Maruja, Page 2

  CHAPTER II

  In the mean time, the young officer, who had disappeared in theshrubbery, whether he had or had not been a spectator of the scene,exhibited some signs of agitation. He walked rapidly on, occasionallyswitching the air with a wand of willow, from which he had impatientlyplucked the leaves, through an alley of ceanothus, until he reached alittle thicket of evergreens, which seemed to oppose his furtherprogress. Turning to one side, however, he quickly found an entranceto a labyrinthine walk, which led him at last to an open space and arustic summer-house that stood beneath a gnarled and venerablepear-tree. The summerhouse was a quaint stockade of dark madronoboughs thatched with red-wood bark, strongly suggestive of deeperwoodland shadow. But in strange contrast, the floor, table, andbenches were thickly strewn with faded rose-leaves, scattered as if insome riotous play of children. Captain Carroll brushed them asidehurriedly with his impatient foot, glanced around hastily, then threwhimself on the rustic bench at full length and twisted his mustachebetween his nervous fingers. Then he rose as suddenly, with a fewwhite petals impaled on his gilded spurs and stepped quickly into theopen sunlight.

  He must have been mistaken! Everything was quiet around him, thefar-off sound of wheels in the avenue came faintly, but nothing more.

  His eye fell upon the pear-tree, and even in his preoccupation he wasstruck with the signs of its extraordinary age. Twisted out of allproportion, and knotted with excrescences, it was supported by ironbands and heavy stakes, as if to prop up its senile decay. He tried tointerest himself in the various initials and symbols deeply carved inbark, now swollen and half obliterated. As he turned back to thesummer-house, he for the first time noticed that the ground rose behindit into a long undulation, on the crest of which the same singularprofusion of rose-leaves were scattered. It struck him as beingstrangely like a gigantic grave, and that the same idea had occurred tothe fantastic dispenser of the withered flowers. He was still lookingat it, when a rustle in the undergrowth made his heart beatexpectantly. A slinking gray shadow crossed the undulation anddisappeared in the thicket. It was a coyote. At any other time theextraordinary appearance of this vivid impersonation of the wilderness,so near a centre of human civilization and habitation, would havefilled him with wonder. But he had room for only a single thought now.Would SHE come?

  Five minutes passed. He no longer waited in the summer-house, butpaced impatiently before the entrance to the labyrinth. Another fiveminutes. He was deceived, undoubtedly. She and her sisters wereprobably waiting for him and laughing at him on the lawn. He groundhis heel into the clover, and threw his switch into the thicket. Yethe would give her one--only one moment more.

  "Captain Carroll!"

  The voice had been and was to HIM the sweetest in the world; but even astranger could not have resisted the spell of its musical inflection.He turned quickly. She was advancing towards him from the summer-house.

  "Did you think I was coming that way--where everybody could follow me?"she laughed, softly. "No; I came through the thicket over there,"indicating the direction with her flexible shoulder, "and nearly lostmy slipper and my eyes--look!" She threw back the inseparable laceshawl from her blond head, and showed a spray of myrtle clinging like abroken wreath to her forehead. The young officer remained gazing ather silently.

  "I like to hear you speak my name," he said, with a slight hesitationin his breath. "Say it again."

  "Car-roll, Car-roll, Car-roll," she murmured gently to herself two orthree times, as if enjoying her own native trilling of the r's. "It's apretty name. It sounds like a song. Don Carroll, eh! El Capitan DonCarroll."

  "But my first name is Henry," he said, faintly.

  "'Enry--that's not so good. Don Enrico will do. But El CapitanCarroll is best of all. I must have it always: El Capitan Carroll!"

  "Always?" He colored like a boy.

  "Why not?" He was confusedly trying to look through her brown lashes;she was parrying him with the steel of her father's glance. "Come!Well! Captain Carroll! It was not to tell me your name--that I knewalready was pretty--Car-roll!" she murmured again, caressing him withher lashes; "it was not for this that you asked me to meet you face toface in this--cold"--she made a movement of drawing her lace over hershoulders--"cold daylight. That belonged to the lights and the danceand the music of last night. It is not for this you expect me to leavemy guests, to run away from Monsieur Garnier, who pays compliments, butwhose name is not pretty--from Mr. Raymond, who talks OF me when hecan't talk TO me. They will say, This Captain Carroll could say allthat before them."

  "But if they knew," said the young officer, drawing closer to her witha paling face but brightening eyes, "if they knew I had anything elseto say, Miss Saltonstall--something--pardon me--did I hurt yourhand?--something for HER alone--is there one of them that would havethe right to object? Do not think me foolish, Miss Saltonstall--but--Ibeg--I implore you to tell me before I say more."

  "Who would have a right?" said Maruja, withdrawing her hand but not herdangerous eyes. "Who would dare forbid you talking to me of my sister?I have told you that Amita is free--as we all are."

  Captain Carroll fell back a few steps and gazed at her with a troubledface. "It is possible that you have misunderstood, Miss Saltonstall?"he faltered. "Do you still think it is Amita that I"--he stopped andadded passionately, "Do you remember what I told you?--have youforgotten last night?"

  "Last night was--last night!" said Maruja, slightly lifting hershoulders. "One makes love at night--one marries in daylight. In themusic, in the flowers, in the moonlight, one says everything; in themorning one has breakfast--when one is not asked to have councils ofwar with captains and commandantes. You would speak of my sister,Captain Car-roll--go on. Dona Amita Carroll sounds very, very pretty.I shall not object." She held out both her hands to him, threw herhead back, and smiled.

  He seized her hands passionately. "No, no! you shall hear me--youshall understand me. I love YOU, Maruja--you, and you alone. Godknows I can not help it--God knows I would not help it if I could. Hearme. I will be calm. No one can hear us where we stand. I am not mad.I am not a traitor! I frankly admired your sister. I came here to seeher. Beyond that, I swear to you, I am guiltless to her--to you. Evenshe knows no more of me than that. I saw you, Maruja. From thatmoment I have thought of nothing--dreamed of nothing else."

  "That is--three, four, five days and one afternoon ago! You see, Iremember. And now you want--what?"

  "To let me love you, and you only. To let me be with you. To let mewin you in time, as you should be won. I am not mad, though I amdesperate. I know what is due to your station and mine--even while Idare to say I love you. Let me hope, Maruja, I only ask to hope."

  She looked at him until she had absorbed all the burning fever of hiseyes, until her ears tingled with his passionate voice, and then--sheshook her head.

  "It can not be, Carroll--no! never!"

  He drew himself up under the blow with such simple and manly dignitythat her eyes dropped for the moment. "There is another, then?" hesaid, sadly.

  "There is no one I care for better than you. No! Do not be foolish.Let me go. I tell you that because you can be nothing to me--youunderstand, to ME. To my sister Amita, yes."

  The young soldier raised his head coldly. "I have pressed you hard,Miss Saltonstall--too hard, I know, for a man who has already had hisanswer; but I did not deserve this. Good-by."

  "Stop," she said, gently. "I meant not to hurt you, Captain Carroll.If I had, it is not thus I would have done. I need not have met youhere. Would you have loved me the less if I had avoided this meeting?"

  He could not reply. In the depths of his miserable heart, he knew thathe would have loved her the same.

  "Come," she said, laying her hand softly on his arm, "do not be angrywith me for putting you back only five days to where you were when youfirst entered our house. Five days is not much of happiness or sorrowto forget, is it, Carroll--Captain Carroll?" Her voice
died away in afaint sigh. "Do not be angry with me, if--knowing you could be nothingmore--I wanted you to love my sister, and my sister to love you. Weshould have been good friends--such good friends."

  "Why do you say, 'Knowing it could he nothing more'?" said Carroll,grasping her hand suddenly. "In the name of Heaven, tell me what youmean!"

  "I mean I can not marry unless I marry one of my mother's race. That ismy mother's wish, and the will of her relations. You are an American,not of Spanish blood."

  "But surely this is not your determination?"

  She shrugged her shoulders. "What would you? It is the determinationof my people."

  "But knowing this"--he stopped; the quick blood rose to his face.

  "Go on, Captain Carroll. You would say, Knowing this, why did I notwarn you? Why did I not say to you when we first met, You have come toaddress my sister; do not fall in love with me--I can not marry aforeigner."

  "You are cruel, Maruja. But, if that is all, surely this prejudice canbe removed? Why, your mother married a foreigner--an American."

  "Perhaps that is why," said the girl, quietly. She cast down her longlashes, and with the point of her satin slipper smoothed out the softleaves of the clover at her feet. "Listen; shall I tell you the storyof our house? Stop! some one is coming. Don't move; remain as youare. If you care for me, Carroll, collect yourself, and don't let thatman think he has found US ridiculous." Her voice changed from its toneof slight caressing pleading to one of suppressed pride. "HE will notlaugh much, Captain Carroll; truly, no."

  The figure of Garnier, bright, self-possessed, courteous, appeared atthe opening of the labyrinth. Too well-bred to suggest, even incomplimentary raillery, a possible sentimental situation, hispoliteness went further. It was so kind in them to guide an awkwardstranger by their voices to the places where he could not stupidlyintrude!

  "You are just in time to interrupt or to hear a story that I have beenthreatening to tell," she said, composedly; "an old Spanish legend ofthis house. You are in the majority now, you two, and can stop me ifyou choose. Thank you. I warn you it is stupid; it isn't new; but ithas the excuse of being suggested by this very spot." She cast a quicklook of subtle meaning at Carroll, and throughout her recital appealedmore directly to him, in a manner delicately yet sufficiently marked topartly soothe his troubled spirit.

  "Far back, in the very old times, Caballeros," said Maruja, standing bythe table in mock solemnity, and rapping upon it with her fan, "thisplace was the home of the coyote. Big and little, father and mother,Senor and Senora Coyotes, and the little muchacho coyotes had theirhome in the dark canada, and came out over these fields, yellow withwild oats and red with poppies, to seek their prey. They were happy.For why? They were the first; they had no history, you comprehend, notradition. They married as they liked" (with a glance at Carroll),"nobody objected; they increased and multiplied. But the plains werefertile; the game was plentiful; it was not fit that it should be forthe beasts alone. And so, in the course of time, an Indian chief, aheathen, Koorotora, built his wigwam here."

  "I beg your pardon," said Garnier, in apparent distress, "but I caughtthe gentleman's name imperfectly."

  Fully aware that the questioner only wished to hear again her musicalenunciation of the consonants, she repeated, "Koorotora," with anapologetic glance at Carroll, and went on. "This gentleman had nohistory or tradition to bother him, either; whatever Senor Coyotethought of the matter, he contented himself with robbing SenorKoorotora's wigwam when he could, and skulking around the Indian's campat night. The old chief prospered, and made many journeys round thecountry, but always kept his camp here. This lasted until the timewhen the holy Fathers came from the South, and Portala, as you have allread, uplifted the wooden Cross on the sea-coast over there, and leftit for the heathens to wonder at. Koorotora saw it on one of hisjourneys, and came back to the canada full of this wonder. Now,Koorotora had a wife."

  "Ah, we shall commence now. We are at the beginning. This is betterthan Senora Coyota," said Garnier, cheerfully.

  "Naturally, she was anxious to see the wonderful object. She saw it,and she saw the holy Fathers, and they converted her against thesuperstitious heathenish wishes of her husband. And more than that,they came here--"

  "And converted the land also; is it not so? It was a lovely site for amission," interpolated Garnier, politely.

  "They built a mission and brought as many of Koorotora's people as theycould into the sacred fold. They brought them in in a queer fashionsometimes, it is said; dragoons from the Presidio, Captain Carroll,lassoing them and bringing them in at the tails of their horses. Allexcept Koorotora. He defied them; he cursed them and his wife in hiswicked heathenish fashion, and said that they too should lose themission through the treachery of some woman, and that the coyote shouldyet prowl through the ruined walls of the church. The holy Fatherspitied the wicked man--and built themselves a lovely garden. Look atthat pear-tree! There is all that is left of it!"

  She turned with a mock heroic gesture, and pointed her fan to thepear-tree. Garnier lifted his hands in equally simulated wonder. Asudden recollection of the coyote of the morning recurred to Carrolluneasily. "And the Indians," he said, with an effort to shake off thefeeling; "they, too, have vanished."

  "All that remained of them is in yonder mound. It is the grave of thechief and his people. He never lived to see the fulfillment of hisprophecy. For it was a year after his death that our ancestor, ManuelGuitierrez, came from old Spain to the Presidio with a grant of twentyleagues to settle where he chose. Dona Maria Guitierrez took a fancyto the canada. But it was a site already in possession of the HolyChurch. One night, through treachery, it was said, the guards werewithdrawn and the Indians entered the mission, slaughtered the laybrethren, and drove away the priests. The Commandant at the Presidioretook the place from the heathens, but on representation to theGovernor that it was indefensible for the peaceful Fathers without alarge military guard, the official ordered the removal of the missionto Santa Cruz, and Don Manuel settled his twenty leagues grant in thecanada. Whether he or Dona Maria had anything to do with the Indianuprising, no one knows; but Father Pedro never forgave them. He issaid to have declared at the foot of the altar that the curse of theChurch was on the land, and that it should always pass into the handsof the stranger."

  "And that was long ago, and the property is still in the family," saidCarroll, hurriedly, answering Maruja's eyes.

  "In the last hundred years there have been no male heirs," continuedMaruja, still regarding Carroll. "When my mother, who was the eldestdaughter, married Don Jose Saltonstall against the wishes of thefamily, it was said that the curse would fall. Sure enough,Caballeros, it was that year that the forged grants of Micheltorrenawere discovered; and in our lawsuit your government, Captain, handedover ten leagues of the llano land to the Doctor West, our neighbor."

  "Ah, the gray-headed gentleman who lunched here the other day? You arefriends, then? You bear no malice?" said Garnier.

  "What would you?" said Maruja, with a slight shrug of her shoulders."He paid his money to the forger. Your corregidores upheld him, andsaid it was no forgery," she continued, to Carroll.

  In spite of the implied reproach, Carroll felt relieved. He began tobe impatient of Garnier's presence, and longed to renew his suit.Perhaps his face showed something of this, for Maruja added, with mockdemureness, "It's always dreadful to be the eldest sister; but thinkwhat it is to be in the direct line of a curse! Now, there'sAmita--SHE'S free to do as she likes, with no family responsibility;while poor me!" She dropped her eyes, but not until they had againsought and half-reproved the brightening eyes of Carroll.

  "But," said Garnier, with a sudden change from his easy security andcourteous indifference to an almost harsh impatience, "you do not meanto say, Mademoiselle, that you have the least belief in this rubbish,this ridiculous canard?"

  Maruja's straight mouth quickly tightened over her teeth. She shot asignificant g
lance at Carroll, but instantly resumed her former manner.

  "It matters little what a foolish girl like myself believes. The restof the family, even the servants and children, all believe it. It is apart of their religion. Look at these flowers around the pear-tree,and scattered on that Indian mound. They regularly find their waythere on saints' days and festas. THEY are not rubbish, MonsieurGarnier; they are propitiatory sacrifices. Pereo would believe that atemblor would swallow up the casa if we should ever forego thesecustomary rites. Is it a mere absurdity that forced my father to buildthese modern additions around the heart of the old adobe house, leavingit untouched, so that the curse might not be fulfilled even byimplication?"

  She had assumed an air of such pretty earnestness and passion; hersatin face was illuminated as by some softly sensuous light within morebewildering than mere color, that Garnier, all devoted eyes andcourteous blandishment, broke out: "But this curse must fall harmlesslybefore the incarnation of blessing; Miss Saltonstall has no more tofear than the angels. She is the one predestined through her charm,through her goodness, to lift it forever."

  Carroll could not have helped echoing the aspirations of his rival, hadnot the next words of his mistress thrilled him with superstitiousterror.

  "A thousand thanks, Senor. Who knows? But I shall have warning whenit falls. A day or two before the awful invader arrives, a coyotesuddenly appears in broad daylight, mysteriously, near the casa. Thismidnight marauder, now banished to the thickest canyon, comes again toprowl around the home of his ancestors. Caramba! Senor Captain, whatare you staring at? You frighten me! Stop it, I say!"

  She had turned upon him, stamping her little foot in quite afrightened, childlike way.

  "Nothing," laughed Carroll, the quick blood returning to his cheek."But you must not be angry with one for being quite carried away withyour dramatic intensity. By Jove! I thought I could see the WHOLEthing while you were speaking--the old Indian, the priest, and thecoyote!" His eyes sparkled. The wild thought had occurred to him thatperhaps, in spite of himself, he was the young woman's predestinedfate; and in the very selfishness of his passion he smiled at the merematerial loss of lands and prestige that would follow it. "Then thecoyote has always preceded some change in the family fortunes?" heasked, boldly.

  "On my mother's wedding-day," said Maruja, in a lower voice, "after theparty had come from church to supper in the old casa, my father asked,'What dog is that under the table?' When they lifted the cloth tolook, a coyote rushed from the very midst of the guests and dashed outacross the patio. No one knew how or when he entered."

  "Heaven grant that we do not find he has eaten our breakfast!" saidGarnier, gayly, "for I judge it is waiting us. I hear your sister'svoice among the others crossing the lawn. Shall we tear ourselves awayfrom the tombs of our ancestors, and join them?"

  "Not as I am looking now, thank you," said Maruja, throwing the laceover her head. "I shall not submit myself to a comparison of theirfresher faces and toilets by you two gentlemen. Go you both and jointhem. I shall wait and say an Ave for the soul of Koorotora, and slipback alone the way I came."

  She had steadily evaded the pleading glance of Carroll, and though herbright face and unblemished toilet showed the inefficiency of herexcuse, it was evident that her wish to be alone was genuine andwithout coquetry. They could only lift their hats and turn regretfullyaway.

  As the red cap of the young officer disappeared amidst the evergreenfoliage, the young woman uttered a faint sigh, which she repeated amoment after as a slight nervous yawn. Then she opened and shut herfan once or twice, striking the sticks against her little pale palm,and then, gathering the lace under her oval chin with one hand, andcatching her fan and skirt with the other, bent her head and dippedinto the bushes. She came out on the other side near a low fence, thatseparated the park from a narrow lane which communicated with the highroad beyond. As she neared the fence, a slinking figure limped alongthe lane before her. It was the tramp of the early morning.

  They raised their heads at the same moment and their eyes met. Thetramp, in that clearer light, showed a spare, but bent figure, roughlyclad in a miner's shirt and canvas trousers, splashed and streaked withsoil, and half hidden in a ragged blue cast-off army overcoat lazilyhanging from one shoulder. His thin sun-burnt face was not without acertain sullen, suspicious intelligence, and a look of half-sneeringdefiance. He stopped, as a startled, surly animal might have stoppedat some unusual object, but did not exhibit any other discomposure.Maruja stopped at the same moment on her side of the fence.

  The tramp looked at her deliberately, and then slowly lowered his eyes."I'm looking for the San Jose road, hereabouts. Ye don't happen toknow it?" he said, addressing himself to the top of the fence.

  It had been said that it was not Maruja's way to encounter man, woman,or child, old or young, without an attempt at subjugation. Strong inher power and salient with fascination, she leaned gently over thefence, and with the fan raised to her delicate ear, made him repeat hisquestion under the soft fire of her fringed eyes. He did so, butincompletely, and with querulous laziness.

  "Lookin'--for--San Jose road--here'bouts."

  "The road to San Jose," said Maruja, with gentle slowness, as if notunwilling to protract the conversation, "is about two miles from here.It is the high road to the left fronting the plain. There is anotherway, if--"

  "Don't want it! Mornin'."

  He dropped his head suddenly forward, and limped away in the sunlight.