Chapter XV: Señora Valentino Makes a Report

"Cap', if I do admit it, I never saw such a place as this for growin' things. Look at that grass. The finest hay in America could be cut there in way less than a month. Good oat, too, every spear of it. Reckon 'twill pretty much go to waste. Durn shame it is. Wish I had a hundred of them acres back in old Missouri. Whew!"

Early in the morning Brown and his employer had ridden down the hills skirting the eastern rim of Santa Clara valley, and were laboriously making their way through the luxuriant growths of that fertile section.

"I am not sure these acres will not be as valuable one day where they are as they would be in your native section," returned Farquharson.

"Put in your wheat, rye or barley here," continued Brown; "raise your crop. Then where be ye? Nobody round to buy you up and pay you money. We're too durn fur away here, Cap', for the country to be more'n bird ranges--yes, bird ranges, where the blessed little fellers can warble and chatter from daylight to their bedtime."

"Brown, what would you think if I predict that in a short time colonists will come here, men understanding farming and tree culture, to make this Western country their home?"

Brown shook his head. "If they double our tracks, Cap' from Santa Fé here, they'll need their fairy boots. Mighty rough trail we followed, and it's no smoother yet, I reckon. Besides, there's a sight of country between Santa Fé and civilization east of there which must be traveled some way. No, Cap', white men will shy this land for many a day, to my thinking. Durn sorry, too. Wish it wasn't so blame far from everywhere."

"But men can come here by water," suggested Farquharson.

"That depends where they start from. Quite a journey to here by water from Saint Louis, Missouri."

"No farther than England is from California. Brown, it would not surprise me if, before many years, shiploads of people from England will be tilling farms right here in this Santa Clara valley."

They were coming into the grounds of the Calderon hacienda. The white buildings gleamed in the morning light. The rolling hills formed a green background. Peons were going forth to the fields, at work in the gardens, or busy about their adobe cottages which nestled near the home of their master.

"Stay by the horses, Brown, while I enter," said Farquharson.

"Just as you say, Cap'."

The Englishman sought the entrance of the mansion and inquired for Señora Valentino.

"The señora met with an accident this morning," said one of the Señoritas Calderon who met him. "She is resting. Last night there was a baile at Señor Mendoza's, in Mission San José. She was there and has slept almost none till the present."

"Was the accident serious?" solicitude in his voice.

"Not serious, but painful."

"If you announce that Captain Farquharson would like words with her, I am sure she will not feel herself disturbed. It is really of great importance that I see her."

"What is it, querida?" asked Señora Calderon, coming to the outer hall.

"A señor caller to see Señora Valentino, mamita."

"She is nearly dropping for sleep, señor, as are we all. Besides, her hand is wounded."

"I saw your horse, Captain Farquharson, from my window, between winks. I had thought to catch an hour's sleep before you came. I am glad you are so prompt, though." Señora Valentino stood in the doorway. Then to Señora Calderon and her daughter, she said, "Friends, I made an engagement to speak with the señor caballero this morning."

"Pardon, señora. Pardon, señor," from the Calderons together. "We leave you."

"Well?" from Farquharson, when the others were gone.

"You have said it," Señora Valentino replied. "It is well."

"Tell me about it."

"In the first place, the Friar Lusciano Osuna has decided for active service."

"Good news, señora."

"The power of his words is overwhelming. He will be most valuable in winning Baja California to our cause. He came to see that English rule would be a fostering one to his Indian wards. On no other ground would he take part with us."

"But why do we need his work in Baja California more than in Alta California?"

"Good señor, this part of the province has been carefully worked over, and is responsive. In comparison, the lower half has scarcely been touched. I have made some representations touching sentiment there which may need bolstering."

"How?"

"Last night, at the baile, the young men, the most of them, were rapturously in favor of the English protectorate."

Farquharson smiled.

"The elders ardently followed; that is, the majority. A few hard-headed ones were obdurate. Mendoza, as I expected, was as set as a sheet anchor."

"Yes, señora."

"The greater number had arrived at that acute moment of mental tenseness when some outward act becomes a positive necessity. The dynamic, while thus agitating them, had set their consciousness in direction of an English protectorate. They became enthusiastic, perfervid, deadly determined on that protectorate.

"Then Mendoza voiced his desire of further consideration. So strongly did his personality affect the company that they were wavering, though still they shouted for England. Mendoza's very will was swaying them. The moment of our success was passing. Once let it slip, and all the king's horses could not bring it back to power again."

"Go on, señora."

"Then I used a letter which Señor Carillo recently sent me--not reading it, but interpreting into its contents a meaning which might be fairly given, though I think it overtranslated the writer's position. The smoldering enthusiasm of our señors blazed again.

"Still Mendoza held them. I began to fear that nothing would come of the meeting which had begun so auspiciously."

Farquharson was very intent.

"Perhaps you remember, Captain, reading in your school days from that old Latin lesson book, 'Viri Romæ,' how the cackling of geese saved Rome?"

"Assuredly," laughed Farquharson.

"Well, a game of cards saved us last night. My brother-in-law had suffered defeat at cribbage, and consequently was piqued. I had, some time ago, broached him on the subject of our work here, and he was not favorable. So I said nothing more to him. My brother-in-law rates most highly his proficiency at cribbage, and takes it very hard if defeated. The very-evident hold of Mendoza on the land barons seemed to increase his ill-humor, and straightway he, acting-governor as he is, declared for England."

"Extraordinary, señora! Most extraordinary!"

"His words threw the Californians into a frenzy. They cast aside all restraint, and boldly declared for an English protectorate.

"Young Peralta, with the Señors Hernandez and Valencia, were appointed a committee to meet the British representatives at Monterey, and to arrange for the fleet to take possession of the capital. I would rather they had waited for this till we had brought Baja California to the same conviction of mind that our friends reached last night at Mendoza's; but I thought it wiser not to oppose. 'Better a bird in the hand than two in the bush,' Captain."

"Yes, señora."

"Now, I'm sure Padre Osuna can sway our southern friends as he pleases, but the friar must have time. If this committee comes in communication with our admiral now, and he takes over Monterey, Northern California will applaud, but--Southern California may rise in rebellion."

"Yes, yes."

"Then, our admiral must not be found until we judge the time is ready. Keep him away from Monterey until all sections will welcome his coming to raise the British flag on Monterey castle."

"Of course our government expects us to do our part before summoning Admiral Fairbanks to do his. The Admiral will not appear officially until that time."

"You have the idea, my Captain. The committee goes to Monterey, when it chooses; the fleet comes when we choose."

"Will Mendoza and the others like-minded make any counter move? Could you determine anything as to that?"

"No, nothing, possibly because they may have nothing in mind to do. I spoke both to Zelaya and to Higuera. I think, Captain, they are an army with guns spiked. Yet, we must not relax until California becomes British territory."

"You say truly, señora. Admiral Fairbanks's fleet reached San Diego last week. Shortly he will anchor in the little bay north of Yerba Buena, where Francis Drake is believed to have sojourned. We will keep in touch with Fairbanks, and his ships will take possession of this province when the right moment comes; that is, when the people call aloud for it."

"A wise captain!"

"Tell me, señora, what of Morando? We have thought it well to bring high office within his reach. Now, what was his part in last night's victory?"

"He favors retaining the old ideals which Spain presented to all the New World provinces that she has settled."

"Yes, yes; let them be retained. But the present and great question? Did he stand by your side or Mendoza's?"

The lady bit her lip. "His steps found middle ground."

"Zounds; lady! Do you mean he is half-hearted?"

"I will tell you, señor. He is a Spaniard who has left the mother country for this wider field; nevertheless, he is a Spaniard, and he can never become English."

"He is welcome to remain the Spaniard in sentiment. Politically, however, he can be English. Is he different from the scores who last night declared for England?"

She did not reply.

"Does he look for a government different from the one to which his California brethren enthusiastically turn?"

Señora Valentino colored. "Captain Morando last night promised me to stand by Castilian manhood and womanhood. Hand and glove he declared it. Further he did not go. Try as I might he advanced nothing. The ruling thought of the hour passed him by."

"You astonish me."

"He is as deeply in love with Carmelita Mendoza as ever. His feet press after her everywhere." The señora's own foot tapped the floor impatiently.

"For this reason he favors Mendoza's reactionary tactics, you think?"

"I think his mind has never got very far beyond the fair Carmelita herself."

"A young and handsome fellow, my señora, makes love as easily as he talks. About as easily is it accepted--and forgotten."

"I do not think Morando's attitude toward the Señorita Mendoza can thus be described."

"Quite possibly, señora, quite possibly. Now, we had determined--it was your suggestion, by the way--to make this young man governor and commander here when the time comes. A splendid idea! All California will be proud of their handsome and brilliant leader. Our English colonists, when they arrive, will admire the soldier. A future of great usefulness and power awaits him. Why not find occasion, as you know him well, to tell him of these things, and make him one of us?"

"It is in vain."

"And why?"

"I did tell him. We rode together from Mission San José to this place."

"What did he say?"

"He said he contemplates soon leaving California forever."

"Most unaccountable, señora, most unaccountable! But--a man like Morando does not cast aside such prospects of high honors and power unless some strong counter attraction prompts him. Well--if he leaves, we must find someone to take his place."

Farquharson arose. "I hope your hand will not trouble you seriously. When do you return to Monterey?"

"I remain a day or two with the Calderons, then I go home."

"Allow me to congratulate you again on your success of last night. Directly I see Fairbanks I will send or bring you word. Good morning, señora. My best wishes to you."

The lady bade him farewell and watched him mount, the voluble Brown declaring, "These roses have spread out two inches while you've been gone, Cap'."

She waved another farewell, and turned again to the reception room. "I win provinces," she thought, "yet I am alone, alone. People crowd around me, yet am I lonely. I envy the peona we met this morning. I envy her the brood of pocos niños, her absent husband, and, above all, God of my soul! her contentment. If the world were mine I would give it for that!"

She went slowly to her room and closed the door, then turned to the mirror. It showed the faultless face and form of a beautiful woman. "It is all to win provinces!--nothing but--provinces."

She remained long in thought.

"Nothing but provinces!"