CHAPTER XIX

  He was all ready to leave for Arriba County when one more black mischancecame to bedevil him. Cortez came into the office with a worried look inhis usually unrevealing eyes.

  "There's a woman in town looking for you," he announced. "A Mexican girlfrom the country. She was asking everybody she met where to find you. Youought to be more careful. I took her to my house and promised I wouldbring you right away."

  Cortez lived in a little square box of a brick cottage, which he had beenbuying slowly for the past ten years and would probably never own. In itsparlour, gaudy with cheap, new furniture, Ramon confronted CatalinaArchulera. She was clad in a dirty calico dress, and her shoes werecovered with the dust of long tramping, as was the black shawl about herhead and shoulders. Once he had thought her pretty, but now she looked tohim about as attractive as a clod of earth.

  She stood before him with downcast eyes, speechless with misery andembarassment. At first he was utterly puzzled as to what could havebrought her there. Then with a queer mixture of anger and pity anddisgust, he noticed the swollen bulk of her healthy young body.

  "Catalina! Why did you come here?" he blurted, all his self-possessiongone for a moment.

  "My father sent me," she replied, as simply as though that were anall-sufficient explanation.

  "But why did you tell him {~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} it was I? Why didn't you come to me first?"

  "He made me tell," Catalina rolled back her sleeve and showed some bluebruises. "He beat me," she explained without emotion.

  "What did he tell you to say?"

  "He told me to come to you and show you how I am.{~HORIZONTAL ELLIPSIS~} That is all."

  Ramon swore aloud with a break in his voice. For a long moment he stoodlooking at her, bewildered, disgusted. It somehow seemed to him utterlywrong, utterly unfair that this thing should have happened, and above allthat it should have happened now. He had taken other girls, as had everyother man, but never before had any such hard luck as this befallen him.And now, of all times!

  In Catalina he felt not the faintest interest. Before him was the proofthat once he had desired her. Now that desire had vanished as completelyas his childhood.

  And she was Archulera's daughter. That was the hell of it! Archulera wasthe one man of all men whom he could least afford to offend. And he knewjust how hard to appease the old man would be. For among the Mexicans,seduction is a crime which, in theory and often in practice, can be atonedonly by marriage or by the shedding of blood. Marriage is the door tofreedom for the women, but virginity is a thing greatly revered andcarefully guarded. The unmarried girl is always watched, often locked up,and he who appropriates her to his own purpose is violating a sacred rightand offending her whole family.

  In the towns, all this has been somewhat changed, as the customs of anycountry suffer change in towns. But old Archulera, living in his lonelycanyon, proud of his high lineage, would be the hardest of men to appease.And meantime, what was to be done with the girl?

  It was this problem which brought his wits back to him. A plan began toform in his mind. He saw that in sending her to him Archulera had reallyplayed into his hands. The important thing now was to keep her away fromher father. He looked at her again, and the pity which he always felt forweaklings welled up in him. He knew many Mexican ranches in the valleywhere he could keep her in comfort for a small amount. That would serve adouble purpose. The old man would be kept in ignorance as to what Ramonintended, and the girl would be saved from further punishment. Meantime,he could send Cortez to see Archulera and find out what money would do.

  The whole affair was big with potential damage to him. Some of his enemiesmight find out about it and make a scandal. Archulera might come around inan ugly mood and make trouble. The girl might run away and come to townagain. And yet, now that he had a plan, he was all confidence.

  Cortez kept Catalina at his house while Ramon drove forty miles up thevalley and made arrangements with a Mexican who lived in an isolatedplace, to care for her for an indefinite period. When he took Catalinathere, he told her on the way simply that she was to wait until he camefor her, and above all, that she must not try to communicate with herfather. The girl nodded, looking at him gravely with her large soft eyes.Her lot had always been to obey, to bear burdens and to suffer. The stuffof rebellion and of self-assertion was not in her, but she could enduremisfortune with the stoical indifference of a savage. Indeed, she was inall essentials simply a squaw. During the ride to her new home she seemedmore interested in the novel sensation of travelling at thirty miles anhour than in her own future. She clung to the side of the car with bothhands, and her face reflected a pathetic mingling of fear and delight.

  The house of Nestor Gomez to which Ramon took her was prettily set in agrove of cottonwoods, with white hollyhocks blooming on either side of thedoor, and strings of red chile hanging from the rafter-ends to dry. Half adozen small children played about the door, the younger ones naked and allof them deep in dirt. A hen led her brood of chicks into the house on aforay for crumbs, and in the shade of the wall a mongrel bitch luxuriouslygave teat to four pups. Bees humming about the hollyhocks bathed the scenein sleepy sound.

  Catalina, utterly unembarassed, shook hands with her host and hostess inthe limp, brief way of the Mexicans, and then, while Ramon talked withthem, sat down in the shade, shook loose her heavy black hair and began tocomb it. A little half-naked urchin of three years came and stood beforeher. She stopped combing to place her hands on his shoulders, and the tworegarded each other long and intently, while Catalina's mouth framed asmile of dull wonder.

  As Ramon drove back to town, he marvelled that he should ever have desiredthis clod of a woman; but he was grateful to her for the bovine calm withwhich she accepted things. He would visit her once in a while. He feltpretty sure that he could count on her not to make trouble.

  Afterward he discussed the situation with Cortez. The latter was worried.

  "You better look out," he counselled. "You better send him a message youare going to marry her. That will keep him quiet for a while. When he getsover being mad, maybe you can make him take a thousand dollars instead."

  Ramon shook his head. If he gave Archulera to understand that he wouldmarry the girl, word of it might get to town.

  "He'll never find her," he said confidently. "I'll do nothing unless hecomes to me."

  "I don't know," Cortez replied doubtfully. "Is he a _penitente_?"

  "Yes; I think he is," Ramon admitted.

  "Then maybe he'll find her pretty quick. There are some _penitentes_ stillin the valley and all _penitentes_ work together. You better look out."

 
Harvey Fergusson's Novels