Rezanov

  XV

  The Chamberlain was in a towering bad humor. As he made his appearanceat least two hours earlier than he was expected, he found the decks ofthe Juno covered with the skins of sea-dogs, foxes, and birds. He hadheard Langsdorff go to his cabin later than usual the night before, andthat his pet aversion was the cause of a fresh grievance, but hastenedthe eruption of his smouldering resentment toward life in general.

  "What does this mean?" he roared to the sailor on watch. "Clear themoff--overboard, every one of them. What are you staring at?"

  The sailor, who was a "Bostonian," an inheritance with the ship, openedhis mouth in favor of the unfortunate professor, but like his mates, hestood in much awe of a master whose indulgence demanded implicitobedience in return. Without further ado, he flung the skins into thesea.

  Rezanov, to do him justice, would not have acted otherwise had he risenin the best of tempers. He had inflicted himself with the society ofthe learned doctor that he might always have a physician and surgeon athand, as well as an interpreter where Latin was the one door ofcommunication. He should pay him handsomely, make him a present inaddition to the sum agreed upon, but he had not the least intention ofgiving up any of the Juno's precious space to the vagaries of ascientist, nor to submit to the pollution of her atmosphere.Langsdorff was his creature, and the sooner he realized the fact thebetter.

  "Remember," he said to the sailor, "no more of this, or it will be theworse for you-- What is this?" He had come upon a pile of ducks,gulls, pelicans, and other aquatic birds. "Are these the cook's or theprofessor's?"

  "The professor's, Excellency."

  "Overboard." And the birds followed the skins.

  Rezanov turned to confront the white and trembling Langsdorff. Thenaturalist was enfolded in a gorgeous Japanese dressing-gown, purplebrocade embroidered with gold, that he had surreptitiously bought inthe harbor of Nagasaki. To Rezanov it was like a red rag to a bull;but the professor was oblivious at the moment of the tactless garment.His eyes were glaring and the extended tip of his nose worked like aknife trying to leap from its sheath. But although he occasionallyventured upon a retort when goaded too far in conversation, he was ableto curb his just indignation when the Chamberlain was in a bad temper.In that vague gray under winking stars in their last watch, Rezanovseemed to tower six feet above him.

  "Excellency," he murmured.

  "Well?"

  "My--my specimens."

  "Your what?"

  "The cause of science is very dear to me, Excellency."

  "So it is to me--in its proper place. Were those skins yours?" Hisvoice became very suave. "I am sorry you should have fatigued yourselffor nothing, but I am forced to remind you that this is not anexpedition undertaken for the promotion of natural history. I am notviolating my part in the contract, I believe. Upon our arrival atSitka you are at liberty to remain as my guest and make use of thefirst boat that sails for this colony; but for the present I beg thatyou will limit yourself to the requirements of your position on mystaff."

  He turned his back and ordered a canoe to be lowered. Since thearrival of the Governor and Commandante, now three days ago, allrestrictions on his liberty had been removed, and the phrases ofhospitality were a trifle less meaningless. He had been asked to givehis word to keep away from the fortifications, and as he knew quite asmuch of the military resources of the country as he desired, he hadmerely suppressed a smile and given his promise.

  This morning he wanted nothing but a walk. He had slept badly, theblood was in his head, his nerves were on edge. He went rapidly alongthe beach and over the steep hills that led to the north-eastern pointof the peninsula. But he had taken the walk before and did not turnhis head to look at the great natural amphitheater formed by the innerslopes of those barren heights, so uninteresting of outline from thewater. Once when Luis had left him to go down with an order to theBattery of Yerba Buena, he had examined it critically and concludedthat never had there been so fine a site for a great city. Nor a morebeautiful, with the broken line of the San Bruno mountains in thedistance and a glimpse of the Mission valley just beyond this vastcolosseum, whose steep imposing lines were destined by nature to be setwith palaces and bazaars, minarets and towers and churches, with athousand gilded domes and slender crosses glittering in the crystal airand sunlight. If not another Moscow, then an Irkutsk in his day, atleast.

  But he did not give the chosen site of his city a glance to-day,although in this gray air before dawn when mystery and imagination mostclosely embrace, he might at another time have forgotten himself in oneof those fits of dreaming that slipped him out of touch with realities,and sometimes precipitated action in a manner highly gratifying to hisenemies.

  But much as he loved Russia, there were times when he loved his own waymore, and since the arrival of Governor Arrillaga he was beginning tofeel as he had felt in the harbor of Nagasaki. Not a word since thatfirst interview had been said of his cargo; nor even of the treaty,although nothing could have been more natural than the discussion ofdetails. Whenever he had delicately broached either subject, he hadbeen met with a polite indifference, that had little in common with thecordiality otherwise shown him. He foresaw that he might be obliged toreveal the more pressing object of his visit without further diplomacy,and the thought irritated him beyond endurance.

  Whether Concha were giving him her promised aid he had no means ofdiscovering, and herein lay another cause of his general vexation. Hehad dined every day at the Commandante's, danced there every night.Concha had been vivacious, friendly--impersonal. Not so much as acoquettish lift of the brow betrayed that the distinguished strangereclipsed the caballeros for the moment; nor a whispered word that heretained the friendship she had offered him on the day of theirmeeting. He had not, indeed, had a word with her alone. But hisinterest and admiration had deepened. It was evident that her fatherand the Governor adored her, would deny her little. Her attitude tothem was alternately that of the petted child and the chosen companion.As her mother was indisposed, she occupied her place at the table,presiding with dignity, guiding the conversation, revealing the raregift of making everyone appear at his best. In the evening she hadsometimes danced alone for a few moments, but more often with herRussian guests, and readily learning the English country dances theywere anxious to teach. Rezanov would have found the gay informality ofthese evenings delightful had his mind been at ease about his Sitkans,and Concha a trifle more personal. He had begun by suspecting that shewas maneuvering for his scalp, but he was forced to acquit her; for notonly did she show no provocative favor to another, but she seemed tohave gained in dignity and pride since his arrival, actually to havekissed her hand in farewell to the childhood he had been so slow indivining; grown--he felt rather than analyzed--above the pettiness ofcoquetry. Once more she had stirred the dormant ideals of his earlymanhood; there were moments when she floated before his inner vision asthe embodiment of the world's beauty. Nor ever had there been a womanborn more elaborately equipped for the position of a public man's mate;nor more ingenerate, perhaps, with the power to turn earth into heaven.

  He had wondered humorously if he were fallen in love, but, although heretained little faith in the activities of the heart after youth, hewas beginning seriously to consider the expedience of marrying ConchaArguello. He had not intended to marry again, and it was this old andpassionate love of personal freedom that alone held him back, fornothing would be so advantageous to the Russian colonies in theirpresent crisis as a strong individual alliance with California. ConchaArguello was the famous daughter of its first subject, and with thepowerful friends she would bring to her husband, the consummation ofends dearer to his heart than aught on earth would be a matter ofmonths instead of years. And he thrilled with pride as he thought ofConcha in St. Petersburg. Two years of court life and she would be oneof the greatest ladies in Europe. That he could win her he believed,and without undue vanity. He had much to offer an ambitious girlconscious of her superiority t
o the men of this province of Spain, andchafing at the prospect of a lifetime in a bountiful desert. His onlyhesitation lay in his own doubt if she were worth the loss of hisfreedom, and all that word involved to a man of his position andadventurous spirit.

  He shrugged his shoulders at this argument; he had walked off some ofhis ill-humor, and reverted willingly to a theme that alone had givenhim satisfaction during the past few days. At the same time he made amotion as if flinging aside an old burden.

  "It is time for such nonsense to end," he thought contemptuously. "Andin truth these three years should have wrought such changes in me Idoubt I should have patience for an hour of the old trifling. Mygreatest need from this time on, I fancy, is work. I could never beidle a month again. And when a man is in love with work--andpower--and has passed forty--does he want a constant companion? Thatis the point. At my time of life power exercises the most irresistibleand lasting of all fascinations. A man that wins it has little leftfor a woman."

  He had reached the summit of the rocky outpost; the highest of thehills where the peninsula turned abruptly to the south, and,scrupulously refraining from a downward glance at the Battery of YerbaBuena, stood looking out over the bay to the eastern mountains: dark,almost formless, wrapped in the intense and menacing mystery of thatlast hour before dawn.

  "Senor!" called a low cautious voice.

  Rezanov stepped hastily back from the point of the bluff and glancedabout in wonder, his pulses suddenly astir. But he could see no one.

  This time the direction was unmistakable, and he went to the edge ofthe plateau facing the south and looked over. Halfway down a shallowand almost perpendicular gully, he saw a girl forcing a mustang up theharsh, loose path. The girl's white and oval face looked from thefolds of a black reboso like the moon emerging from clouds, and itsyoung beauty was out of place in that wild and forbidding setting. Shereined in her horse as she caught his eye and beckoned superfluously;then guided her mustang to a little ledge where he could plant his feetfirmly, permitting her to reassume her usual pride of carriage andaverting the danger of a sudden scramble or need of assistance.

  As Rezanov reached her side, she gave him a grave and friendly smile,but no opportunity to kiss her hand.

  "I have followed your excellency," she said. "I saw you leave theJuno, and as I am often up at this hour, and as no one else ever is, myfather ignores the fact that I sometimes ride alone. I have never comeas far as this before, but there is something I wish to say to you, andthere is no opportunity at home. I asked Santiago to find me one lastnight, but he was in a bad temper and would not. Men! However--Isuppose you have heard nothing of the cargo?"

  "I have not," said Rezanov grimly, although acutely sensible that thesubject suited neither his mood nor the hour.

  "But the Governor has! Madre de Dios! all the women of the Presidioand the Mission have pestered him. They are sick with jealousy at theshawls you gave us that day--those that did not go to the ship. Howclever of your excellency to give us just enough for ourselves andnothing for our friends! And those that went want more and more. Theyhave called upon him--one, two, four, and alone. They have wept andscolded and pleaded. I did not know until yesterday that yourcommissary had also shown the things to the priests from SanJose--Father Jose Uria and Father Pedro de la Cueva. They and thepriests of San Francisco have argued with the Governor not once butthree times. Dios! how his poor excellency swore yesterday. Hethreatened to return at once to Monterey. I flew into a great rage andthreatened in turn to follow with all the other girls and all thepriests--vowed he should not have one moment of peace until that cargowas ours."

  "Well?" asked Rezanov sharply, in spite of his amusement.

  Concha shook her head. "When he does not swear, he answers only: 'Buyif you have the money. I have never broken a law of Spain, and I shallnot begin in my old age.' He knows well that we have no money to sendout of New Spain; but I have conceived a plan, senor. It is for you,not for me, to suggest it. You will never betray that I have been yourfriend, Excellency?"

  "I will swear it if you wish," said Rezanov frigidly.

  "Pardon, senor. If I thought you could I should not be here. Oneoften says such things. This is the plan: You shall suggest that webuy your wares, and that you buy again with our money. The dearGovernor only wants to save his conscience an ache, for we have drivenhim nearly distracted. I am sure he will consent, for you will knowhow to put it to him very diplomatically."

  "But if he refused to understand, or his conscience remained obdurate?I should then have neither cargo nor ballast."

  "He would never trick a guest, nor would he let the money go out of thecountry. And he knows well how much we need your cargo and longs to beable to state in his reports that he sold you a hold full ofbreadstuffs. Moreover, I think the time has come to tell him of thedistress at Sitka. He is very soft-hearted and is now in thatdistracted state of mind when only one more argument is required. Ihope I have given you good advice, Excellency. It is the best I canthink of. I have given it much thought, and the terrible state ofthose miserable creatures has kept me awake many nights. I must returnnow. Will your excellency kindly remain here until I am well on myway?--and then return by the beach? I shall go as I came, through thevalley. Neither of us can be seen from the Battery."

  "I will obey all your instructions," said Rezanov. But he did not move,nor could the mustang. Concha smiled and pointed to the other side ofthe cleft, which was about as wide as a narrow street.

  "Pardon, senor, I cannot turn."

  For a moment Rezanov stared at her, through her. Then his heavy eyesopened and flashed. It seemed to him that for the first time he sawhow beautiful, how desirable she was, set in that gray volcanic rockwith the heavens gray above her, and the stars fading out. It was notthe bower he would have imagined for the wooing of a mate, but neithermoonlight nor the romantic glades of La Bellissima could have awakenedin him a passion so sudden and final. Her face between the black foldsturned whiter and she shrank back against the jagged wall: and when hiseyes flashed again with a wild eager hope she involuntarily crossedherself. He threw himself against the horse and snatched her down andkissed her as he had kissed no woman yet, recognizing her once for all.

  When he finally held her at arm's length for a moment he laughedconfusedly.

  "The Russian bear is no longer a figure of speech," he said. "Forgiveme. I forgot that you are as tender as you are strong."

  Her hands were tightly clasped against her breast and the breath wasshort in her throat, but she made no protest. Her eyes were radiant,her mouth was the only color in that gray dawn. In a moment she toolaughed.

  "Dios de mi alma! What will they say? A heretic! If Tamalpais fellinto the sea it would not make so great a sensation in this Californiaof ours where civilized man exists but to drive heathen souls into theone true church."

  "Will it matter to you? Are you strong enough? It will be only aquestion of time to win them over, if you are."

  She nodded emphatically. "I was born with strength. Now--Dios!--now Ican be stronger than the King of Spain himself, than the Governor, myparents and all the priests-- You would not become a Catholic?" sheasked abruptly.

  He shook his head, although he still smiled at her. "Not even for you."

  "No," she said thoughtfully. "I will confess--what matters it?--Ioften dreamed that this would come just because I believed it wouldnot. But why should one control the imagination when it alone can giveus happiness for a little while? I gave it rein, for I thought thatone-half of my life was to be passed in that unreal but by no meansniggardly world. And I thought of everything. To change your religionwould mean the ruin of your career; moreover, it is not a possibilityof your character. Were it I think I should not love you so much. Norcould I bear to think of any change in you. Only it will beharder--longer." Then she stretched out her hand, and closed andopened it slowly. The most obtuse could not have failed to read theold simile of the s
teel in the velvet. "I shall win because it is mynature--and my power--to hold what I grasp."

  "But if they persistently refuse--"

  "Dios!" she interrupted him. "Do you think that your love is greaterthan mine? I was born with a thousand years of love in me and had younot come I should have gone alone with my dreams to the grave. I amall women in one, not merely Concha Arguello, a girl of sixteen." Sheclasped her hands high above her head, lifting her eyes to the ashenvault so soon to yield to the gay brush of dawn.

  "Before all that great mystery," she said solemnly, "I give myself toyou forever, how much or how little that may mean here on earth.Forever."