CHAPTER VI.--_Naughty Dog Milord an Important Factor._
Three large wagons, each drawn by six horses, were hauling the lumberfor Mr. Darrell's house, which was already commenced.
Victoriano, riding across the valley, had to stop to let the heavilyloaded wagons pass. This gave Clarence time to overtake him.
"Good morning," said he, "I am glad to catch up with you, DonVictoriano. I have been wanting to speak to you."
Victoriano bowed, saying, "Will you go to my house?"
"No, I'd rather not. I am not dressed to be seen by ladies. I wouldrather speak to you here."
"You are going to build a large house, Mr. Darrell?" said Victoriano,turning his horse so as to ride beside Clarence; "judging by the amountof lumber being hauled."
"Yes; rather. We are a large family, and require a good deal of room.But before we do any more work I want to speak with your father. I wantto ask him--ask him as a favor--and yet, as a business proposition"--hehesitated; he was evidently embarrassed; but Victoriano, not guessingthe drift of his words, remained waiting silently, offering noassistance. "Well," he continued, "I mean this: I don't like thisfashion of taking people's lands, and I would like to pay to SenorAlamar for what has been located by us, but at the same time I do notwish my father to know that I have paid for the land, as I am sure hewould take my action as a reproach--as a disclaimer of his own action,and I don't wish to hurt his feelings, or seem to be disrespectful orcensorious."
"I understand, and I think my father will be willing to sell the land.He is at home now. Let us go up to see him."
"Had you not better speak to him, and make an appointment for me to seehim to-morrow, or some other time? I'd rather not risk being seen by theladies in this blue flannel shirt and heavy boots. I look toorough--like a smuggler or a squatter, sure."
"I can call my father to speak to you outside, so that the ladies neednot see you. But if they should, that needn't disturb you. They have toomuch sense not to know that you would not be working in white kidgloves. Come on. The front veranda is empty. Mother and three of mysisters are at the Mechlin's. Mercedes is the only one at home, and sheis too busy with her embroidery in Madam Halier's room to come near you.I'll bring father to the front veranda."
Clarence and Victoriano tied their horses by the garden gate and walkedto the piazza. The hall door was ajar. Clarence saw no ladies about andfelt reassured.
There were three steps leading from the walk through the garden up tothe front veranda. These steps were exactly opposite to the hall door.
Victoriano took the path to the right, saying: "Go up and sit down. I'llbring my father here."
"Do not disturb him if he is taking his _siesta_."
"The _siesta_ hour is past, I'll find him at the office," said he, goinground the corner, leaving Clarence to walk up the front step. As he didso, he heard a tinkling of little bells and rushing of feet, as ifsomebody was running. Then a laughing voice, the timbre of which wassweetly pleasing, saying:
"Stop, Milord! you bad dog! Milord! Milord!"
At the same moment, through the narrow opening of the door, out darted alittle white dog, dragging after him a large and much entangled skein ofbright-colored silk. Clarence was nearly stepping on the little runaway,when the door was flung open, and a girl rushed out, coming against himbefore she could check herself. In her effort to do so she turned herfoot and staggered forward, but before she realized she was in any one'spresence, she felt two strong arms holding her.
"Oh!" she exclaimed, as a sharp, hot pain darted through her ankle. Shesaw that the two arms which held her were none of her father orbrothers', and that they were covered with blue flannel.
Looking up to see the face above them, their eyes met. Hers expressedsurprise, his merriment. But a change in their expression flashedinstantaneously, and both felt each other tremble, thrilled with thebliss of their proximity. Her face was suffused with burning blushes.She was bewildered, and without daring to meet his eyes again, stammeredan apology; extending her hand, to reach some chair or table to holdherself, but they all were crowded at both ends of the piazza.
"You are hurt. I am afraid you are hurt," said he, with pale lips,reflecting the pallor he saw come to her face, succeeding her crimsonblush. "I know you are suffering. What can I do? I am so sorry!"
"O no, I only turned my foot a little," she answered, venturing to lookat him for an instant. "I shall be all right in a minute."
"If you turned your foot, don't put any weight upon it. Do not try towalk, let me carry you to a chair."
"O no, no! I am not so much hurt as to require giving all that trouble."
"_Please_ let me. It will be no trouble; only a great pleasure." He wasin earnest and spoke quite seriously. "Are you afraid I could not carryyou?"
"No, not that, but it is not necessary," and she tried to walk. A quick,sharp, burning pain through her ankle admonished her that she was morehurt than she had believed. A slight contraction of her brows betrayedher pain.
"There! You will hurt yourself worse," said he, and before she knew whathe was going to do, he stooped a little and lifted her as easily as ifshe had been a little child. She had no time to think whether to begrateful or offended, for he quickly walked to the further end of thepiazza and carefully placed her in a roomy arm chair. Then bending aknee before her, said:
"Forgive my lifting you without your permission. I knew you would notgive it, and I knew also that you were suffering. Will you forgive me?"His voice was soft, caressing, pleading, but his eyes seemed to her toemit rays full of attractive, earnest force which she felt had greatpower. They dazzled her, and yet those eyes were so mild, so kind. Shelooked down, making no answer. "When Don Victoriano comes he can carryyou to bed, and--please--take my advice, stay there until the pain hasentirely left your foot."
She ventured to look at his eyes again. Who could this strong young manbe, so bold, and yet so gentle, so courteous and yet waiting for nopermission to take so positively hold of her, to carry her bodily halfthe length of the piazza. And now so respectfully asking on his knees tobe forgiven? Asking with tones of tender humility in his voice, whilehis eyes she knew could emanate subduing magnetic beams.
"How do you know Victoriano is coming? He went out riding," she said,evading the question of forgiveness, and for the sake of making somereply that would hide her confusion.
"Yes, but I met him and he returned with me. He has gone to look forSenor Alamar, I came to see him on business," said the respectful youngman, still on his knees.
"Do you know my father?"
"Only very slightly." They were silent. He added: "I met him a few daysago when he had that meeting with the squatters."
"Were you at the meeting?" said she, avoiding his gaze.
"Yes," he said, watching her beautiful face. What would she think ofhim, believing him a _Squatter_, one who came to take land that did notbelong to him? How he wished that she would look up, that he might seeher lovely eyes again, for if to her his eyes seemed so glorious, to himhers fascinated, conquered, with a power that he never thought couldexist in any human being. Trembling, he felt that he was madly in lovewith her. Yes, already in love. Love at first sight, surely. But if itkilled him, no matter, he would love her to the last instant of hislife.
Voices were heard approaching through the hall. He stood up and walkedtowards the door. Senor Alamar came forward and shook hands with him.Victoriano explained the reason of his delay being, that he had to lookfor his father all over the house, and at last found him in the furthest"_corral_" looking at some new colts just brought in.
"I am glad that Mercedes came to converse with you," said Victoriano.
"I did not come to converse. I did not know that the gentleman was here.I came by accident," she hastened to reply. "I was trying to catchMilord when I stumbled and would have fallen, had not this gentlemanprevented it." So saying, she blushed anew; her blushes beingimmediately reflected on Clarence's forehead, made them both look like acouple of culpr
its.
"I fear the lady's foot is hurt," said he.
"Is it?" exclaimed Don Mariano, going towards Mercedes. "Does it painyou baby?"
"Yes papa, a little. It burns me. Do you think it would be bad for me towalk to my room?"
"Of course it would," Clarence said, and blushed redder yet at histemerity.
"Can you stand on your foot?" Victoriano asked.
"I don't know."
"Don't try. I'll carry you to your room," said her father.
"Women have no business to have such small feet. They are alwaysstumbling and can't walk worth a cent," said Victoriano, going to lookat his sister's foot. "See here. No wonder they stumble. Look at thelittle slipper. Why don't they wear good broad boots?" So saying he tookoff the little slipper, which seemed made for a Cinderella.
"You are too absurd," said Mercedes, blushing again, to see her slipperbrandished aloft, in the face of a stranger.
"I ain't. It's women's feet that are absurd."
"When we want the ladies to be infantry soldiers, then we will ask themto cultivate big feet," said Don Mariano, laughing.
"But not until then, please," said Clarence, smiling.
"Aha! I see you cherish the general male weakness," said Victoriano,kneeling before his sister to put on the little slipper. "I am the onlystrong-minded man, I know. Come, pussy, I'll carry you to your room."
"No, no. You take me, papa, Tano might drop me."
"Nonsense; as if I couldn't carry a kitten like you."
"Papa, you take me, but not to bed. Put me on the lounge in mamma'sroom, and call Madam Halier to me."
"All right; anything to please the children," said Don Mariano, stoopingto lift her.
She put her arms around his neck, and whispered: "Papa, who is thisyoung man? I never saw him."
"That is a fact," said Don Mariano, taking her up, and turning towardClarence, said: "Mr. Darrell, permit me to present you to my daughter,Mercedes, 'our baby.'" So saying, he dandled her a little in his arms.
"Oh, papa, you make me ridiculous! How can I bow like a lady, when youare rocking me like an infant!" she said, laughing, but blushing againlike a rose.
"Shake hands with the gentleman, that's a dear," said Victoriano,talking baby talk to her.
"Oh, papa, make Tano hush. Mr. Darrell, I am afraid that I shall alwaysseem ridiculous to you."
"Not at all; I don't see why," Clarence replied, "but I fear that yourhurt might be serious."
"That's it. You might be ridiculous, but your hurt might be serious,"said Victoriano.
It was Clarence's turn to blush now, but he smiled good naturedly.
"You won't be serious, though. I wish you were, and polite, too," saidMercedes. "I don't know what Mr. Darrell will think of us."
"Mr. Darrell will see us often, I hope, and think better of Tano," saidDon Mariano, carrying away his precious burden.
"My opinion is all that you could wish, Miss Mercedes," said Clarence,and their eyes met, transmitting that strange thrill to both.
Don Mariano placed Mercedes tenderly on her mamma's lounge, called MadamHalier to attend to the sprained ankle, and returned to the veranda.
Clarence made no delay in stating the object of his visit. He said:
"Since the meeting I have had several talks with the settlers, and theresult has been my conviction, that they will not accept your generousoffer. They, no doubt, wish to take up more land, and think it cannot bedone if they bind themselves to put up fences by accepting yourproposition. How short-sighted they are time alone will show, for atpresent they will not listen to reason."
"I am very sorry. There is no alternative for me but to sell all mycattle as soon as possible, and in the meantime drive all I can to themountains."
"But that will be ruinous, father. How can we herd them in themountains? They will all become wild and run away," said Victoriano.
"I am afraid they will. I am sure of it, in fact. But there is no otherway to save any at all."
"I think this 'no fence' law the most scandalous, bare-faced outrageupon the rights of citizens that I ever heard of," said Clarence,warmly. "It is like setting irresponsible trespassers loose upon apeaceable people, and then rewarding their outrage. To let any one takeup your lands right before your eyes is outrage enough, but to cap theclimax by authorizing people to plant crops without fences and then_corral_ your cattle, which must be attracted to the green grass, I callpositively disgraceful, in a community which is not of vandals. It isshameful to the American name. I am utterly disgusted with the wholebusiness, and the only thing that will make matters a little tolerableto me will be for you to do me the favor of permitting me to pay for theland we have located."
"Does your father wish to pay?"
"I do not know whether he would or not. I fear he would not. My fatheris a blind worshiper of the Congress of these United States, andconsequently it is difficult to persuade him that our legislators mightpossibly do wrong. He believes that Congress has the right to declare_all_ California open to pre-emption, and all American citizens free tochoose any land not already patented. Thus, he thinks he has the rightto locate on your land (according to law, mind you), because he believesyour title has been rejected. But as my faith in our law-givers is notso blind, my belief is that Congress had no more right to pass any lawwhich could give an excuse to trespass upon your property, than to passa law inviting people to your table. I feel a sort of impatience tothink that in our country could exist a law which is so outrageouslyunjust. My pride as an American is somewhat different from that of myfather. He thinks it is a want of patriotism to criticise ourlegislation. Whereas, I think our theory of government is so lofty, sogrand and exalted, that we must watch jealously that Congress may notmisinterpret it; misrepresent the sentiments, the aspirations of theAmerican people, and thus make a caricature of our beautiful ideal. Itis our duty and privilege to criticise our laws, and criticise severely.As long as you, the native Californians, were to be despoiled of yourlands, I think it would have been better to have passed a law ofconfiscation. Then we would have stood before the world with theresponsibility of that barbarous act upon own shoulders. That would havebeen a national shame, but not so great as that of guaranteeing, bytreaty, a protection which was not only withheld, but which wasdenied,--snatched away, treacherously,--making its denial legal byenactments of retroactive laws. This I call disgraceful to the Americanname. Therefore, in my humble way and limited sphere, if I cannotrepeal, I will at least evade such unjust laws to the best of myability, and make them ineffective as far as I am individuallyconcerned. I only wish I could wipe out those stains on our nationalhonor, by repealing at once laws so discreditable to us. Yes, the moreso, as they bear directly upon the most defenseless, the most powerlessof our citizens--the orphaned Spano-Americans. So, then, I hope you willhelp me to avoid this American shame, by permitting me to pay for ourland whatever price you think just."
"Very well," said Don Mariano, pleased with Clarence's honest warmth,and to hear him express opinions and sentiments so very similar to hisown. "You can pay whatever you wish, or we can make an agreement that Iwill sell to you when I get my patent. Such is my understanding with Mr.Mechlin and also with your father."
"That is rather vague. I would prefer to pay to you now so much peracre. With the understanding that my father (or any one else) is not toknow I have made this purchase. I mean not for the present."
"Would your father object to it?"
"Perhaps not. And yet he might see in it a disclaimer from my part--acriticism. He is a settler--a '_Squatter_'--you know, and consequentlyvery sensitive about (what they call) '_rights of settlers under thelaw_.' He knows my sentiments, but one thing is my expressing them tohim, and another is to pay money for land he thinks he has lawfullyappropriated. It might seem to him, I imply that his locating perhapswas not altogether as honorable a transaction in my eyes, as it may belawful in the eyes of the lawmakers."
"You are certainly very honorable, and I am willing to abid
e by yourwishes in the matter," said Don Mariano. "You view this question exactlyas I do."
Clarence blushed with pleasure and bowed, saying:
"You are very kind, and that you, who are so generous, should be made tosuffer as you have, it is, I assure you, so revolting to me (as anAmerican and a civilized being) that I have felt great desire to go awayrather than to live among these short-sighted and unappreciative peoplethat have unfortunately fallen upon you."
Don Mariano laughed and said, "No don't go away. Let me have one friendat least, among so many opponents. Pay whatever you wish, and take asmuch land as you desire to have, but don't go."
"I thank you, indeed, but will you not name the price? I don't think itis right for me to put a price upon your property."
"My dear sir, that would be so if my property was not going into--smokeof sulphur--but as it is, and growing fast so 'beautifully less' that Isuppose even the $1.25 of government price ought to be a handsome figureto my weary eyes. So name any price you wish."
It was agreed that Clarence would pay $10.00 per acre, and take up 640acres where his father had already located. It was also understood thatthe purchase should not be mentioned to any one. Don Mariano exceptedonly his son Gabriel. Clarence said he would except his mother, inasmuchas she had told him to pay for the land or else she would not come toreside upon it.
Don Mariano said that he would like to mention it to his family and theMechlins, but feared that if only some allusion was overheard by theservants, it would be repeated.
"I have no objection to Mr. Mechlin knowing it," Clarence said.
"No, but they have for servants Hogsden and his wife, and they are verydishonorable. They would repeat it if by accident they heard it."
"It is a pity that Mrs. Mechlin don't send those two thieves away,"Victoriano said.
"Yes, I hear that the woman Hogsden repeats things she hears at theMechlins," Clarence said.
"Of course she does, and steals too, and yet Mrs. Mechlin keeps them,"Victoriano said, impatiently.
"Perhaps it would be best to say nothing, and I will watch my chance totell my father myself, that I paid for the land," Clarence said. He thenrose to go.
As he went down the veranda steps he met Milord returning, stilldragging the skein of silk. But this was no longer of bright variegatedhues, it was black with mud and sadly masticated by Milord's sharpteeth, which proudly held it as if challenging any one to take it.
"You wicked Milord. See what you have done with your poor mistress'silk. She will be distressed," said Victoriano.
On hearing himself thus apostrophised, Milord ran off again with hisplunder, and it was with difficulty that by the combined efforts ofVictoriano and Clarence he was at last captured, but the bright colorsof the silk had all disappeared, a blackened skein resembling a piece ofwet rope was pulled from Milord's sharp teeth.