XV
ALESSANDRO'S first answer to this cry of Ramona's was a tightening ofhis arms around her; closer and closer he held her, till it was almostpain; she could hear the throbs of his heart, but he did not speak.Then, letting his arms fall, taking her hand in his, he laid it onhis forehead reverently, and said, in a voice which was so husky andtrembling she could barely understand his words: "My Senorita knows thatmy life is hers. She can ask me to go into the fire or into the sea, andneither the fire nor the sea would frighten me; they would but makeme glad for her sake. But I cannot take my Senorita's life to throw itaway. She is tender; she would die; she cannot lie on the earth for abed, and have no food to eat. My Senorita does not know what she says."
His solemn tone; this third-person designation, as if he were speakingof her, not with her, almost as if he were thinking aloud to God ratherthan speaking to her, merely calmed and strengthened, did not deterRamona. "I am strong; I can work too, Alessandro. You do not know. Wecan both work. I am not afraid to lie on the earth; and God will give usfood," she said.
"That was what I thought, my Senorita, until now. When I rode awaythat morning, I had it in my thoughts, as you say, that if you were notafraid, I would not be; and that there would at least always be food,and I could make it that you should never suffer; but, Senorita, thesaints are displeased. They do not pray for us any more. It is as myfather said, they have forsaken us. These Americans will destroy us all.I do not know but they will presently begin to shoot us and poisonus, to get us all out of the country, as they do the rabbits and thegophers; it would not be any worse than what they have done. Would notyou rather be dead, Senorita, than be as I am to-day?"
Each word he spoke but intensified Ramona's determination to sharehis lot. "Alessandro," she interrupted, "there are many men among yourpeople who have wives, are there not?"
"Yes, Senorita!" replied Alessandro, wonderingly.
"Have their wives left them and gone away, now that this trouble hascome?"
"No, Senorita." still more wonderingly; "how could they?"
"They are going to stay with them, help them to earn money, try to makethem happier, are they not?"
"Yes, Senorita." Alessandro began to see whither these questions tended.It was not unlike the Senora's tactics, the way in which Ramona narrowedin her lines of interrogation.
"Do the women of your people love their husbands very much?"
"Very much, Senorita." A pause. It was very dark now. Alessandro couldnot see the hot currents running swift and red over Ramona's face; evenher neck changed color as she asked her last question. "Do you think anyone of them loves her husband more than I love you, Alessandro?"
Alessandro's arms were again around her, before the words were done.Were not such words enough to make a dead man live? Almost; but notenough to make such a love as Alessandro's selfish. Alessandro wassilent.
"You know there is not one!" said Ramona, impetuously.
"Oh, it is too much!" cried Alessandro, throwing his arms up wildly.Then, drawing her to him again, he said, the words pouring outbreathless: "My Senorita, you take me to the door of heaven, but I darenot go in. I know it would kill you, Senorita, to live the life we mustlive. Let me go, dearest Senorita; let me go! It had been better if youhad never seen me."
"Do you know what I was going to do, Alessandro, if you had not come?"said Ramona. "I was going to run away from the Senora's house, allalone, and walk all the way to Santa Barbara, to Father Salvierderra,and ask him to put me in the convent at San Juan Bautista; and that iswhat I will do now if you leave me!"
"Oh, no, no, Senorita, my Senorita, you will not do that! My beautifulSenorita in the convent! No, no!" cried Alessandro, greatly agitated.
"Yes, if you do not let me come with you, I shall do it. I shall set outto-morrow."
Her words carried conviction to Alessandro's soul. He knew she would doas she said. "Even that would not be so dreadful as to be hunted like awild beast, Senorita; as you may be, if you come with me."
"When I thought you were dead, Alessandro, I did not think the conventwould be dreadful at all. I thought it would be peace; and I could dogood, teaching the children. But if I knew you were alive, I could neverhave peace; not for one minute have peace, Alessandro! I would ratherdie, than not be where you are. Oh, Alessandro, take me with you!"
Alessandro was conquered. "I will take you, my most beloved Senorita,"he said gravely,--no lover's gladness in his tone, and his voice washollow; "I will take you. Perhaps the saints will have mercy on you,even if they have forsaken me and my people!"
"Your people are my people, dearest; and the saints never forsake anyone who does not forsake them. You will be glad all our lives long,Alessandro," cried Ramona; and she laid her head on his breast in solemnsilence for a moment, as if registering a vow.
Well might Felipe have said that he would hold himself fortunate if anywoman ever loved him as Ramona loved Alessandro.
When she lifted her head, she said timidly, now that she was sure, "Thenyou will take your Ramona with you, Alessandro?"
"I will take you with me till I die; and may the Madonna guard you, myRamona," replied Alessandro, clasping her to his breast, and bowinghis head upon hers. But there were tears in his eyes, and they were nottears of joy; and in his heart he said, as in his rapturous delight whenhe first saw Ramona bending over the brook under the willows he had saidaloud, "My God! what shall I do!"
It was not easy to decide on the best plan of procedure now. Alessandrowished to go boldly to the house, see Senor Felipe, and if need be theSenora. Ramona quivered with terror at the bare mention of it. "You donot know the Senora, Alessandro," she cried, "or you would never thinkof it. She has been terrible all this time. She hates me so that shewould kill me if she dared. She pretends that she will do nothing toprevent my going away; but I believe at the last minute she would throwme in the well in the court-yard, rather than have me go with you."
"I would never let her harm you," said Alessandro. "Neither would SenorFelipe."
"She turns Felipe round her finger as if he were soft wax," answeredRamona. "She makes him of a hundred minds in a minute, and he can't helphimself. Oh, I think she is in league with the fiends, Alessandro! Don'tdare to come near the house; I will come here as soon as every one isasleep. We must go at once."
Ramona's terrors overruled Alessandro's judgment, and he consented towait for her at the spot where they now stood. She turned back twice toembrace him again. "Oh, my Alessandro, promise me that you will not stirfrom this place till I come," she said.
"I will be here when you come," he said.
"It will not be more than two hours," she said, "or three, at theutmost. It must be nine o'clock now."
She did not observe that Alessandro had evaded the promise not to leavethe spot. That promise Alessandro would not have given. He had somethingto do in preparation for this unexpected flight of Ramona. In herinnocence, her absorption in her thoughts of Alessandro and of love, shehad never seemed to consider how she would make this long journey.As Alessandro had ridden towards Temecula, eighteen days ago, he hadpictured himself riding back on his fleet, strong Benito, and bringingAntonio's matchless little dun mare for Ramona to ride. Only eighteenshort days ago; and as he was dreaming that very dream, he had looked upand seen Antonio on the little dun mare, galloping towards him like thewind, the overridden creature's breath coming from her like pants ofa steam-engine, and her sides dripping blood, where Antonio, who lovedher, had not spared the cruel spurs; and Antonio, seeing him, haduttered a cry, and flinging himself off, came with a bound to his side,and with gasps between his words told him. Alessandro could not rememberthe words, only that after them he set his teeth, and dropping thebridle, laid his head down between Benito's ears, and whispered to him;and Benito never stopped, but galloped on all that day, till he cameinto Temecula; and there Alessandro saw the roofless houses, andthe wagons being loaded, and the people running about, the women andchildren wailing; and then they showed him the pl
ace where his fatherlay on the ground, under the tule, and jumping off Benito he let him go,and that was the last he ever saw of him. Only eighteen days ago! Andnow here he was, under the willows,--the same copse where he firsthalted, at his first sight of Ramona; and it was night, dark night, andRamona had been there, in his arms; she was his; and she was going backpresently to go away with him,--where! He had no home in the wide worldto which to take her,--and this poor beast he had ridden from Temecula,had it strength enough left to carry her? Alessandro doubted. He hadhimself walked more than half the distance, to spare the creature, andyet there had been good pasture all the way; but the animal had been toolong starved to recover quickly. In the Pachanga canon, where they hadfound refuge, the grass was burned up by the sun, and the few horsestaken over there had suffered wretchedly; some had died. But Alessandro,even while his arms were around Ramona, had revolved in his mind aproject he would not have dared to confide to her. If Baba, Ramona's ownhorse, was still in the corral, Alessandro could without difficultylure him out. He thought it would be no sin. At any rate, if it were,it could not be avoided. The Senorita must have a horse, and Baba hadalways been her own; had followed her about like a dog ever since hecould run; in fact, the only taming he had ever had, had been done byRamona, with bread and honey. He was intractable to others; but Ramonacould guide him by a wisp of his silky mane. Alessandro also had nearlyas complete control over him; for it had been one of his greatestpleasures, during the summer, when he could not see Ramona, to caressand fondle her horse, till Baba knew and loved him next to his youngmistress. If only Baba were in the corral, all would be well. As soon asthe sound of Ramona's footsteps had died away, Alessandro followed withquick but stealthy steps; keeping well down in the bottom, below thewillows, he skirted the terrace where the artichoke-patch and thesheepfolds lay, and then turned up to approach the corral from thefarther side. There was no light in any of the herdsmen's huts. Theywere all asleep. That was good. Well Alessandro knew how sound theyslept; many a night while he slept there with them he had walked twiceover their bodies as they lay stretched on skins on the floor,--outand in without rousing them. If only Baba would not give a loud whinny.leaning on the corral-fence, Alessandro gave a low, hardly audiblewhistle. The horses were all in a group together at the farther end ofthe corral. At the sound there was a slight movement in the group; andone of them turned and came a pace or two toward Alessandro.
"I believe that is Baba himself," thought Alessandro; and he madeanother low sound. The horse quickened his steps; then halted, as if hesuspected some mischief.
"Baba," whispered Alessandro. The horse knew his name as well as anydog; knew Alessandro's voice too; but the sagacious creature seemedinstinctively to know that here was an occasion for secrecy and caution.If Alessandro whispered, he, Baba, would whisper back; and it was littlemore than a whispered whinny which he gave, as he trotted quickly to thefence, and put his nose to Alessandro's face, rubbing and kissing andgiving soft whinnying sighs.
"Hush! hush! Baba," whispered Alessandro, as if he were speaking to ahuman being. "Hush!" and he proceeded cautiously to lift off the upperrails and bushes of the fence. The horse understood instantly; and assoon as the fence was a little lowered, leaped over it and stood stillby Alessandro's side, while he replaced the rails, smiling to himself,spite of his grave anxiety, to think of Juan Can's wonder in the morningas to how Baba had managed to get out of the corral.
This had taken only a few moments. It was better luck than Alessandrohad hoped for; emboldened by it, he began to wonder if he could not getthe saddle too. The saddles, harnesses, bridles, and all such thingshung on pegs in an open barn, such as is constantly to be seen inSouthern California; as significant a testimony, in matter of climate,as any Signal Service Report could be,--a floor and a roof; no walls,only corner posts to hold the roof. Nothing but summerhouses on a largescale are the South California barns. Alessandro stood musing. Thelonger he thought, the greater grew his desire for that saddle.
"Baba, if only you knew what I wanted of you, you'd lie down on theground here and wait while I got the saddle. But I dare not risk leavingyou. Come, Baba!" and he struck down the hill again, the horse followinghim softly. When he got down below the terrace, he broke into a run,with his hand in Baba's mane, as if it were a frolic; and in a fewmoments they were safe in the willow copse, where Alessandro's poor ponywas tethered. Fastening Baba with the same lariat, Alessandro patted himon the neck, pressed his face to his nose, and said aloud, "Good Baba,stay here till the Senorita comes." Baba whinnied.
"Why shouldn't he know the Senorita's name! I believe he does!" thoughtAlessandro, as he turned and again ran swiftly back to the corral. Hefelt strong now,--felt like a new man. Spite of all the terror, joythrilled him. When he reached the corral, all was yet still. The horseshad not moved from their former position. Throwing himself flat on theground, Alessandro crept on his breast from the corral to the barn,several rods' distance. This was the most hazardous part of hisadventure; every other moment he paused, lay motionless for someseconds, then crept a few paces more. As he neared the corner whereRamona's saddle always hung, his heart beat. Sometimes, of a warm night,Luigo slept on the barn floor. If he were there to-night, all was lost.Groping in the darkness, Alessandro pulled himself up on the post, feltfor the saddle, found it, lifted it, and in a trice was flat on theground again, drawing the saddle along after him. Not a sound had hemade, that the most watchful of sheep-dogs could hear.
"Ha, old Capitan, caught you napping this time!" said Alessandro tohimself, as at last he got safe to the bottom of the terrace, and,springing to his feet, bounded away with the saddle on his shoulders.It was a weight for a starving man to carry, but he felt it not, forthe rejoicing he had in its possession. Now his Senorita would go incomfort. To ride Baba was to be rocked in a cradle. If need be, Babawould carry them both, and never know it; and it might come to that,Alessandro thought, as he knelt by the side of his poor beast, which wasstretched out on the ground exhausted; Baba standing by, looking down inscornful wonder at this strange new associate.
"The saints be praised!" thought Alessandro, as he seated himself towait. "This looks as if they would not desert my Senorita."
Thoughts whirled in his brain. Where should they go first? What would bebest? Would they be pursued? Where could they hide? Where should he seeka new home?
It was bootless thinking, until Ramona was by his side. He must layeach plan before her. She must decide. The first thing was to get toSan Diego, to the priest, to be married. That would be three days' hardride; five for the exhausted Indian pony. What should they eat onthe ways Ah! Alessandro bethought him of the violin at Hartsel's. Mr.Hartsel would give him money on that; perhaps buy it. Then Alessandroremembered his own violin. He had not once thought of it before. It layin its case on a table in Senor Felipe's room when he came away, Was itpossible? No, of course it could not be possible that the Senorita wouldthink to bring it. What would she bring? She would be wise, Alessandrowas sure.
How long the hours seemed as he sat thus plotting and conjecturing; moreand more thankful, as each hour went by, to see the sky still clouded,the darkness dense. "It must have been the saints, too, that brought meon a night when there was no moon," he thought; and then he said again,devout and simple-minded man that he was. "They mean to protect mySenorita; they will let me take care of her."
Ramona was threading a perilous way, through great difficulties. She hadreached her room unobserved, so far as she could judge. Luckily for her,Margarita was in bed with a terrible toothache, for which her mother hadgiven her a strong sleeping-draught. Margarita was disposed of. If shehad not been, Ramona would never have got away, for Margarita would haveknown that she had been out of the house for two hours, and would havewatched to see what it meant.
Ramona came in through the court-yard; she dared not go by the veranda,sure that Felipe and his mother were sitting there still, for it was notlate.
As she entered her room, she heard them talking. She c
losed one of herwindows, to let them know she was there. Then she knelt at the Madonna'sfeet, and in an inaudible whisper told her all she was going to do, andprayed that she would watch over her and Alessandro, and show them whereto go.
"I know she will! I am sure she will!" whispered Ramona to herself asshe rose from her knees.
Then she threw herself on her bed, to wait till the Senora and Felipeshould be asleep. Her brain was alert, clear. She knew exactly what shewished to do. She had thought that all out, more than two weeks ago,when she was looking for Alessandro hour by hour.
Early in the summer Alessandro had given to her, as curiosities, twoof the large nets which the Indian women use for carrying all sorts ofburdens. They are woven out of the fibres of a flax-like plant, andare strong as iron. The meshes being large, they are very light; aregathered at each end, and fastened to a band which goes around theforehead. In these can be carried on the back, with comparative ease,heavier loads than could be lifted in any other way. Until Ramonarecollected these, she had been perplexed to know how she should carrythe things which she had made up her mind it would be right for her totake,--only a few; simply necessaries; one stuff gown and her shawls;the new altar-cloth, and two changes of clothes; that would not be agreat deal; she had a right to so much, she thought, now that shehad seen the jewels in the Senora's keeping. "I will tell FatherSalvierderra exactly what I took," she thought, "and ask him if it wastoo much." She did not like to think that all these clothes she musttake had been paid for with the Senora Moreno's money.
And Alessandro's violin. Whatever else she left, that must go. Whatwould life be to Alessandro without a violin! And if they went to LosAngeles, he might earn money by playing at dances. Already Ramona haddevised several ways by which they could both earn money.
There must be also food for the journey. And it must be good food, too;wine for Alessandro. Anguish filled her heart as she recalled how gaunthe looked. "Starving," he said they had been. Good God! Starving! Andshe had sat down each day at loaded tables, and seen, each day, goodfood thrown to the dogs to eat.
It was long before the Senora went to her room; and long after thatbefore Felipe's breathing had become so deep and regular that Ramonadared feel sure that he was asleep. At last she ventured out. All wasdark; it was past midnight.
"The violin first!" she said; and creeping into the dining-room, andthrough the inner door to Felipe's room, she brought it out, rolled itin shawl after shawl, and put it in the net with her clothes. Then shestole out, with this net on her back, "like a true Indian woman as Iam," she said, almost gayly, to herself,--through the court-yard, aroundthe southeast corner of the house, past the garden, down to the willows,where she laid down her load, and went back for the second.
This was harder. Wine she was resolved to have and bread and coldmeat. She did not know so well where to put her hand on old Marda'spossessions as on her own, and she dared not strike a light. She madeseveral journeys to the kitchen and pantry before she had completed herstore. Wine, luckily, she found in the dining-room,--two full bottles;also milk, which she poured into a leathern flask which hung on the wallin the veranda.
Now all was ready. She leaned from her window, and listened to Felipe'sbreathing. "How can I go without bidding him good-by?" she said. "Howcan I?" and she stood irresolute.
"Dear Felipe! Dear Felipe! He has always been so good to me! He has doneall he could for me. I wish I dared kiss him. I will leave a note forhim."
Taking a pencil and paper, and a tiny wax taper, whose lightwould hardly be seen across a room, she slipped once more into thedining-room, knelt on the floor behind the door, lighted her taper, andwrote:--
"DEAR FELIPE,--Alessandro has come, and I am going away with himto-night. Don't let anything be done to us, if you can help it. I don'tknow where we are going. I hope, to Father Salvierderra. I shall loveyou always. Thank you, dear Felipe, for all your kindness.
"RAMONA."
It had not taken a moment. She blew out her taper, and crept back intoher room. Felipe's bed was now moved close to the wall of the house.From her window she could reach its foot. Slowly, cautiously, shestretched out her arm and dropped the little paper on the coverlet, justover Felipe's feet. There was a risk that the Senora would come out inthe morning, before Felipe awaked, and see the note first; but that riskshe would take.
"Farewell, dear Felipe!" she whispered, under her breath, as she turnedfrom the window.
The delay had cost her dear. The watchful Capitan, from his bed at theupper end of the court, had half heard, half scented, something strangegoing on. As Ramona stepped out, he gave one short, quick bark, and camebounding down.
"Holy Virgin, I am lost!" thought Ramona; but, crouching on the ground,she quickly opened her net, and as Capitan came towards her, gave him apiece of meat, fondling and caressing him. While he ate it, wagging histail, and making great demonstrations of joy, she picked up her loadagain, and still fondling him, said, "Come on, Capitan!" It was her lastchance. If he barked again, somebody would be waked; if he went by herside quietly, she might escape. A cold sweat of terror burst on herforehead as she took her first step cautiously. The dog followed. Shequickened her pace; he trotted along, still smelling the meat in thenet. When she reached the willows, she halted, debating whether sheshould give him a large piece of meat, and try to run away while he waseating it, or whether she should let him go quietly along. She decidedon the latter course; and, picking up her other net, walked on. She wassafe now. She turned, and looked back towards the house; all was darkand still. She could hardly see its outline. A great wave of emotionswept over her. It was the only home she had ever known. All shehad experienced of happiness, as well as of bitter pain, had beenthere,--Felipe, Father Salvierderra, the servants, the birds, thegarden, the dear chapel! Ah, if she could have once more prayed in thechapel! Who would put fresh flowers and ferns in the chapel now? HowFelipe would miss her, when he knelt before the altar! For fourteenyears she had knelt by his side. And the Senora,--the hard, cold Senora!She would alone be glad. Everybody else would be sorry. "They will allbe sorry I have gone,--all but the Senora! I wish it had been so that Icould have bidden them all good-by, and had them all bid me good-by, andwish us good fortune!" thought the gentle, loving girl, as she drew along sigh, and, turning her back on her home, went forward in the pathshe had chosen.
She stooped and patted Capitan on the head. "Will you come with me,Capitan?" she said; and Capitan leaped up joyfully, giving two or threeshort, sharp notes of delight. "Good Capitan, come! They will notmiss him out of so many," she thought, "and it will always seem likesomething from home, as long as I have Capitan."
When Alessandro first saw Ramona's figure dimly in the gloom, drawingslowly nearer, he did not recognize it, and he was full of apprehensionat the sight. What stranger could it be, abroad in these lonely meadowsat this hour of the night? Hastily he led the horses farther back intothe copse, and hid himself behind a tree, to watch. In a few momentsmore he thought he recognized Capitan, bounding by the side of thisbent and slow-moving figure. Yet this was surely an Indian woman toilingalong under a heavy load. But what Indian woman would have so superb acollie as Capitan? Alessandro strained his eyes through the darkness.Presently he saw the figure halt,--drop part of its burden.
"Alessandro!" came in a sweet, low call.
He bounded like a deer, crying, "My Senorita! my Senorita! Can that beyou? To think that you have brought these heavy loads!"
Ramona laughed. "Do you remember the day you showed me how the Indianwomen carried so much on their backs, in these nets? I did not thinkthen I would use it so soon. But it hurts my forehead, Alessandro. Itisn't the weight, but the strings cut. I couldn't have carried them muchfarther!"
"Ah, you had no basket to cover the head," replied Alessandro, as hethrew up the two nets on his shoulders as if they had been feathers. Indoing so, he felt the violin-case.
"Is it the violin?" he cried. "My blessed one, where did you get it?"
"Off the t
able in Felipe's room," she answered. "I knew you would ratherhave it than anything else. I brought very little, Alessandro; it seemednothing while I was getting it; but it is very heavy to carry. Willit be too much for the poor tired horse? You and I can walk. And see,Alessandro, here is Capitan. He waked up, and I had to bring him, tokeep him still. Can't he go with us?"
Capitan was leaping up, putting his paws on Alessandro's breast,licking his face, yelping, doing all a dog could do, to show welcome andaffection.
Alessandro laughed aloud. Ramona had not more than two or three timesheard him do this. It frightened her. "Why do you laugh, Alessandro?"she said.
"To think what I have to show you, my Senorita," he said. "Look here;"and turning towards the willows, he gave two or three low whistles, atthe first note of which Baba came trotting out of the copse to the endof his lariat, and began to snort and whinny with delight as soon as heperceived Ramona.
Ramona burst into tears. The surprise was too great.
"Are you not glad, Senorita?" cried Alessandro, aghast. "Is it not yourown horse? If you do not wish to take him, I will lead him back. My ponycan carry you, if we journey very slowly. But I thought it would be joyto you to have Baba."
"Oh, it is! it is!" sobbed Ramona, with her head on Baba's neck. "It isa miracle,--a miracle. How did he come here? And, the saddle too!" shecried, for the first time observing that. "Alessandro," in an awe-struckwhisper, "did the saints send him? Did you find him here?" It would haveseemed to Ramona's faith no strange thing, had this been so.
"I think the saints helped me to bring him," answered Alessandro,seriously, "or else I had not done it so easily. I did but call, nearthe corral-fence, and he came to my hand, and leaped over the rails atmy word, as quickly as Capitan might have done. He is yours, Senorita.It is no harm to take him?"
"Oh, no!" answered Ramona. "He is more mine than anything else I had;for it was Felipe gave him to me when he could but just stand on hislegs; he was only two days old; and I have fed him out of my hand everyday till now; and now he is five. Dear Baba, we will never be parted,never!" and she took his head in both her hands, and laid her cheekagainst it lovingly.
Alessandro was busy, fastening the two nets on either side of thesaddle. "Baba will never know he has a load at all; they are not soheavy as my Senorita thought," he said. "It was the weight on theforehead, with nothing to keep the strings from the skin, which gave herpain."
Alessandro was making all haste. His hands trembled. "We must make allthe speed we can, dearest Senorita," he said, "for a few hours. Then wewill rest. Before light, we will be in a spot where we can hide safelyall day. We will journey only by night, lest they pursue us."
"They will not," said Ramona. "There is no danger. The Senora said sheshould do nothing. 'Nothing!'" she repeated, in a bitter tone. "That iswhat she made Felipe say, too. Felipe wanted to help us. He would haveliked to have you stay with us; but all he could get was, that she woulddo 'nothing!' But they will not follow us. They will wish never to hearof me again. I mean, the Senora will wish never to hear of me. Felipewill be sorry. Felipe is very good, Alessandro."
They were all ready now,--Ramona on Baba, the two packed nets swingingfrom her saddle, one on either side. Alessandro, walking, led his tiredpony. It was a sad sort of procession for one going to be wed, butRamona's heart was full of joy.
"I don't know why it is, Alessandro," she said; "I should think Iwould be afraid, but I have not the least fear,--not the least; not ofanything that can come, Alessandro," she reiterated with emphasis. "Isit not strange?"
"Yes, Senorita," he replied solemnly, laying his hand on hers as hewalked close at her side. "It is strange. I am afraid,--afraid for you,my Senorita! But it is done, and we will not go back; and perhaps thesaints will help you, and will let me take care of you. They must loveyou, Senorita; but they do not love me, nor my people."
"Are you never going to call me by my name?" asked Ramona. "I hate yourcalling me Senorita. That was what the Senora always called me when shewas displeased."
"I will never speak the word again!" cried Alessandro. "The saintsforbid I should speak to you in the words of that woman!"
"Can't you say Ramona?" she asked.
Alessandro hesitated. He could not have told why it seemed to himdifficult to say Ramona.
"What was that other name, you said you always thought of me by?" shecontinued. "The Indian name,--the name of the dove?"
"Majel," he said. "It is by that name I have oftenest thought of yousince the night I watched all night for you, after you had kissed me,and two wood-doves were calling and answering each other in the dark;and I said to myself, that is what my love is like, the wood-dove: thewood-dove's voice is low like hers, and sweeter than any other sound inthe earth; and the wood-dove is true to one mate always--" He stopped.
"As I to you, Alessandro," said Ramona, leaning from her horse, andresting her hand on Alessandro's shoulder.
Baba stopped. He was used to knowing by the most trivial signs what hismistress wanted; he did not understand this new situation no one hadever before, when Ramona was riding him, walked by his side so closethat he touched his shoulders, and rested his hand in his mane. If ithad been anybody else than Alessandro, Baba would not have permitted iteven now. But it must be all right, since Ramona was quiet; and now shehad stretched out her hand and rested it on Alessandro's shoulder.Did that mean halt for a moment? Baba thought it might, and actedaccordingly; turning his head round to the right, and looking back tosee what came of it.
Alessandro's arms around Ramona, her head bent down to his, their lipstogether,--what could Baba think? As mischievously as if he had beena human being or an elf, Baba bounded to one side and tore the loversapart. They both laughed, and cantered on,--Alessandro running; the poorIndian pony feeling the contagion, and loping as it had not done formany a day.
"Majel is my name, then," said Ramona, "is it? It is a sweet sound, butI would like it better Majella. Call me Majella."
"That will be good," replied Alessandro, "for the reason that neverbefore had any one the same name. It will not be hard for me to sayMajella. I know not why your name of Ramona has always been hard to mytongue."
"Because it was to be that you should call me Majella," said Ramona."Remember, I am Ramona no longer. That also was the name the Senoracalled me by--and dear Felipe too," she added thoughtfully. "He wouldnot know me by my new name. I would like to have him always callme Ramona. But for all the rest of the world I am Majella,now,--Alessandro's Majel!"