X.

  Casa Grande,[A] the mansion of the Iturbi y Moncadas in Santa Barbara,stood at the right of the Presidio, facing the channel. A mile behind,under the shadow of the gaunt rocky hills curving about the valley,was the long white Mission, with its double towers, corridor of manyarches, and sloping roof covered with red tiles. Between was the wildvalley where cattle grazed among the trees and the massive bowlders.The red-tiled white adobe houses of the Presidio and of the littletown clustered under its wing, the brown mud huts of the Indians, weregrouped in the foreground of the deep valley.

  The great house of the Iturbi y Moncadas, erected in the first yearsof the century, was built about three sides of a court, measuring onehundred feet each way. Like most of the adobes of its time, it hadbut one story. A wide pillared corridor, protected by a slopingroof, faced the court, which was as bare and hard as the floor of aball-room. Behind the dwelling were the manufactories and huts of theIndian retainers. Don Guillermo Iturbi y Moncada was the magnate ofthe South. His ranchos covered four hundred thousand acres; hishorses and cattle were unnumbered. His Indians, carpenters, coopers,saddlers, shoemakers, weavers, manufacturers of household staples,supplied the garrison and town with the necessaries of life; he alsodid a large trading business in hides and tallow. Rumor had it that inthe wooden tower built against the back of the house he kept gold bythe bushel-basketful; but no one called him miser, for he gave thepoor of the town all they ate and wore, and kept a supply of drugs fortheir sick. So beloved and revered was he that when earthquakes shookthe town, or fires threatened it from the hills, the poor ran in abody to the court-yard of Casa Grande and besought his protection.They never passed him without saluting to the ground, nor his housewithout bending their heads. And yet they feared him, for he was anirascible old gentleman at times, and thumped unmercifully when in atemper. Chonita, alone, could manage him always.

  When I returned to Santa Barbara with Chonita after her visit toMonterey, the yellow fruit hung in the padres' orchard, the grass wasburning brown, sky and water were the hard blue of metal.

  The afternoon of our arrival, Don Guillermo, Chonita, and I were onthe long middle corridor of the house: in Santa Barbara one lived inthe air. The old don sat on the long green bench by the sala door. Hisheavy, flabby, leathery face had no wrinkles but those which curvedfrom the corners of the mouth to the chin. The thin upper lip washabitually pressed hard against the small protruding under one, themouth ending in straight lines which seemed no part of the lips. Hissmall slanting eyes, usually stern, could snap with anger, as they didto-day. The nose rose suddenly from the middle of his face; it mighthave been applied by a child sculpturing with putty; the flat bridgewas crossed by erratic lines. A bang of grizzled hair escaped from theblack silk handkerchief wound as tightly as a turban about his head.He wore short clothes of dark brown cloth, the jacket decoratedwith large silver buttons, a red damask vest, shoes of embroidereddeer-skin, and a cravat of fine linen.

  Chonita, in a white gown, a pale-green reboso about her shoulders, herarms crossed, her head thoughtfully bent forward, walked slowly up anddown before him.

  "Holy God!" cried the old man, pounding the floor with his stick."That they have dared to arrest my son!--the son of Guillermo Iturbi yMoncada! That Alvarado, my friend and thy host, should have permittedit!"

  "Do not blame Alvarado, my father. Remember, he must listen to theDepartmental Junta; and this is their work." "Fool that I am!" sheadded to herself, "why do I not tell who alone is to blame? But I needno one to help me hate him!"

  "Is it true that this Estenega of whom I hear so much is a member ofthe Junta?"

  "It may be."

  "If so, it is he, he alone, who has brought dishonor upon my house.Again they have conquered!"

  "This Estenega I met--and who was _compadre_ with me for the baby--islittle in California, my father. If it be he who is a member of theJunta, he could hardly rule such men as Alvarado, Jimeno, and Castro.I saw no other Estenega."

  "True! I must have other enemies in the North; but I had not knownof it. But they shall learn of my power in the South. Don Juan de laBorrasca went to-day to Los Angeles with a bushel of gold to bail myson, and both will be with us the day after to-morrow. A curse uponCarillo--but I will speak of it no more. Tell me, my daughter,--Godof my soul, but I am glad to have thee back!--what thoughtest thou ofthis son of the Estenegas? Is it Ramon, Esteban, or Diego? I have seennone of them since they were little ones. I remember Diego well. Hehad lightning in his little tongue, and the devil in his brain. Iliked him, although he was the son of my enemy; and if he had been anIturbi y Moncada I would have made a great man of him. Ay! but he wasquick. One day in Monterey, he got under my feet and I fell flat, muchimperilling my dignity, for it was on Alvarado Street, and I was amember of the Territorial Deputation. I could have beaten him, I wasso angry; but he scrambled to his little feet, and, helping me tomine, he said, whilst dodging my stick, 'Be not angry, senor. I gavemy promise to the earth that thou shouldst kiss her, for all the worldhas prayed that she should not embrace thee for ninety years to come.'What could I do? I gave him a cake. Thou smilest, my daughter; butthou wilt not commend the enemy of thy house, no? Ah, well, we growless bitter as we grow old; and although I hated his father I likedDiego. Again, I remember, I was in Monterey, and he was there; hisfather and I were both members of the Deputation. Caramba! what hotwords passed between us! But I was thinking of Diego. I took a volumeof Shakespeare from him one day. 'Thou art too young to read suchbooks,' I said. 'A baby reading what the good priests allow not mento read. I have not read this heretic book of plays, and yet thou dostlie there on thy stomach and drink in its wickedness.' 'It is true,'he said, and how his steel eyes did flash; 'but when I am as old asyou, senor, my stomach will be flat and my head will be big. Thouart the enemy of my father, but--hast thou noticed?--thy stomach isbigger than his, and he has conquered thee in speech and in politicsmore times than thou hast found vengeance for. Ay!--and thy ranchoshave richer soil and many more cattle, but he has a library, DonGuillermo, and thou hast not.' I spanked him then and there; but Inever forgot what he said, and thou hast read what thou listed. Iwould not that the children of Alejandro Estenega should know morethan those of Guillermo Iturbi y Moncada."

  "Thou hast cause to be proud of Reinaldo, for he sparkles like thespray of the fountain, and words are to him like a shower of leaves inautumn. And yet, and yet," she added, with angry candor, "he has not abrain like Diego Estenega. _He_ is not a man, but a devil."

  "A good brain has always a devil at the wheel; sharp eyes have sharpernerves behind; and lightning from a big soul flashes fear into alittle one. Diego is not a devil,--I remember once I had a headache,and he bathed my head, and the water ran down my neck and gave me acold which put me to bed for a week,--but he is the devil's godson,and were he not the son of my enemy I should love him. His father wascruel and vicious--but smart, Holy Mary! Diego has his brain; but hehas, too, the kind heart and gentle manner--Ay! Holy God!--Come, come:here are the horses. Call Prudencia, and we will go to the bark andsee what the good captain has brought to tempt us."

  Four horses led by vaqueros, had entered the court-yard.

  "Prudencia," called Chonita.

  A door opened, and a girl of small figure, with solemn dark eyes andcream-like skin, her hair hanging in heavy braids to her feet, steppedupon the corridor, draping a pink reboso about her head.

  "I am here, my cousin," she said, walking with all the dignity of theSpanish woman, despite her plump and inconsiderable person. "Thou artrested, Dona Eustaquia? Do we go to the ship, my uncle? and shall webuy this afternoon? God of my life! I wonder has he a high comb tomake me look tall, and flesh-colored stockings. My own are gone withholes. I do not like white--"

  "Hush thy chatter," said her uncle. "How can I tell what the captainhas until I see? Come, my children."

  We sprang to our saddles, Don Guillermo mounted heavily, and wecantered to the beach, followed by the ox-cart which would carry thefragi
le cargo home. A boat took us to the bark, which sat motionlesson the placid channel. The captain greeted us with the lively welcomedue to eager and frequent purchasers.

  "Now, curb thy greed," cried Don Guillermo, as the girls dropped downthe companion-way, "for thou hast more now than thou canst wear infive years. God of my soul! if a bark came every day they would wantevery shred on board. My daughter could tapestry the old house withthe shawls she has."

  When I reached the cabin I found the table covered with silks,satins, crepe, shawls, combs, articles of lacquer-ware, jewels, silkstockings, slippers, spangled tulle, handkerchiefs, lace, fans. Thegirls' eyes were sparkling. Chonita clapped her hands and ran aroundthe table, pressing to her lips the beautiful white things she quicklysegregated, running her hand eagerly over the little slippers, hangingthe lace about her shoulders, twisting a rope of garnets in her yellowhair.

  "Never have they been so beautiful, Eustaquia! Is it not so, myPrudencia?" she cried to the girl, who was curled on one corner ofthe table, gloating over the treasures she knew her uncle's generositywould make her own. "Look, how these little diamonds flash! And theembroidery on this crepe!--a dozen eyes went out ay! yi! This satinis like a tile! These fans were made in Spain! This is as big as awindmill. God of my soul!"--she threw a handful of yellow sewing-silkupon a piece of white satin; "Ana shall embroider this gown,--thegolden poppies of California on a bank of mountain snow." She suddenlyseized a case of topaz and a piece of scarlet silk and ran over tome: I being a Monterena, etiquette forbade me to purchase in SantaBarbara. "Thou must have these, my Eustaquia. They will become theewell. And wouldst thou like any of my white things? Mary! but I amselfish. Take what thou wilt, my friend."

  To refuse would be to spoil her pleasure and insult her hospitality:so I accepted the topaz--of which I had six sets already--and thesilk,--whose color prevailed in my wardrobe,--and told her that Idetested white, which did not suit my weather-dark skin, and she wasas blind and as pleased as a child.

  "But come, come," she cried. "My father is not so generous when he hasto wait too long."

  She gathered the mass of stuff in her arms and staggered up thecompanion-way. I followed, leaving Prudencia raking the trove hershort arms would not hold.

  "Ay, my Chonita!" she wailed, "I cannot carry that big piece of pinksatin and that vase. And I have only two pairs of slippers and onefan. Ay, Cho-n-i-i-ta, look at those shawls! Mother of God, supposeValencia Menendez comes--"

  "Do not weep on the silk and spoil what thou hast," called downChonita from the top step. "Thou shalt have all thou canst wear for ayear."

  She reached the deck and stood panting and imperious before herfather. "All! All! I must have all!" she cried. "Never have they beenso fine, so rich."

  "Holy Mary!" shrieked Don Guillermo. "Dost thou think I am made ofdoubloons, that thou wouldst buy a whole ship's cargo? Thou shalt havea quarter; no more,--not a yard!"

  "I will have all!" And the stately daughter of the Iturbi y Moncadasstamped her little foot upon the deck.

  "A third,--not a yard more. And diamonds! Holy Heaven! There isnot gold enough in the Californias to feed the extravagance of theSenorita Dona Chonita Iturbi y Moncada."

  She managed to bend her body in spite of her burden, her eyes flashingsaucily above the mass of tulle which covered the rest of her face.

  "And not fine raiment enough in the world to accord with the stateof the only daughter of the Senor Don Guillermo Iturbi y Moncada, thedelight and the pride of his old age. Wilt thou send these things tothe North, to be worn by an Estenega? Thy Chonita will cry her eyesso red that she will be known as the ugly witch of Santa Barbara, andCasa Grande will be like a tomb."

  "Oh, thou spoilt baby! Thou wilt have thy way--" At this momentPrudencia appeared. Nothing whatever could be seen of her small personbut her feet; she looked like an exploded bale of goods. "What! what!"gasped Don Guillermo. "Thou little rat! Thou wouldst make a Christmasdoll of thyself with satin that is too heavy for thy grandmother, andeke out thy dumpy inches with a train? Oh, Mother of God!" He turnedto the captain, who was smoking complacently, assured of the issue."I will let them carry these things home; but to-morrow one-half, atleast, comes back." And he stamped wrathfully down the deck.

  "Send the rest," said Chonita to the captain, "and thou shalt have abag of gold to-night."

  [Footnote A: In writing of Casa Grande and its inmates, no referenceto the distinguished De la Guerra family of Santa Barbara is intended,beyond the description of their house and state and of the generalcharacteristics of the founder of the family fortunes in California.]