CHAPTER VIII
When Faquita had made sure that her young mistress was so securelycloseted with Dona Maria that morning as to be inaccessible to curiouseyes and ears, she saw fit to bewail to her fellow-servants thisfurther evidence of the decay of the old feudal and patriarchal mutualfamily confidences. "Time was, thou rememberest, Pepita, when anaffair of this kind was openly discussed at chocolate with everybodypresent, and before us all. When Joaquin Padilla was shot at Monterey,it was the Dona herself who told us, who read aloud the lettersdescribing it and the bullet-holes in his clothes, and made it quite agala-day--and he was a first-cousin of Guitierrez. And now, when thisAmerican goat of a doctor is kicked to death by a mule, the family mustshut themselves up, that never a question is asked or answered." "Ay,"responded Pepita; "and as regards that, Sanchez there knows as much asthey do, for it was he that almost saw the whole affair."
"How?--sawest it?" inquired Faquita, eagerly.
"Why, was it not he that was bringing home Pereo, who had been lying inone of his trances or visions--blessed St. Antonio preserve us!" saidPepita, hastily crossing herself--"on Kooratora's grave, when theDoctor's mustang charged down upon them like a wild bull, and theDoctor's foot half out of the stirrups, and he not yet fast in hisseat. And Pereo laughs a wild laugh and says: 'Watch if the coyotedoes not drag yet at his mustang's heels;' and Sanchez ran and watchedthe Doctor out of sight, careering and galloping to his death!--ay, asPereo prophesied. For it was only half an hour afterward that Sanchezagain heard the tramp of his hoofs--as if it were here--and knowing ittwo miles away--thou understandest, he said to himself: 'It is over.'"
The two women shuddered and crossed themselves.
"And what says Pereo of the fulfillment of his prophecy?" askedFaquita, hugging herself in her shawl with a certain titillating shrugof fascinating horror.
"It is even possible he understands it not. Thou knowest how dazed anddumb he ever is after these visions--that he comes from them as onefrom the grave, remembering nothing. He has lain like a log all themorning."
"Ay; but this news should awaken him, if aught can. He loved not thissneaking Doctor. Let us seek him; mayhap, Sanchez may be there. Come!The mistress lacks us not just now; the guests are provided for. Come!"
She led the way to the eastern angle of the casa communicating by a lowcorridor with the corral and stables. This was the old "gate-keep" orquarters of the mayordomo, who, among his functions, was supposed toexercise a supervision over the exits and entrances of the house. Alarge steward's room or office, beyond it a room of general assembly,half guard-room, half servants' hall, and Pereo's sleeping-room,constituted his domain. A few peons were gathered in the hall near theopen door of the apartment where Pereo lay.
Stretched on a low pallet, his face yellow as wax, a light burningunder a crucifix near his head, and a spray of blessed palm, popularlysupposed to avert the attempts of evil spirits to gain possession ofhis suspended faculties, Pereo looked not unlike a corpse. Two muffledand shawled domestics, who sat by his side, might have been mourners,but for their voluble and incessant chattering.
"So thou art here, Faquita," said a stout virago. "It is a wonder thoucouldst spare time from prayers for the repose of the American Doctor'ssoul to look after the health of thy superior, poor Pereo! Is it, then,true that Dona Maria said she would have naught more to do with thedrunken brute of her mayordomo?"
The awful fascination of Pereo's upturned face did not prevent Faquitafrom tossing her head as she replied, pertly, that she was not there todefend her mistress from lazy gossip. "Nay, but WHAT said she?" askedthe other attendant.
"She said Pereo was to want for nothing; but at present she could notsee him."
A murmur of indignation and sympathy passed through the company. It wasfollowed by a long sigh from the insensible man. "His lips move," saidFaquita, still fascinated by curiosity. "Hush! he would speak."
"His lips move, but his soul is still asleep," said Sanchez,oracularly. "Thus they have moved since early morning, when I came tospeak with him, and found him lying here in a fit upon the floor. Hewas half dressed, thou seest, as if he had risen to go forth, and hadbeen struck down so--"
"Hush! I tell thee he speaks," said Faquita.
The sick man was faintly articulating through a few tiny bubbles thatbroke upon his rigid lips. "He--dared--me! He--said--I was old--tooold."
"Who dared thee? Who said thou wast too old?" asked the eager Faquita,bending over him.
"He, Koorotora himself! in the shape of a coyote."
Faquita fell back with a little giggle, half of shame, half of awe.
"It is ever thus," said Sanchez, sententiously; "it is what he saidlast night, when I picked him up on the mound. He will sleep now--thoushalt see. He will get no further than Koorotora and the coyote--andthen he will sleep."
And to the awe of the group, and the increased respect for Sanchez'swisdom, Pereo seemed to fall again into a lethargic slumber. It waslate in the evening when he appeared to regain perfect consciousness."Ah--what is this?" he said, roughly, sitting up in bed, and eying thewatchers around him, some of whom had succumbed to sleep, and otherswere engaged in playing cards. "Caramba! are ye mad? Thou, Sanchez,here; who shouldst be at thy work in the stables! Thou, Pepita, is thymistress asleep or dead, that thou sittest here? Blessed San Antonio!would ye drive me mad?" He lifted his hand to his head, with a dullmovement of pain, and attempted to rise from the bed.
"Softly, good Pereo; lie still," said Sanchez, approaching him. "Thouhast been ill--so ill. These, thy friends, have been waiting only forthis moment to be assured that thou art better. For this idlenessthere is no blame--truly none. The Dona Maria has said that thoushouldst lack no care; and, truly, since the terrible news there hasbeen little to do."
"The terrible news?" repeated Pereo.
Sanchez cast a meaning glance upon the others, as if to indicate thiscoaffirmation of his diagnosis.
"Ay, terrible news! The Doctor West was found this morning dead twomiles from the casa."
"Dr. West dead!" repeated Pereo, slowly, as if endeavoring to masterthe real meaning of the words. Then, seeing the vacuity of hisquestion reflected on the faces of those around him, he added,hurriedly, with a feeble smile, "O--ay--dead! Yes! I remember. And hehas been ill--very ill, eh?"
"It was an accident. He was thrown from his horse, and so killed,"returned Sanchez, gravely.
"Killed--by his horse! sayest thou?" said Pereo, with a sudden fixedlook in his eye.
"Ay, good Pereo. Dost thou not remember when the mustang bolted withhim down upon us in the lane, and then thou didst say he would come toevil with the brute? He did--blessed San Antonio!--within half anhour!"
"How--thou sawest it?"
"Nay; for the mustang was running away and I did not follow. Bueno! ithappened all the same. The Alcalde, Coroner, who knows all about it,has said so an hour ago! Juan brought the news from the rancho wherethe inquest was. There will be a funeral the day after to-morrow! andso it is that some of the family will go. Fancy, Pereo, a Guitierrez atthe funeral of the Americano Doctor! Nay, I doubt not that the DonaMaria will ask thee to say a prayer over his bier."
"Peace, fool! and speak not of thy lady mistress," thundered the oldman, sitting upright. "Begone to the stables. Dost thou hear me? Go!"
"Now, by the Mother of Miracles," said Sanchez, hastening from the roomas the gaunt figure of the old man rose, like a sheeted spectre, fromthe bed, "that was his old self again! Blessed San Antonio! Pereo hasrecovered."
The next day he was at his usual duties, with perhaps a slight increaseof sternness in his manner. The fulfillment of his prophecy related bySanchez added to the superstitious reputation in which he was held,although Faquita voiced the opinions of a growing skeptical party inthe statement that it was easy to prophesy the Doctor's accident, withthe spectacle of the horse actually running away before the prophet'seyes. It was even said that Dona Maria's aversion to Pereo si
nce theaccident arose from a belief that some assistance might have beenrendered by him. But it was pointed out by Sanchez that Pereo had, afew moments before, fallen under one of those singular, epileptic-likestrokes to which he was subject, and not only was unfit, but evenrequired the entire care of Sanchez at the time. He did not attend thefuneral, nor did Mrs. Saltonstall; but the family was represented byMaruja and Amita, accompanied by one or two dark-faced cousins, CaptainCarroll, and Raymond. A number of friends and business associates fromthe neighboring towns, Aladdin and a party from his house, the farmlaborers, and a crowd of working men from his mills in the foot-hills,swelled the assemblage that met in and around the rude agriculturalsheds and outhouses which formed the only pastoral habitation of theRancho of San Antonio. It had been a characteristic injunction of thedeceased that he should be buried in the midst of one of his mostprolific grain fields, as a grim return to that nature he wasimpoverishing, with neither mark nor monument to indicate the spot; andthat even the temporary mound above him should, at the fitting seasonof the year, be leveled with the rest of the field by the obliteratingplowshares. A grave was accordingly dug about a quarter of a mile fromhis office amidst a "volunteer" crop so dense that the large space mownaround the narrow opening, to admit of the presence of the multitude,seemed like a golden amphitheatre.
A distinguished clergyman from San Francisco officiated.
A man of tact and politic adaptation, he dwelt upon the blameless lifeof the deceased, on his practical benefit for civilization in thecounty, and even treated his grim Pantheism in the selection of hisgrave as a formal recognition of the text, "dust to dust." He paid anot ungrateful compliment to the business associates of the deceased,and, without actually claiming in the usual terms "a continuance ofpast favors" for their successors, managed to interpolate so strong arecommendation of the late Doctor's commercial projects as to elicitfrom Aladdin the expressive commendation that his sermon was "as goodas five per cent. in the stock."
Maruja, who had been standing near the carriage, languidly silent andabstracted even under the tender attentions of Carroll, suddenly feltthe consciousness of another pair of eyes fixed upon her. Looking up,she was surprised to find herself regarded by the man she had twicemet, once as a tramp and once as a wayfarer at the fonda, who hadquietly joined a group not far from her. At once impressed by the ideathat this was the first time that he had really looked at her, she felta singular shyness creeping over her, until, to her own astonishmentand indignation, she was obliged to lower her eyes before his gaze. Invain she tried to lift them, with her old supreme power of fascination.If she had ever blushed, she felt she would have done so now. She knewthat her face must betray her consciousness; and at last she--Maruja,the self-poised and all-sufficient goddess--actually turned, inhalf-hysterical and girlish bashfulness, to Carroll for relief in anaffected and exaggerated absorption of his attentions. She scarcelyknew that the clergyman had finished speaking, when Raymond approachedthem softly from behind. "Pray don't believe," he said, appealingly,"that all the human virtues are about to be buried--I should saysown--in that wheatfield. A few will still survive, and creep aboutabove the Doctor's grave. Listen to a story just told me, anddisbelieve--if you dare--in human gratitude. Do you see thatpicturesque young ruffian over there?"
Maruja did not lift her eyes. She felt herself breathlessly hanging onthe speaker's next words.
"Why, that's the young man of the fonda, who picked up your fan," saidCarroll, "isn't it?"
"Perhaps," said Maruja, indifferently. She would have given worlds tohave been able to turn coldly and stare at him at that moment with theothers, but she dared not. She contented herself with softly brushingsome dust from Captain Carroll's arm with her fan and a femininesuggestion of tender care which thrilled that gentleman.
"Well," continued Raymond, "that Robert Macaire over yonder came heresome three or four days ago as a tramp, in want of everything buthonest labor. Our lamented friend consented to parley with him, whichwas something remarkable in the Doctor; still more remarkable, he gavehim a suit of clothes, and, it is said, some money, and sent him on hisway. Now, more remarkable than all, our friend, on hearing of hisbenefactor's death, actually tramps back here to attend his funeral.The Doctor being dead, his executors not of a kind to emulate theDoctor's spasmodic generosity, and there being no chance of futurefavors, the act must be recorded as purely and simply gratitude. ByJove! I don't know but that he is the only one here who can be called areal mourner. I'm here because your sister is here; Carroll comesbecause YOU do, and you come because your mother can not."
"And who tells you these pretty stories?" asked Maruja, with her facestill turned towards Carroll.
"The foreman, Harrison, who, with an extensive practical experience oftramps, was struck with this exception to the general rule."
"Poor man; one ought to do something for him," said Amita,compassionately.
"What!" said Raymond, with affected terror, "and spoil this perfectstory? Never! If I should offer him ten dollars, I'd expect him tokick me; if he took it, I'd expect to kick HIM."
"He is not so bad-looking, is he, Maruja?" asked Amita of her sister.But Maruja had already moved a few paces off with Carroll, and seemedto be listening to him only. Raymond smiled at the pretty perplexityof Amita's eyebrows over this pronounced indiscretion.
"Don't mind them," he whispered; "you really cannot expect to duenayour elder sister. Tell me, would you actually like me to see if Icould assist the virtuous tramp? You have only to speak." But Amita'sinterest appeared to be so completely appeased with Raymond's simpleoffer that she only smiled, blushed, and said "No."
Maruja's quick ears had taken in every word of these asides, and for aninstant she hated her sister for her aimless declination of Raymond'sproposal. But becoming conscious--under her eyelids--that the strangerwas moving away with the dispersing crowd, she rejoined Amita with herusual manner. The others had re-entered the carriage, but Maruja tookit into her head to proceed on foot to the rude building whence themourners had issued. The foreman, Harrison, flushed and startled bythis apparition of inaccessible beauty at his threshold, came eagerlyforward. "I shall not trouble you now, Mr. Har-r-r-rison," she said,with a polite exaggeration of the consonants; "but some day I shallride over here, and ask you to show me your wonderful machines."
She smiled, and turned back to seek her carriage. But before she hadgone many yards she found that she had completely lost it in theintervening billows of grain. She stopped, with an impatient littleSpanish ejaculation. The next moment the stalks of wheat parted beforeher and a figure emerged. It was the stranger.
She fell back a step in utter helplessness.
He, on his side, retreated again into the wheat, holding it back withextended arms to let her pass. As she moved forward mechanically,without a word he moved backward, making a path for her until she wasable to discern the coachman's whip above the bending heads of thegrain just beyond her. He stopped here and drew to one side, his armsstill extended, to give her free passage. She tried to speak, butcould only bow her head, and slipped by him with a strangefeeling--suggested by his attitude--that she was evading his embrace.But the next moment his arms were lowered, the grain closed around him,and he was lost to her view. She reached the carriage almostunperceived by the inmates, and pounced upon her sister with a laugh.
"Blessed Virgin!" said Amita, "where did you come from?"
"From there!" said Maruja, with a slight nervous shiver, pointing tothe clustering grain.
"We were afraid you were lost."
"So was I," said Maruja, raising her pretty lashes heavenwards, as shedrew a shawl tightly round her shoulders.
"Has anything happened. You look strange," said Carroll, drawingcloser to her.
Here eyes were sparkling, but she was very pale.
"Nothing, nothing!" she said, hastily, glancing at the grain again.
"If it were not that the haste would have been absolutely indecen
t, Ishould say that the late Doctor had made you a ghostly visit," saidRaymond, looking at her curiously.
"He would have been polite enough not to have commented on my looks,"said Maruja. "Am I really such a fright?"
Carroll thought he had never seen her so beautiful. Her eyelids werequivering over their fires as if they had been brushed by the passingwing of a strong passion.
"What are you thinking of?" said Carroll, as they drove on.
She was thinking that the stranger had looked at her admiringly, andthat his eyes were blue. But she looked quietly into her lover's face,and said, sweetly, "Nothing, I fear, that would interest you!"