For one moment the snapping black eyes of Ana met the childish blue ones +of Angela and carried in their glance an accusation and understanding. +Angela's pretty teeth closed with a vicious click under her red lips, +then she shrugged her dimpled shoulders, and laughed. + +"Oh, you see of course only the merchants here," she conceded, "the +people who buy hides, and tallow, and herds of horses." + +Then she turned again to Raquel, who had seen some of the little byplay. + +"And those candles of purest white, packed in scented cotton, for what +especial purpose are they reserved?" + +"They are the candles for the dead." + +Angela shuddered, as with a passing chill. + +"How constantly you people keep before you remembrance of the tomb!" +she exclaimed. "One needs to get out in the sun often to remember that +the old Mission is not really a vault." + +"It is," said Ana; "there are padres of the old days buried under some +of the floors." + +"How perfectly horrid! And you make all those dozens of immaculate +candles to be used for whoever comes first," she continued, addressing +herself to Raquel, with a slight smile of disdain as at a childish +pastime; "and they are all duly blessed, I suppose, and duly insured to +light the souls from the path of the inferno." + +For the first time Raquel perceived the touch of malice under the +smiling query. + +"You are right," she said, quietly; "those are of the first I ever made +with my own hands here in San Juan Capistrano. Padre Sanchez bestowed on +them his blessing, and the thought of so holy a man is in itself a +blessing." + +"But think," persisted the soft little malicious tones, "is it not often +the story of the pearls and the swine? Any sodden drunken Indian beast +is likely to be laid in state with those emblems of purity burning in +his honor." + +Raquel paused with the last handful of them, and the violet eyes, dark +with indignation, met the blue ones. + +"That is true," she said, coldly. "We are taught that souls are all +alike before God. These in my hand may be lit for any one--for a sodden +beast that dies in sin, for a murderer, for me perhaps, or it may be +they burn even for you, senora!" + +"Ugh! how ghastly!" The blue eyes wavered, and she arose with a little +shiver. "But I don't think I would want them, really," she added, as she +was leaving the room, "any more than I would want masses said if I +should go under a breaker some day when bathing, and never come up +again. The fashion of the living praying for the dead seems a bit +incongruous and amusing. Save the candles for those of the faith, Dona +Raquel." + +Her little mocking laugh made more pointed her intention of ridicule. +The face of Raquel was still and expressionless, as she slowly placed +the last of the candles in the perfumed box and closed the lid. Ana +flung down her embroidery, and said to Raquel, with blazing eyes: + +"Raquelita! Some day I shall choke that pretty little white devil, you +will see! How and why we endure her mocking I don't know. That she is of +Keith Bryton's family is something, but it is not enough. When he is +able I shall tell him some things--I shall tell Don Eduardo things! She +makes a mock of our women, and I keep quiet; she makes her love to your +husband, and I say nothing; but, Raquel, she makes mockery of your +religion in your own house. Can you stand that too?" + +Raquel put her hands over her eyes an instant in a tired way. + +"Quiet, you, Anita mia," she said after a little. "Words are not so much +use. They will go away soon now--after the dance to-morrow night. And I +do not think it is true of Rafael. He is her caballero, as he would be +yours or Juanita's; that is all. There is that other woman in the +willows. She--" + +"Raquelita, how little you know men! Pretty Marta by the river is only a +servant; but our men go mad for these white women of blue eyes--mad!" + +"A few days more, and that will be forgotten as he would forget the +brown girls. Have patience. At least, she will not mock our religion to +him; and the rest--it is only one day and two nights more, Anita, and +you will help me." + +"At least you will find a way to keep those pearls from her," insisted +Ana, stubbornly. "How could you offer them to her? Oh, I could have +screamed at you!" + +"The pearls are but a trifle to let go for a night, dear. Help me with +the candles to the altar-place. Oh, yes, she may have the pearls." + +[Music] + + Porque tu eres mi vida, + Tu eres mia mada, + Tu eres mi Dios! + + + + +CHAPTER XX + + +Angela Bryton sought until she found Rafael asleep in a corner of the +travellers' room. + +"Ana Mendez knows; she has told your wife," she said, abruptly. "Two +nights and a day we have; that is all. Raquel says I am not more to you +than a brown girl in the willows. You make her pay for that!" + +"Pay?" He rubbed the sleep of the brandy from his eyes and sat up, then +caught her to him in the instinct of possession. + +Quickly she drew aside and eluded him. + +"Not yet," she said, with the glint of steel in her eyes. "Not until you +make her pride pay, Rafael mio! She tosses a string of pearls to me as a +queen would to a waiting-maid, to show how trifling a thing it is to +her. One string! Rafael, where now is that boat?" + +"The boat?" He stumbled to his feet and stared at her. + +"The boat! You said it. Not even my hand shall you touch until it is in +the harbor. Cousin Eduardo and Keith Bryton will send me away when she +tells them; they will never let you see me again." + +"Huh!" He flung back his head contemptuously. He had never quite gotten +away from Teresa's conviction that Keith Bryton's impatience with Angela +was born of jealousy. So it was Keith Bryton again! + +"He gets you when he has killed me, not sooner," he muttered. "And they +all know, eh? How is that?" + +"Perhaps not, but they will. It is that Mendez woman and your wife! I +will _not_ be sent like a pauper back to England! Cousin Edward spoke +yesterday of that; of an allowance for Dolly and me. Now I know what it +means! If I go, I will go in a manner they don't dream of,--alone in +that boat! You can join me anywhere you say, on the coast. How you +stare! It is not so difficult, and there will never, never, never be any +other way we can be together." + +"That is true; we will go." + +"You want all the coin; you want the jewels; you want--" + +"I want only you," he said. + +"If you want me, you must give me what I ask. Those women must not--" + +"To hell with the women! We will go, and no one need guess we have gone +together. I will send Victorio with a letter to San Pedro for a boat. +Your lips for that promise!" + +"When the boat is in the harbor, and the jewels in my hand, Rafael," she +replied, and darted like a bird through the door, and out into the +garden. Later she came into the refectory with an armful of +lilies,--symbols of innocence,--and asked Ana for an olla for them, and +was very demure and sweetly appealing for the rest of the day. + +[Illustration: "EACH WAY HE TURNED HE MET AN ALTAR OR A PRIEST"] + +[Music: _La Noche esta Serena_.] + + La noche 'sta serena, tranquillo el aquilon, + Tu dulce sentinella, te guarda il corazon, + Y en alas de los zefiros, + que vagan por doquier, + Volando van mis suplicas, a ti bella mujer, + Volando van mis suplicas, a ti bella mujer! + + De un corazon que te ama, recibe el tier no amor, + No anmentes mas la llama, Piedad a un trobadour, + Y si te mueve a lastima, + Mi eterno padecer, + Como te amo amame, bellisima mujer, + Como te amo amame, bellisima mujer! + +[Music] + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + + +What Padre Libertad saw or heard he did not particularize. But when +Keith Bryton, the day of the Spanish dance, had arisen and dressed, and +talked a little with all those known to him in the Mission, except the +mistress of it, the bearded priest closed the door on them all, and came +and sat beside him. + +"To-morrow, my friend, we go," he said. + +"Can I--will she speak to me--once?" + +"What is there to say to a woman like that? God! To think that such a +one should be Rafael Arteaga's wife!" + +"No," agreed the other; "there is nothing to be said. Only I would like +to see her face once, even though she should not know it. Could that +be?" + +"It is not wise; it sends you away with more of a heartache; but there +is one place she goes each evening as the stars come out. There is one +saint left in one niche of the old ruin. Since she rode with us from +the hills, flowers are always there, and she goes from her own chapel +there--to pray, perhaps. She has not said so, but--" + +"I can see her there. Will you--will you try to manage that no one else +comes? Oh, it will be brief enough, even if we speak. But the statue in +the niche--I can't remember." + +"It is in the shadow. The draperies of red are very faded, and so is the +gilt of the embroideries now. Once it was very gorgeous, and it is +called Maria Madalena." + +Keith turned on the speaker with flaming eyes. + +"She kneels there to pray--_she_? What mad fanaticism is that? Good God, +man! _she_ is the soul of innocence!" + +"What she knows of her own heart, she knows, my friend. This is not the +thing to tell a man who is to her what you are; but there is--there may +be some day, a thing that will leave her free; and if it come--" + +Keith had covered his face with his hands. The weakness of the illness +was still on him; he durst not leave his eyes unguarded. But after a +little he looked up. + +"You know something more?" he said. + +"I know there is another woman who has Rafael tied hand and foot; I know +she will take him away; the only thing I do not know is how long it will +last. The bishop himself would help such a separation." + +"God himself could not," said Keith, "unless he kill Rafael Arteaga. +When I heard what he said of her outside the window, I was tempted to +kill him with my own hand. Nothing else would free her; I heard the oath +she took!" + +"To send to eternity the soul she is vowed to guard would not free her +from the idea. If he should die suddenly, unshriven, it is a lost soul, +just the same." + +"It is the maddest fanaticism to bind a child like that to such a hell; +and she accepts it, as--as her people in the past accepted the order for +sacrifices." + +"What do you know of her people?" + +"What do you?" + +The two men looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and then Padre +Libertad spoke: + +"I saw her mother years ago in Mexico. I was only a boy, and I adored +Estevan. I carried letters for their love-making. That helps me to +understand their daughter. It is true; it is in the blood, and you must +go, my friend, before worse happens. And if ever she should be free--" + +Keith put out his hand. + +"Don't tempt me with a hope like that! I want to be sane when I do see +her!" + + * * * * * + +He saw Dona Angela first, a delightful vision of brocades and white +mantilla. She had dressed early, that she might help to receive the +guests. + +She flinched a little under his keen glance as his eyes wandered from +the pearl-trimmed bodice to the fair face. + +"Oh, of course it is not mourning," she exclaimed, "if that is what you +are thinking of! But at least I wear no color, and it is only for one +night. I have not the least intention of dancing. The whole affair is +only to show off the old costumes." + +"You succeed very well," he remarked. "Let Dolly come around to see me +when she has had supper. I leave early in the morning, and can't see her +then to say good-bye." + +"So soon--going?" She tried to keep the delight from her tone of +surprise. He was the most unmanageable man she had ever known. His +indifference had attracted her, even infatuated her, a year ago, but +there were days since when she thought she hated him. "Yes, I will send +Dolly. She loves you dearly, more even than she did poor Ted." + +"We will not discuss my brother," he said, coldly. "But that will not +prevent me caring for the child as he would have done." + +"Irrespective of her mother?" she asked, halting in the door and looking +over her shoulder at him. + +"Certainly." + +"Or--or of anything I might offend you in?" + +"Nothing you choose to do will affect my promise to my brother," he +said, impatient at her persistence. + +"I may remind you of that some day," she said, gathering up her +brocades. "If you do go, I hope that ghoul of a man, your padre, goes +too. His silence makes him more like a spook than a man. The people have +a holy horror of his piety." + +After she had disappeared, Padre Libertad entered from an inner room and +smiled grimly at Bryton. + +"You are the sort of lover to be unhappy," he observed. "You can't +console yourself with the other women. Half the men in the valley are +mad over that woman, who would coquette with you if you did not turn ice +when she comes near." + +Keith stared out of the window toward the hills of the sea, tinged with +the warm rose of the sunset. And the man in a priest's robe tried to +laugh, and ended with a sigh. + +"I admire your strength, though I doubt if I could emulate it," he +confessed. "One pretty woman in sight is worth a dozen goddesses over +the hill." + +"Talk sense if you can!" + +"I can. I shall leave to-night instead of to-morrow. I find I can go to +Mexico, or South America if I choose, without touching land. I shall be +running away with the property of a relative, and you might not care to +mix up with it." + +"An hour ago you had no such plan." + +"An hour ago I had not confessed Victorio Lopez! I know an old record of +his, and he thinks it is witchcraft. There is a lot of coin going +along,--a matter of several rawhide sacks of it,--but it will be donated +by a man who can afford gifts. Let me have your address two months +ahead, and I can tell you how it all turns out." + +"You should be glad to get away alive, without weighting yourself with +coin. There is a woman here who would care if things went entirely +wrong." + +"Ana? It is for her I take the chance. I know a corner down the coast +where fifty thousand will last forever. She is free, and she is of +California--no snow of the hills in her blood! She will come to me after +the chase is over." + +"She knows?" + +"Not yet. Women's fears upset things sometimes. If I do not tell her, +it will be better. I need only tell that I am going; she is waiting +eagerly for that." + +"And Victorio Lopez?" + +"He is paralyzed by the fear that I may give some old proofs of things +to the alcalde. Oh, Victorio is all right. He knows two Indian sailors +who will say nothing. They need to get away, and want a chance. We will +bind and gag the others and put them ashore. It is all settled. The +saints be thanked that I know boats and the coast!" + +Bryton scarcely knew whether to think the plan a wild fancy or an actual +fact. The whole scheme of life those days was so filled with the strange +and tragic, that all the echoes of laughter and the tinkle of guitars in +the corridors could not even temper it. + +At sunset Rafael Arteaga rode a dripping horse into the plaza, and +shouted cordial responses to the chorus of greetings awaiting him. All +the day he had been in the saddle. "On business," was the only +explanation to Don Eduardo and Dona Maria. To his wife he had offered +none, nor spoken since the scene in the chapel. But he was in high good +spirits, gay and eager. + +He came direct to Bryton's room with a fine air of delight that he was +on his feet again. Even to Padre Libertad, whom he had so fervently +cursed the day before, he was at last gracious. When told by Ana that +the padre was on his journey south either at once or early in the +morning, he gave her some gold pieces to bestow upon him for his church +or his order: priests always had all sorts of ways to use money. Padre +Libertad accepted the alms gratefully, and exchanged for them a +blessing. + +The sun was gone, and men, and women too, were riding in from outlying +ranches. The Indians and Mexicans were trooping to the plaza to watch +the gay caballeros and dark-eyed ladies in the dresses of their +grandparents. Raquel Arteaga, dressed in simple black, with white +undersleeves and white chemisette of silk, stood in the corridor for a +while and greeted her earlier guests, while her husband dressed. All the +people were on the west side of the plaza, where the dancing was to be. +Bryton could see her there surrounded by the gay people, almost nunlike +with the strings of black pearls around her throat as sole ornament, and +in the braids of her hair the white stars of the odorous jasmine, thrust +there by Ana, to break the severity of her garb. Her eyes burned like +purple stars, and the pink color crept, in spite of herself, to her +cheeks, and stayed there. Somewhere, she knew, one man was watching her, +and each moment the terror grew that some of their many friends would +bring him to her and make it impossible for him to refuse to come. + +Several times she caught the eyes of Ana regarding her curiously. It was +the first time she had ever seen Raquel surrounded by men and bandying +compliments, and looking, for all her nunlike white and black, like a +royal creature at a puppet show. And Ana had a sort of triumph in noting +that the eyes of Dona Angela also wandered to her hostess in a sort of +petulant amaze at the supremacy of her, when she chose to unbend and +radiate graciousness in that manner. For Raquel jested and laughed at +the pretty phrases of caballeros murmured in her ear. She refused a +brooch of emerald for the Virgin in the chapel, in exchange for the +jasmine in her hair. She promised two men to say a rosary for their +aching hearts, and she allowed the older men to kiss her hands. One +looking at her said: + +"You are Mexico come to life to-night, senora. Always I have thought it. +But to-night I see it with my own eyes. Mexico has always that glory of +the opal fires at the heart." + +Angela Bryton saw and heard, and her own childish appeal appeared all at +once cheap and of tinsel. The pearls and brocades of the woman she hated +seemed to scorch her flesh, and she felt the truth of the petulant words +she had said to Rafael: that the pearls had been tossed to her with the +indifference of a queen. The owner of the casket could afford to stand +serene and gemless, with only the jasmine flower in her hair, and yet +dominate. + +A cold rage filled her as she realized what Raquel could mean to men if +she cared. It would be as it was when they met first on the hill, always +she would hold the middle of the road, if she was aroused to care. Up to +that moment there had been a wild fancy of perhaps sailing away alone +with the hastily gathered coin, and of stopping at no port for Rafael. +She was half afraid of him and after all what could he do if she did +elude him like that? But the sight of Raquel and her little court of +admirers changed all that. The proud eyes should know all the +humiliation one woman could cause another--all! + +She looked for Rafael; at once she would tell him,--now, while the glory +of the Mexican opal eclipsed the woman of the royal pearls! She was +blind with anger to every other thing. But he had not yet appeared. He +was dressing, and a gentleman came to claim her for a dance. The guitars +were already sending harmonies through the open doors, and the people +were gathering thick along the western corridors. The rest of the plaza +and the inner court were deserted. Not even a pair of lovers strayed +from the crowd as yet. Later, when the moon came up, they would gather +courage, but the shadows of the corridors seemed eerie retreats at +night to any but souls oblivious to the world. + +It was not night yet. The first star glimmered in the western sky, and +to the east a soft radiance over San Juan Mountain marked the path where +the moon would come. In the warm dusk the woman with the opal fires of +Mexico in her heart slipped away from the gay groups and through the +stillness of the padres' garden, under the sculptured face and serpent, +and then to the place of the altar, where the shadows were always +softest. She came swiftly, silently; she had an odd feeling of being +followed by his thoughts. The altar was the one place of refuge +surely--the altar! + +But it was not. He stood there leaning against the pillar. She carried a +tiny candle and a rosary. He watched her light other candles in the +niche, thus outlining the carved saint with the long hair over her +shoulders, and the draperies of crimson. Flowers were there, blood-red +roses, and he saw it all in the soft glimmer of the candles; then, as +she was about to kneel before them, he strode forward and caught her +arm. + +The golden rosary fell on the tiled floor between them, and she placed +her other hand over his, in mute appeal. + +"You shall not kneel at that altar," he commanded, his voice scarcely +raised above a whisper; "that much of you belongs to me. I will not go +away from you with that memory of you in my mind; I will not!" + +She was trembling, and dared not lift her eyes. + +"You should not have touched me," she said, brokenly. "All those hours +on the hill I did not touch you even once. Must the two of us be weaker +than one?" + +"Weak? Oh yes, I am weak to-night, or I should not be here--the weakness +of a sick man who cannot help himself. It is the last time, Espiritu +mia, so long as we live--so long as we live!" + +She slipped the Aztec ring from her finger and gave it to him. + +"I thought perhaps it was the ring that gave you power over my +thoughts," she said, simply; "but it was not. Your heart beats here in +my breast, and will till I die, or till you do. Take it back, keep it. +After all, it was not the ring!" + +Her voice was so low, so even, that he, hearing his own heart-beats at +the mere sight of her, felt the sudden resentment of a sick man at what +appeared to be her cold control of herself. + +"Is it so easy for you, then?" he asked. "Like slipping a ring from your +finger or a bracelet from your wrist, and putting it aside to wear no +more? Oh, God! If but for one minute you could know aught but the sweet +cool love of the girl, or the nun, or the devotee!" + +She caught her breath in a little shudder at the heart-call in his +words, then put out her hand and looked at him as he had never seen her +look. + +"Don't touch me," she said, her tones tense with a final decision. "You +think that I do not know--that I do not understand; yet you see me kneel +_there_!" and she flung one eloquent hand to the Madalena of the roses. +"It is the thought--the thought! That we live on different sides of the +world will not change the fact that you live in me, and I in you. And it +will be always--always! I do not understand? Yet I have locked my door +at night and flung the key through the bars of the window, that I could +not follow my heart and go to you wherever you were! I do not +understand? Yet there have been days when I feared to mount my horse to +ride alone, for fear the wild wish for you would grow stronger than I +could bear, and I should ride to you, to you only, and--oh, Mother of +God!--ask you to keep me there!" + +Her voice broke in shuddering sobs, and she covered her face with her +hands, sinking on her knees before the Madalena of the altar, the last +crowned saint left in the ruin. Her one hand was still extended to ward +him off, but he caught it, held it, and drew her to him. + +"You are mine by all that!" he muttered, scarce knowing what he said. +"Do you think I shall leave you here after knowing the truth? Espiritu! +The Indians named you rightly. Spirit of mine, there are no bonds of +earth strong enough to keep me from you now. Come! Our world is +together; the nights of the evil dreams have been lived through. +Somewhere we shall find the sunshine." + +The hand clasping hers she caught to her lips, but when he would have +clasped her, she broke from him with a low moan of protest. + +"I tell you this that you go away knowing that the real life of me is +with you always," she said, and stood leaning against the altar of the +saint. "Go now, and go quickly; for I tell you truly, if the day ever +come again when I find myself like to follow you, I will come where I am +now, and this will end it all." + +From the bodice of her gown she drew the little dagger she had taken +from the jewel-casket the day before. + +"My life is not my own to live in my own way; it is bound by an oath to +the dead, and there is no release, none--none! Go now. You know my +heart and the madness of it. Forget me if you can,--but oh, beloved, not +too quickly!" + +[Illustration: "ONE WORDLESS MINUTE."] + +He caught her to him and held her there. The world reeled about them for +one wordless minute, and then he released her and walked out across +where the tower of the temple had once been, and he knew he was leaving +her forever. A horse was waiting. He had said he could ride best in the +moonlight, and a little later the hoof-beats sounded through the +strumming guitars, and she knew it was over! It was her sacrifice for +the oath to the dead, and she sank prostrate in the shadow of the altar. +The tiny candles glimmered and went out, yet still she lay there. The +moon in its soft yellow light flooded the open space without, but did +not touch her. She had found the rosary and clasped it, her lips against +the cold pearl figure of the sculptured Christ. + +And then two persons came toward her through the arch of the old +sacristy, one in the velvet and gold lace of a Spanish grandee, and the +other a shimmer of brocade and pearl-gemmed lilies. + +"No, I will not go without it," the woman's voice was saying, +petulantly, "not though a dozen boats waited! Yes, I can slip away after +the dance. Have a horse ready. Dolly will be sleeping; she is the +greatest risk. But we can be out of sight of land long before the dawn +breaks." + +The man murmured some plea in her ear, and she turned away, shrugging +her shoulders. + +"The jewels first!" she said, with pretty decision. "The coin is a +matter of course; we shall need that to live on. But the jewels--why +not? Half of them belonged to your own family, and for the rest--well, +you leave her enough to give the Church; that is all she lives for. +Bring me the jewels at once: when I see them in my own hand, I am ready +to promise everything." + +"You are not afraid to wait here?" + +"Yes, a little," she acknowledged. "It's a horrid, creepy place, but +it's the one corner where no one else will come. I will wait for them +here." + +The woman prostrate before the Madalena arose to her feet and stood +motionless in the shadow. Her hands were crossed unconsciously on her +heart to quiet its beating. Her own sacrifice, then, was to go for +nothing; the vow she had sworn to live for was to count for naught +because of one little white vampire of a creature whose god was gold and +jewels! + +The crossed hands held the rosary and the dagger. + +"They are here," said Rafael, returning after a few minutes, "all but +the few the girls wear to-night. There! They are at last in your own +hands, and now--" + +She slipped her white arm about his throat and kissed him on the mouth. + +"And you will live in my way--not hers?" she said, with clinging +sweetness. "You are not to be even Catholic with me? You have promised!" + +"Thou art my only god, O little white one!" he said, and pressed her to +his breast. "All the world can go to hell, so I have you! My soul I give +into these little hands; my heart is under these little feet, which I +kiss thus; and thus, and thus! Though Christ himself stood in the way, I +would have you for myself!" + +She laughed softly in her triumph. + +"We shall be missed," she said at last. "Go that way to the plaza, and I +will go by the old garden. These I will wrap up and carry in my own +hands. Go,--oh, there will be other nights for kisses,--go now, +quickly!" + +She pushed him from her, and he obeyed, walking across the tiled floor +in the moonlight, and out into the plaza, as Bryton had walked so short +a time before. The woman with the casket stood an instant looking after +him, and then raised the lid and lifted a handful of the gems, holding +them up that the soft light of the moon might add to the glow of rubies +and the white fire of diamonds. + +"All these, and his very soul besides!" she murmured, holding a necklace +aloft to the moon's rays,--"his soul besides!" + +And then a low strangled cry escaped her as the woman of the rosary and +dagger came silently to her from the shadows and halted a moment beside +her. + + * * * * * + +A little later the Padre Libertad was stopped in the corridor by Raquel. +He had been watching the dancers, and was about to start south. Like +Bryton, he meant to ride at night, instead of in the hot sun. + +"Wait," she said, imperatively; "the chapel is open; I would confess +before you go." + +"But to-morrow--your own padre--" + +"To-night," she said; "and I want no other padre." + +"If you have remembered a sin--" he began, hesitatingly; but she +interrupted. + +"I think it is neither sin nor remorse," she said, quietly; "but it is +you that must listen to me." + +He closed the door behind them. Old Polonia crouched unnoticed beside +it, and in perhaps ten minutes he came out again, and started to walk +the road to the sea. Rafael saw him, and laughed at the queer +crack-brained padre who preferred walking to riding a good horse. +Others laughed also, and the dance went on, until the partners of Dona +Angela grew impatient, and a gay party with guitars started to encircle +the plaza for her, singing love-songs of appeal as they went. + +[Illustration: "THINGS KNOWN AND NEVER TOLD."] + +The white gleam of the brocaded gown caught the eyes of the singers, and +then a great cry went up in the night, and the music of the dance +ceased, and the people crowded about the dead woman on the altar steps, +and the old Indios crossed themselves, and said in their own tongue: + +"It has come, after all,--the sacrifice of blood on the altar of the +temple,--the thing our fathers told us has come to pass." + +The strings of pearls and other jewels were scattered on the +diamond-shaped tiles of the floor, and many were red with blood. + +"Some one has tried to steal the jewels while we all danced there," +suggested one of the guests, "and she has died defending them. Rafael, +she has given her life to save the jewels of your wife!" + +"Yes," Rafael said, at last, and stared at the speaker in a dazed way; +"my wife. I--I will go to my wife." + +He strode through the crowd toward the living-rooms, and flung wide the +door of her chamber. She was on her knees where Padre Libertad had left +her. + +"Raquel!" + +His voice sounded hollow and strange in his own ears. A strange buzzing +in his head blurred speech and thought, and when she arose and faced him +with clear eyes and quiet face, he leaned against the chair and looked +at her strangely--helplessly. + +"She is dead," he said, thickly; "Angela Bryton is found dead--and your +jewels--" + +"Wait," she said, "and I will go with you." + +And turning, she lifted the lid from the perfumed box of candles. + +"She did not believe in these," she said, quietly, "but we will light +them for her, just the same. None of us knew whom they would burn for; +perhaps she knows now, Rafael." + +He made no answer, but moved like a man stunned mentally. Out beside her +he walked to the altar-place, and the people made way for them. + +It was the hour of dawn when a fisherman rode from the beach to tell how +he had found two sailors beaten and bound at the landing-place. They had +a story of a sailing-vessel and sacks of coin, and a bearded man who +looked like El Capitan; but it must have been his ghost, for it was +thought Capitan was dead, as well as Juan Flores. At any rate, the +vessel was gone, and the sailors were left tied on the shore. They were +afraid to face Rafael Arteaga, because of the coin he had trusted them +with, and the good boat, gone now straight out of sight--the saints and +the devil only knew where! + +But they needed not to fear Rafael. The coin, for which he had exchanged +all the cattle and horses possible to sell in two days' time, was a +forgotten thing to him, or uncared for. He sat apart and silent, as +though paralyzed by a great fear, and he ever followed Raquel Arteaga +with his eyes, and said nothing. + +The people wondered much that the robbers who would kill a woman and +steal a boat had not stopped also to gather up the scattered jewels +strewn about her. But they had not. Not even a diamond was missing. They +were gathered from the tiles, and the blood was washed from them, and +the casket was taken to Raquel by Ana, who was almost as silent as +Rafael. On that subject, never in their lives would they gain courage to +speak. Raquel took the casket, and looked at the gems, but did not touch +them. + +"And for such trifles she lost her life, perhaps her soul--who knows?" +she said, in the same colorless quiet way, and handed the casket to her +husband. "Rafael, have these put away for her child, when she becomes a +woman. They were paid for by the mother!" + +From that night Rafael Arteaga was a changed man. Some said he had gone +mad at the death of the woman there; others said that it was not the +death of the woman, but the curse of the Arteagas had fallen upon him. +No one ever heard him laugh or sing again; and when his wife brought +pretty Marta's little boy from the willows, and had him educated to +inherit after his father, the father accepted him almost without notice. + +Keith Bryton never came back. Letters concerning the child of Dona +Angela were exchanged with Don Eduardo, who remained her guardian, and +after that there were long years of silence. Only one man, far down the +coast of South America, guessed what Raquel Arteaga lived through. Even +to Ana, who had left her own land to join him, there were some things +known to him of the old Mission days, and never told. + +[Music: _Al Fin_] + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + + +Raquel knelt no more at the shrine of the Madalena, but she went there +nightly as the afterglow flooded the valley. Sometimes she rode her +horse alone up the dusk shadows of Trabuco, past the portal of the aliso +tree and into the inner court of memory. But always she kept the tryst +of the first star of nightfall. + +When the years of the great war of the East came, she knew he was there. +And when, after a battle called "Chickamauga," there came a tiny package +from that far-away place, she stood in the dusk of the old temple, and +slipped the ring of the Aztec eagle again on her finger. Then she knew +that the end of the separation had come. + + * * * * * + +"If it were any other woman than you, Raquel Arteaga, men would say you +rode to meet a lover, when you gallop like that in the night, and come +back looking as if you had just been kissed," said Teresa, with watchful +malice. "The old Indios say that you bathe in the night dews as a charm +to keep young always. But why do you ride alone?" + +"Alone?" The woman who the old courtier had said held the opal fires of +Mexico in her heart smiled on her sister-in-law at that question, and +the dusk shadows of night and mystery were in her violet eyes. "I am +never alone now, Teresa. It is a long time since I felt alone, a very +long time." + + +THE END + +[Music] + +[Illustration] + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's For the Soul of Rafael, by Marah Ellis Ryan + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FOR THE SOUL OF RAFAEL *** + +***** This file should be named 39995.txt or 39995.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/9/9/9/39995/ + +Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, tallforasmurf and +the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at + www.gutenberg.org/license. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at 809 +North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email +contact links and up to date contact information can be found at the +Foundation's web site and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For forty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |