The Doomswoman: An Historical Romance of Old California, Page 3

  III.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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