Chapter XIX

SEÑORA VALENTINO AND CAPTAIN MORANDO
CONTINUE CONVERSATION

"Saul has slain his thousands, but David his tens of thousands. I greet you, Captain Morando."

Morando bowed.

"A chair, Captain. My good brother-in-law the Colonel Barcelo awakes soon, I'm sure."

"If you do not mind, Señora Valentino, let us walk up and down this wide veranda. I think you were doing so a moment ago."

"Quite right, Señor Captain."

The señora and the soldier were on a long balcony in the second story of the Barcelo mansion. It ran along the street side of the house and across one end. The cool wind from the Monterey Bay crept along the street, mounted to the porch, and breathed gently there. The leaves crinkled under the chill and the flower petals shrank within themselves.

"Benito had strict orders to keep awake and bring you here the moment you arrived, Captain."

"The watchful sentinel was indeed awake and lost no time in showing me here, señora."

"At midnight I left the Colonel and his council. They had just finished reading the dispatches you sent. They expected you and your prisoners along shortly. They were to wait for you in these chairs, but I fancy the cool morning invited them within. I fancy, again, one could easily find the Colonel and his council." She shrugged and laughed. They paused just opposite a wide-open door. Within were several men, in easy chairs, fast asleep. Colonel Barcelo, especially, was breathing stoutly. Two soldiers, evidently detailed as orderlies, were on guard. They rose from their chairs, saluted the Captain, and again seated themselves, all silently as if in pantomime.

The señora and the Captain continued their walk.

"I expected to arrive here much sooner, but had difficulty in getting enough horses. We were obliged to sequester a number from the Mission Santa Clara. Many mounts, as well as many men, were killed or maimed in the fight, and we had nearly two hundred prisoners to transport to the military prison here."

"Ah, Captain, my heart rejoices in your victory and in your safety. Do you soldiers ever think that while you are away fighting we women are home inactive, save in prayer, waiting, longing for word of you, yet dreading to hear it when it comes? In the rush of battle, amigo, does one little thought ever go back to these waiting ones?"

"My good señora, not a moment since I left you two days ago has the thought of one woman been absent from me. Yesterday, in that desperate hand-to-hand fight, time after time we were hard pressed, and the memory-picture of her moved my soul and placed a giant's strength in my arm. The men caught my spirit."

"The thought of one woman, Captain?"

"Yes, señora. It may be women little realize the part they have in bringing to success many a perilous enterprise."

"It is good to hear you say that, my Captain."

"Señora, often when we are most occupied there runs in us an undercurrent of thought which reaches a surer conclusion, perhaps, than could our conscious reason. In these past busy hours my deeper self has lived again and again in the words you and I spoke that morning in the reception room below. When opportunity comes I shall give you further confidences of my heart."

"I am greatly complimented by what you tell me."

"Had I but time that morning I should have gone to greater length. My dear señora, a common bond unites you and me. Providence, I doubt not, has brought us together in understanding, after all these years, that we may help each other."

"Captain, I--I feel--I need help. And you--you----"

"My good señora, I shall give help as I can. From you I ask the same consideration. That morning I was about to say to you----"

The church bell rang. The hour was six, the time for the morning Angelus.

"The angel of the Lord declared unto Mary," Colonel Barcelo's voice repeated half sleepily. The soldiers and the council all joined in the morning prayer.

"I must have nodded," the Colonel added. "A moment ago I was the only one awake around here, but I didn't care to disturb these civilians who aren't accustomed to night duty," looking indulgently at his council. "But as for the soldiers," glaring at the orderlies, "why, they simply are no soldiers at all. Many's the time I've gone eighty hours without sleep, eighty hours, señors! and never closing an eye. Why, bless my soul! here is Morando, a trifle dusty and smoke-stained, but still fresh as a rose. Congratulation, good Captain! I'm glad you rubbed out that rascally Indian. Why, here's Señora Valentino also! I suppose the Angelus bell aroused you. Well, I was awake. Sit down, Morando. Take this easy chair."

The Colonel arose and walked about the room. "Well, tell us about the fight--I'm beginning to get hungry."

"Lieutenant Mesa, who came to you last night, told you, I'm sure, all there is to tell. One of the prisoners, however, told me something interesting about the Americano O'Donnell and Yoscolo."

"Ah! O'Donnell," from Señora Valentino. "Let us hear about it."

"I wondered why Yoscolo deserted the coast range whence he could have easily reached the high Sierras and safety," began Morando. "This Indian prisoner told me that Yoscolo abandoned the Sierras for fear of O'Donnell himself."

"For fear of O'Donnell!" Barcelo ejaculated in contempt. "That Indian was simply talking nonsense. I've seen this O'Donnell around here--some nondescript fellow. Besides, O'Donnell wasn't in the Sierras at all, but right along with you. Well, we'll all feel better when we've had some breakfast."

"What further did your informant say, Captain Morando?" Señora Valentino persisted.

"Yoscolo thought O'Donnell had gone to the far-western plains. The Americano is most influential there with high chiefs. So, our Yoscolo intended to raid the missions and haciendas, hold Spanish men and women for ransom and make his way with the proceeds to Northern Mexico, all before O'Donnell should return. He knew the Americano could overwhelm him with those plains natives, if he wished. But O'Donnell had not yet gone to the plains. Yoscolo only became aware of this after he began raiding. Accordingly, he left the neighborhood of danger, and was on his way along the coast to Mexico, for safety, when we overtook him at Los Gatos."

"Simply preposterous! Simply preposterous! what the Indian told you," puffed Barcelo. "Well, it was as good a way as any to pass a weary journey. But let's go to breakfast."

"Whither went O'Donnell after the action at Los Gatos?" still persisted Señora Valentino.

"After giving aid to the wounded in San José he rode to the house of Señor Mendoza."

Señor Barcelo appeared on the veranda.

"Crisostimo, will you kindly tell our amigos that breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes? Silvia and you, Crisostimo, help me show them rooms where they may prepare. Sister, love, have a care for your arm. Come, amigos, come."

The guests were soon disposed to their rooms.

As they left the breakfast table, Señora Valentino said to Morando: "Captain, shall we not continue the conversation interrupted by the ringing of the Angelus?"

"With great pleasure, my señora."

"Let us go into the courtyard garden."

Colonel Barcelo and his councilors returned to the upper veranda.

"I'll have to be at the castle when Morando turns these prisoners over to me formally, and withdraws his own men. I'll see to it that horses will be there for us, and we'll go out on a tour of inspection," Barcelo said.

"How softly the morning light comes into the patio, Captain!" as they were sitting together under a locust tree.

"I can scarcely realize that the same sun shines here and on that scene of death of few hours' ride away. As I sit here with you in this quiet and peace the other seems a dream, an awful dream, señora."

"But you are with me, and yesterday has gone the way of all other days that are past. The future, if we are willing, may hold many happy years for us."

"I pray so, my good señora."

The señora lowered her eyes, and bowed gently.

"Our lives are empty; yours, because it has never been filled. Hence there is greater hope for you than for me."

"What do you mean, Captain?"

"You have been frank with me. I will be the same with you. Fate brought me to far-away California. I chanced to meet the one who from the first filled my heart, my soul. I sang beneath her window. She laughed. Sometimes I thought she encouraged me. Sometimes, again, she flouted me. Nevertheless, I dared hope she cared for me. Now I know she did not."

The Captain paused in thought.

The señora did not speak.

Finally Morando continued: "More than once I tried to tell her I loved her, but she held me at arm's length. The night of the baile, at Mission San José, I believed my opportunity had come. She listened to me, favorably I was sure; but there was an interruption from her partner for the next dance. When again she was alone I pressed my suit. It was in vain. She seemed changed--offended. Yesterday I was at her father's house. I talked with her. At first she listened most graciously; then, in some way, I offended her still more. I am speaking of the Señorita Carmelita Mendoza, señora."

"Captain," came slowly from the señora, "we were speaking the other day of the face of the window pane in old Pilar Convent."

"I shall never forget, my dear señora."

"That face called in you to the primeval love every man has for an ideal woman. For her your heart had been unconsciously searching. The Señorita Mendoza seemed to you to fulfill that ideal. You went to her with words of love. She could not reciprocate. Does it not mean that you must look beyond the beautiful child of Señor Mendoza for the realization of your heart's desires?"

Morando looked straight at the señora. "Señora Valentino, I love the Señorita Mendoza with every fiber of my being. I shall never cease to love her. I could not bear to stay here and see her the wife of another man. Therefore I have resolved to go away.

"But, my dear Captain, time has worked wonders. It may do so for you."

Morando shook his head. "Nothing can alter my love for the señorita doña."

"Ah, Captain! You believe that the señorita doña fulfills your ideal; yet you cannot wed her. There may be another destined to fit into the high place to which you, not knowing, have called this child. Think, my friend, may it not be so?"

"It cannot be. Señora Valentino, now that I have lost Señorita Mendoza, the memory-pictures of her come to me with tenfold intensity. I saw her, as if near me, on the battlefield. I dreamed of her in the short hours of sleep that have been mine since I last saw her. Yes, dear friend, even now, as you sit by, with words of comfort for me, I see plainly the face and form of Carmelita Mendoza. She seems even more present to me than are you."

The señora arose.

He stood beside her. "I thank you for listening to me. Wheresoever I may be I shall never forget you."

"Let us again be seated."

"Thank you, señora."

"I soon return to Europe," the señora said. "My work here is really done. Great Britain gains another province, and will be correspondingly thankful to her who was useful in bringing about the transfer. Good Captain, I have other claims on Great Britain's good will. Should you desire some important post on the continent, or elsewhere, I can see to it that the diplomatic interest of England is used to secure it for you. Since you feel you must leave here, my Captain, return to Europe, take what good fortune sends you, and again you will be the knight of the Lady of the Window Pane, and she will rejoice in the victories you win for her."

Morando lifted the señora's hand to his lips. "Do not think I am unmindful, kind friend, of your goodness to me. I appreciate it most sincerely. But, señora, I could not accept your generous offices."

"But, Captain, there are many aspirants for the high places. Worth is but one of the requirements. Another is to have a friend at court. I can point out to you the short paths to preferment, and can assist you. I soon return to Europe. Why not you do the same?"

"Again I thank you, señora. Europe is too crowded; therefore I left it. I could not accept preferment there, or here, unless I had earned it. South America offers to me the most inviting field at this time. Before long I shall turn my steps in that direction."

"You are diffident, Captain, and overscrupulous. Europe is the world. Go there. Accept what offers itself, and you will find your capabilities are equal to the task."

Again Morando shook his head. "Señora Valentino, there is one thing that I would like to ask you to do for me."

"Yes, Captain."

"I seem to make matters worse by speaking to Señorita Mendoza myself. Would you go to her and tell her for me that--O, that--that I didn't know of her engagement to Peralta, and that I had no wish to annoy her, and all that? Explain it all to her. You will know better what to say than I can tell you--only tell her that, no matter what, I shall always love her truly, and that I shall never love anyone else." He bowed his head in his hands, overcome by his own thoughts.

She arose quickly, her eyes striking fire. He was too preoccupied to notice. Her hands clenched and then relaxed, in excess of nervous tension.

"You wish me to tell the señorita that you love her, that you meant no offense in so telling her----"

Colonel Barcelo's loud voice called, "Morando! Morando! I say, Morando!"

The Captain aroused himself. "Here, Colonel. Here in the garden."

The Colonel rushed into the patio, mopping his face with his handkerchief.

"What do you suppose that Stanislaus of yours has done now, Captain? What do you suppose he has done, I say?"

"What has he done, Colonel?"

"Done! Why, my council and I were to inspect some irrigating ditches in the hills, to see the dams were well built and all that, so the town would be in no danger of inundation. Do you understand?" The Colonel glared around. "Well, the horses were tied outside the castle for the use of myself and my council in this work of inspection--in this work of inspection, do you understand? Well, your men looked bedraggled and tired, Morando. I didn't wait for you to come, but relieved them and put my own soldiers on guard."

"But the prisoners----" Morando began.

"That's just what I'm coming to. Do be patient! In the exchange of guards some of the prisoners walked out--coolest thing I ever heard of--took rifles from the racks, and actually mounted the horses in front of the castle, and rode away! I tell you, _rode away_!"

Barcelo paused for breath. "I saw them going and gave the alarm," he went on, after a moment. "Yes, I saw that rascal Stanislaus riding--riding away to safety. I saw it myself--I saw----"

Further words failed the Colonel.

The sound of cavalry was heard in the street.

"The pursuit!" cried Morando and started for the patio gate.

"Yes, yes, the pursuit!" panted Barcelo and rolled after him.

Señora Valentino listened while Morando's clarion voice ordered the movements of the cavalry, and heard the noise of the horses' hoofs die out in a distant rumble.

"Our Colonel was out of breath and could not order the march of his men, therefore our valiant Captain does it for him!" she thought. Then she smiled bitterly. "I have laid bare my very soul before that man, and he could see nothing. He saw only that child, Carmelita Mendoza. What fatality is it that closes the eyes of the one man to me and makes him see only this miss of the province?"

Again, after a little: "Yes, I'll see his señorita for him, tell her he loves her, and doesn't mean his blunderings. Yes, I'll tell her. The fool! Yes, I'll----"

The señora walked away, her eyes glittering.