XVI.
The evening before the wedding Prudencia covered her demure selfwith black gown and reboso, and, accompanied by Chonita, went to theMission to make her last maiden confession. Chonita did not go withher into the church, but paced up and down the long corridor of thewing, gazing absently upon the deep wild valley and peaceful ocean,seeing little beyond the images in her own mind.
That morning Alvarado and several members of the Junta had arrived,but not Estenega. He had come as far as the Rancho Temblor, Alvaradoexplained, and there, meeting some old friends, had decided to remainover night and accompany them the next day to the ceremony. As Chonitahad stood on the corridor and watched the approach of the Governor'scavalcade her heart had beaten violently, and she had angrilyacknowledged that her nervousness was due to the fact that she wasabout to meet Diego Estenega again. When she discovered that hewas not of the party, she turned to me with pique, resentment, anddisappointment in her face.
"Even if I cannot ever like him," she said, "at least I might have thepleasure of hearing him talk. There is no harm in that, even if he isan Estenega, a renegade, and the enemy of my brother. I can hate himwith my heart and like him with my mind. And he must have cared littleto see us again, that he could linger for another day."
"I am mad to see Don Diego Estenega," said Valencia, her red lipspouting. "Why did he, of all others, tarry?"
"He is fickle and perverse," I said,--"the most uncertain man I know."
"Perhaps he thought to make us wish to see him the more," suggestedValencia.
"No," I said: "he has no ridiculous vanities."
Chonita wandered back and forth behind the arches, waiting forPrudencia's long confession of sinless errors to conclude.
"What has a baby like that to confess?" she thought, impatiently. "Shecould not sin if she tried. She knows nothing of the dark stormsof rage and hatred and revenge which can gather in the breasts ofstronger and weaker beings. I never knew, either, until lately; butthe storm is so black I dare not face it and carry it to the priest. Iam a sort of human chaos, and I wish I were dead. I thought to forgethim, and I see him as plainly as on that morning when he told me thatit was he who would send my brother to prison----"
She stopped short with a little cry. Diego Estenega stood before theMission in the broad swath of moonlight. She had heard a horse gallopup the valley, but had paid no attention to the familiar sound.Estenega had appeared as suddenly as if he had arisen from the earth.
"It is I, senorita." He ascended the Mission steps. "Do not fear. MayI kiss your hand?"
She gave him her hand, but withdrew it hurriedly. Of the tremendousmystery of sex she knew almost nothing. Girls were brought up in suchignorance in those days that many a bride ran home to her mother onher wedding night; and books teach Innocence little. But she was fullyconscious that there was something in the touch of Estenega's lips andhand that startled while it thrilled and enthralled.
"I thought you stayed with the Ortegas to-night," she said. Oh,blessed conventions!
"I did,--for a few hours. Then I wanted to see you, and I left themand came on. At Casa Grande I found no one but Eustaquia; every oneelse had gone to the gardens; and she told me that you were here."
Chonita's heart was beating as fast as it had beaten that morning;even her hands shook a little. A glad wave of warmth rushed over her.She turned to him impetuously. "Tell me?" she exclaimed. "Why do Ifeel like this for you? I hate you: you know that. There are manyreasons,--five; you counted them. And yet I feel excited, almost glad,at your coming. This morning I was disappointed when you did not. Tellme,--you know everything, and I so little,--why is it?"
Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes terrified and appealing. She lookedvery lovely and natural. Probably for the first time in his lifeEstenega resisted a temptation. He passionately wished to take her inhis arms and tell her the truth. But he was too clever a man; therewas too much at stake; if he frightened her now he might never evensee her again. Moreover, she appealed to his chivalry. And it suddenlyoccurred to him that so sweet a heart would be warped in its waking ifpassion bewildered and controlled her first.
"Dona Chonita," he said, "like all women,--all beautiful and spoiledwomen,--you demand variety. I happen to be made of harder stuff thanyour caballeros, and you have not seen me for two months; that isall."
"And if I saw you every day for two months would I no longer carewhether you came or went?"
"Undoubtedly.
"Is it sweet or terrible to feel this way?" thought the girl. "Would Iregret if he no longer made me tremble, or would I go on my knees andthank the Blessed Virgin?" Aloud she said, "It was strange for me toask you such questions; but it is as if you had something in your mindseparate from yourself, and that _it_ would tell me, and you could notprevent its being truthful. I do not believe in _you_; you look as ifnothing were worth the while to lie or tell the truth about; but yourmind is quite different. It seems to me that it knows all things, thatit is as cold and clear as ice."
"What a whimsical creature you are! My mind, like myself,--I feel asif I were twins,--is at your service. Forget that I am Diego Estenega.Regard me as a sort of archive of impressions which may amuse or serveyou as the poorest of your books do. That they happen to be cataloguedunder the general title of Diego Estenega is a mere detail; anaccident, for that matter; they might be pigeon-holed in the skull ofa Bandini or a Pico. I happen to be the magnet, that is all."
"If I could forget that you were an Estenega,--just for a week, whileyou are here," she said, wistfully.
"You are a woman of will and imagination,--also of variety. Make anexperiment; it will interest you. Of course there will be times whenyou will be bitterly conscious that I am the enemy of your house; itwould be idle to expect otherwise; but when we happen to be apart fromdisturbing influences, let us agree to forget that we are anything buttwo human beings, deeply congenial. As for what I said in the gardenat Monterey, the last time we spoke together,--I shall not botheryou."
"You no longer care?" she exclaimed.
"I did not say that. I said I should not bother you,--recognizingyour hostility and your reasons. Be faithful to your traditions, mybeautiful doomswoman. No man is worth the sacrifice of those dear oldcomrades. What presumption for a man to require you to abandon thecause of your house, give up your brother, sacrifice one or more ofyour religious principles; one, too, who would open his doors to theAmericans you hate! No man is worth such a sacrifice as that."
"No," she said, "no man." But she said it without enthusiasm.
"A man is but one; traditions are fivefold, and multiplied by duty.Poor grain of sand--what can he give, comparable to the cold serenehappiness of fidelity to self? Love is sweet,--horribly sweet,--but socommon a madness can give but a tithe of the satisfaction of duty topure and lofty ideals."
"I do not believe that." The woman in her arose in resentment. "A lifeof duty must be empty, cold, and wrong. It was not that we were madefor."
"Let us talk little of love, senorita: it is a dangerous subject."
"But it interests me, and I should like to understand it."
"I will explain the subject to you fully, some day. I have a fancy todo that on my own territory,--up in the redwoods--"
"Here is Prudencia."
A small black figure swept down the steps of the church. She bowedlow to Estenega when he was presented, but uttered no word. The Indianservants brought the horses to the door, and they rode down the valleyto Casa Grande.