T- 
 
 

A TALE 
 
 OF 
 
 SPANISH CALIFORNIA. 
 
LONDON 
 
 FEINTED BY SPOTTISWOODE AND CO. 
 NEW-STEEET SQUABB 
 
THE AMULET: 
 
 A TALE OF SPAOTSH CALIFOENIA, 
 
 * 
 
 To 
 
 t 
 
 LONDON : 
 LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 
 
 1865. 
 
Bancroft Libraiy 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THE accompanying Tale makes no claim to the 
 character of an elaborate work of fiction. 
 It was compiled rather than written, during short 
 intervals of leisure, from a variety of memoranda 
 and notes relating to the people, social habits, 
 V- occupations, sports, and physical characteristics 
 of the lower part of Alta-California. 
 
 In the year 1852 this was a thinly-populated 
 country, solely devoted to the raising of cattle and 
 $ horses. The proprietors of the soil were mostly 
 native Californians of Spanish or Mexican descent, 
 their labourers and herdsmen being either half- 
 castes or of pure Indian blood. 
 
 From the 37th parallel of latitude southwards, 
 the social aspect of the country was unchanged 
 by its cession to the United States. The tide of 
 enterprise, and the new race of Anglo-Americans, 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 which entered the country by the harbour of San 
 Francisco, set northwards towards the gold region ; 
 only a few gentlemen settling around San Jose, 
 or on the southern shores of the great bay. 
 
 The wealth of the great Eancheros (or cattle- 
 graziers) was increased ten-fold, owing to the 
 demand for cattle in the now populous gold 
 region of the north. This, however, was in some 
 measure balanced by a heavy land-tax imposed 
 by the United States Grovernment. 
 
 The sketches of social life, of physical geography 
 and scenery, as well as any notices of the vegetable 
 or animal inhabitants of the country, are based 
 on personal observation, and may be confirmed 
 by reference to the latter part of Mr. Froebels 
 valuable work on * Central America, Mexico, and 
 the Far West of the United States/ 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE I. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 LOS OJITOS (THE LITTLE SPRINGS) i 
 
 CHAPTEE II. 
 EL DORADO . 9 
 
 CHAPTEE III. 
 A CHECK 14 
 
 CHAPTEE IV. 
 A CROSS . . . . . .26 
 
 CHAPTEE V. 
 CUPID VESSUS PAN .36 
 
 CHAPTEE VI. 
 FORTUNE SMILES 45 
 
 CHAPTEE VII. 
 A MELODIOUS CHAPTER 57 
 
viii CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTEE Vin. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CRISTOBAL'S FIRST BEAR . ... . 7i 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 RETRIBUTION . ". . ^ . . " . 77 
 
 CHAPTEE X. 
 HESPER PHOSPHOR . . . . 91 
 
 CHAPTEE XI. 
 
 CURSORY . . . . 104 
 
 CHAPTEE XII. 
 EPISTOLARY ... . . , .117 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII. 
 SUMMARY . , . . . . . 126 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV. 
 A CAST FOR A LIFE. . ' . . . . 140 
 
 CHAPTEE XV. 
 
 QUEST AND BEQUEST . . .''.".'. 154 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI. 
 
 ELECTRIC SPARKS . . -. .' . /. . 165 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII. 
 THE RETURN OF EL PINTO . 176 
 
CONTENTS. 13 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A PASSAGE OF ARMS . ^ . . . . 185 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A WEARY VIGIL . . . . .192 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 SAINT MICHAEL TO THE RESCUE . . .211 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 LOST AND SOUGHT ...... 223 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 FOUND ........ 238 
 
 CHAPTER XXI1L 
 
 MEETINGS BY MOONLIGHT . . . 249 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 OMNES EODEM COGIMUR . 258 
 
 
THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 LOS OJITOS (THE LITTLE SPRINGS",. 
 
 rthe lower part of Alta California, between the 
 Sierra de Las Salinas and the sea-shore, lies a 
 pleasant tract of land. Its name is pronounced, 
 Anglice, Los O'hetos, the o's round and sonorous. 
 The little springs, rising near the house, unite, and 
 form a clear perennial stream, which, winding west- 
 ward for a mile, loses itself in the sea. 
 
 This Bancho is at the same distance north of the 
 equator as the island of Crete, or the valley of Cash- 
 mere ; so I will not descant upon its climate. The 
 house is a two-storied building, long and low, with a 
 red-tiled roof and broad overhanging eaves. A 
 double balcony or corridor runs along the front, 
 which looks westward towards the sea. On to these 
 corridors the doors and windows open, and at either 
 end is a cedar staircase. 
 
2 THE AMULET. 
 
 Before the great house, some twelve paces off, 
 stands a well- constructed ramada, or house of boughs, 
 about twenty-four feet square, open in front, and 
 supported by smooth pillars of the polo Colorado. A 
 few low stools are its only furniture. Over a fire in 
 the middle are suspended three iron vessels ; and at 
 about two o'clock in the afternoon, the bower is 
 redolent of stewed beef, chilis, tomatas, and what 
 not. In hot weather it serves both for kitchen and 
 comedor. You lounge against a pillar with your 
 plate in hand, or sit upon a stool with plate on 
 knees, according to fancy. But I anticipate. A 
 solitary Indian girl tends the pots : otherwise house 
 and bower are tenantless. 
 
 Let us follow the babbling stream. It soon leads us 
 to a pretty tableau, and a prettier babble than its own. 
 Four women are kneeling, each at the upper end of 
 a smooth white board, which slopes down from her 
 waist to the pebbles on either margin of the stream. 
 They are washing. First, they dash a gourd of 
 water over the linen, then rub it with soap, then 
 knead it vigorously, and so on ; until at last it is 
 tightly twisted and thrown aside into a basket. 
 
 The morning is hot, but our lady- washers are 
 under the shelter of a broad canopy which spans the 
 rivulet. Weeping willows grow on either side, and in 
 this spot their long boughs have been interlaced, so 
 as to form a grateful shade. 
 
 Two of these ladies are on either side of the brook, 
 which, just here, is narrow and deep, and is bridged 
 
LOS OJITOS (THE LITTLE SPRINGS}. 3 
 
 over above the bower. Their lithe movements, as 
 they rock to and fro, stoop forward to dip the gourd, 
 or turn round to throw a finished piece into the 
 basket, enable you to see them all four in various 
 positions ; and an animated conversation which is 
 going on enables you to hear the modulation of their 
 voices, with the ripple of the current as an under- 
 tone. 
 
 They talk volubly, softening the hard consonants, 
 gliding from one to another, but lingering upon the 
 broad vowels, a fair balance of sound, graceful and 
 well poised. 
 
 One lady was several years older than the other 
 three. Now and again one of these would call her 
 Madre, though one only was her child. The other 
 two were younger sisters of her husband, but had 
 never known a mother. I think either of those girls 
 would have given up a lover at Madre's bidding ; yet 
 one must admit that they have a headstrong, un- 
 reasoning way about those matters, as we shall 
 perhaps see before long., 
 
 But I do not get on with my sketch. The senior 
 lady has a melancholy face, unrelieved by a loose 
 black dress, which is confined but slightly at the 
 waist with a heavy cord. There is no moroseness, 
 however, about her look, and much play about the 
 mouth when she speaks. Her hair is silky and black, 
 her eyes dark and lustrous. 
 
 The two seiioritas on the other side of the stream 
 resemble each other closely, but the first has hair a 
 
 B2 
 
4- THE AMULET. 
 
 shade lighter than the other. They both have droop- 
 ing, black-fringed eyelids, pearly teeth, and a com- 
 plexion clear but brunette. The thick soft hair falls 
 rather forward on forehead and cheek, but is drawn 
 back and divided behind the neck, falling down the 
 back in two broad plaits. A little bright kerchief 
 round the neck heightens the colour, as you know. 
 These are Julia and Francesca. 
 
 The young lady behind Madre, the one whom they 
 * call ' Nita ' and occasionally ' Mna,' is unlike the rest. 
 If it were not for a frequent loving look, you would 
 scarcely take her for Madre's child. Her head is 
 rounder and her face smaller than those of the other 
 three. Loose masses of chesnut hair, with a golden 
 tinge flashing through it in her constant movements, 
 fall about her sweet face and bosom. Ever and anon 
 she tosses them back, in vain, except to show you the 
 lilies and roses of her cheek. And as to her lips, we 
 know there is nothing in art or nature like a pair of 
 ruby lips with a glimmer of pearls between. More- 
 over, her eyes are heavenly blue, and she is at this 
 time just seventeen years of age. 
 
 I was obliged to have a donzella of seventeen. You 
 would never have read my story without her ; and if 
 it had been necessary to scour the country far and 
 near, I must have found her : so now, as she happens 
 to be in limine, let us be content. 
 
 On the former evening, two strangers, travel-soiled 
 and on foot, asked entertainment for the night. 
 ' Pasen adelante, senoresj had been the courteous 
 
LOS OJITOS (THE LITTLE SPRINGS). 5 
 
 welcome. So the travellers walked in and laid their 
 burdens aside ; the cigarito was proffered and smoked : 
 conversation ran on in its former channel, a pastoral 
 one ; glanced thence to poesy, to music. Don Mariano 
 (Madre's husband) played the guitar and sang (all 
 Mexicans do) ; the ladies sang in chorus ; Dons 
 Esteban and Alberto, Mariano's younger brothers, 
 sang ; Don Guillermo, the big stranger, sang ; and 
 the puzzle to the whole party was that he fingered 
 the guitar and sang better than the Senor himself, 
 the pink of caballeros, and spoke a purer Castilian than 
 Madre herself, in whose veins ran the bluest blood of 
 Old Castile. 
 
 Yet his physique was of the Saxon type, and every 
 now and then he would address his comrade in Eng 
 lish. The latter was a surly-looking young man, 
 half proud, half shy, who either was unable or un- 
 willing to join the conversation. 
 
 Only when the ladies had retired, and the gentle- 
 men were consuming tobacco in the corridor below, 
 did the host ask his guests whence they came. ' From 
 the northern mines ; by way of San Francisco and 
 Monterey.' 'On foot ?' [A Ranchero never walks 
 fifty yards.] ' Yes, on foot.' ' Ca-a-Rramba! Two 
 hundred leagues a- foot ! Aquellos hombres ! ' 
 
 Well, the four ladies are washing away with great 
 vigour, as we have said, and holding an animated con- 
 versation. What we noticed when listening just now 
 was their sweetness of voice and grace of utterance ; 
 but if we were to familiarise ourselves with the 
 
6 THE AMULET. 
 
 language and their rapid way of speaking, we should 
 hear them discussing their new acquaintances. 
 
 The manners and speech of Don Gruillermo have 
 impressed them favourably, and a certain romantic 
 air about the other stranger, with his short dark 
 curly hair, and sad grey eyes, was more attractive to 
 the ladies than to those astute Dons Esteban and 
 Alberto. 
 
 Last evening, and again at the morning chocolate, 
 the senoras noticed that ' Carlo,' as his friend called 
 him, did not eat till they were served, and would wait 
 on them instead of letting them serve him as they 
 would have done. The simple creatures also noticed 
 that his hands were small and delicate, though 
 bronzed by exposure ; whereas the large paws of 
 Esteban and Alberto protruded angrily from the tight 
 sleeves of their short Banchero jackets. 
 
 ' Pero son YanquesJ said the Dona Julia, in a 
 dolorous tone : for these new citizens were ill affected 
 to the Great Republic. [A.D. 1852.] 
 
 ' No, my child,' Madre answered ; ' son Ingleses, 
 they are Englishmen. The cdbellero told your brother 
 this morning. He was attached to the British Lega- 
 tion in Madrid.' 
 
 1 Paz con Inglaterra, 
 Y con todo el mundo guerra,' * 
 
 shrilled Juanita, tossing back her fulvous locks and 
 looking defiance at Julia. But the latter main- 
 
 * Peace with England, and war with all the world. 
 
LOS JIT 08 (THE LITTLE SPRINGS}. 7 
 
 tained a peaceful demeanour, and soaped her linen 
 demurely. 
 
 In the meantime a scene of still greater activity is 
 taking place in the corral, at a distance of half a 
 league. 
 
 The corral is an oblong cattle-pen, formed of red- 
 wood stakes, driven deep into the ground. At one 
 end a hundred and twenty cows and as many calves 
 were standing huddled, lowing angrily. At the other 
 end the Dons Esteban and Alberto presided over a 
 large fire, which struggled fitfully against the bright 
 sunlight. Each held a long branding rod, with one 
 end in the fire. The Seiior Don Mariano, on a strong 
 roan horse, occupied the middle space, and poised a 
 lasso : near him stood three vaqueros, or native herds- 
 men. The Englishmen had been counselled, in plain 
 Spanish, to keep behind the fire, and to look out for 
 squalls : so they stood quietly and watched the per- 
 formance. 
 
 The Senor cast his lasso into the throng : the roan 
 backed, and dragged out a heifer. Then the three 
 vaqueros seized the lasso and ran firewards, dragging 
 the heifer across the open space. The cow charged, 
 but Don Mariano engaged her midway, waving his 
 sombrero, and making his horse prance and curvet 
 before the furious beast. So the first yearling was 
 branded, loosed, and bounded bellowing back to its 
 angry parent. These manoeuvres were repeated, and 
 the clamour increased. 
 
 1 Mira estos hombres !' said Alberto to his brother, 
 
8 THE AMULET. 
 
 in consternation ; for, in defiance of orders, the two 
 strangers moved along under the palisade, approach- 
 ing the herd ; nearer, nearer : the brutes shrink 
 back ; Don Ghiillermo draws the noose of a lasso 
 round a heifer's neck, grasps the tail also, and drags 
 it off, saying to the other, ' Have a care, Carlo P 
 
 ' Quedado ! ' shouted Don Mariano from the centre ; 
 for in the meanwhile the maternal cow came down 
 upon them furiously ; and as Carlo slipped aside, her 
 horn passed through his flannel shirt, above the belt. 
 
 'Ca-a-jRramba!' exclaimed the horseman: but the 
 simple Carlo, turning, vexed the cow in the rear : 
 and another roar came from the fire as the calf was 
 branded. Then the game grew fast and fiery. Don 
 Mariano and his men, Don Guillermo and his friend, 
 vied with each other which should make the most 
 despatch. 
 
 As they returned to the house, Don Alberto made 
 the following remark to Don Esteban : ' Demonios son 
 estos hombres!' 
 
 Nor was the proof of their energy lost on Mariano 
 Arianas, that keen observer, on the roan horse. 
 
CHAPTER IT. 
 
 EL DORADO. 
 
 What is here ? 
 Gold ? Yellow glittering precious gold. 
 
 ALL the world 's a stage. Having plunged in 
 medias res, and introduced the ladies first, ac- 
 cording to the laws of arts and manners, let us restore 
 an act, played out some two months since, but in 
 which our two Englishmen sustained the principal 
 parts. 
 
 In a small log cabin at the foot of Mount Shaste, 
 two men are sleeping. The last ember has ceased to 
 glow. A cold grey light and a low temperature 
 pervade the place. The latitude is that of Tortosa, 
 Naples, and the Golden. Horn : but fourteen thousand 
 feet above the valley, above the climbing groves of 
 oak and cypress, soars the radiant peak of Shaste, 
 crowned with everlasting snow : wherefore it is cold. 
 
 One of the sleepers moves, yawns, flings abroad his 
 arms, and then with bent elbow rests his head upon 
 one hand. He is a splendid fellow. You may see it 
 in the dusky light of dawn. Large of limb, and 
 broad of shoulder ; grey-eyed and tawny-haired. 
 
10 THE AMULET. 
 
 With, a look half- quaint, half- sad, he turned to 
 the companion of his woes, and mused, 'My poor 
 Carlo ! No wonder it has floored you. Hope deferred 
 for five weary months, and then swept away with 
 such a rude harsh hand. And those pretty brats at 
 . home, to whom my legacy should have gone. Ah, 
 well ! sighing won't dam a watercourse. How Carlo 
 raged ! and now the storm is spent, how dolorously 
 he clings to mother earth ! ' And down the gorges 
 plunged the river with its ceaseless roar. 
 
 William Briggs lifted his gaunt body from the 
 ground, and presently his broad back loomed over a 
 cheerful blaze : but the torrent's roar sounded in his 
 ears like the mocking of a fiend : and Carlo, groaning 
 in his sleep, and clutching at the earth with pallid 
 fingers, smote him with a sense of wretchedness. 
 
 For on the former day a calamity had befallen 
 them. Ill brooking the throng of men in populous 
 diggings, where the gold was known to be plentiful, 
 they had moved up the country some months before; 
 packing their tools and blankets, with ammunition 
 and provisions, upon a much-enduring mule, and 
 travelling themselves on foot, carrying each a rifle, 
 for this was the land of the red-deer and the grizzly 
 bear. 
 
 Beating up the left bank of the river,* sometimes 
 on its margin, sometimes toiling over rugged cliffs, 
 through which it dashes violently, they ' prospected ' 
 
 * Eio Sacramento. 
 
EL DORADO. 11 
 
 as they went along. The river-bed had yielded large 
 quantities of gold in its lower course, and they 
 thought that in some hollow nearer to its source a 
 deposit might be found. 
 
 And so it was. They struck upon a crevice in the 
 bed-rock. It ran outwards from the river, and then 
 along, parallel with it. Its jagged ridges were filled 
 and overlaid with a stiff clay, in which the gold was 
 bedded. So they cleared a space of surface earth, a 
 dozen feet in width, and about one hundred and fifty 
 yards in length, ' prospecting ' as they reached the 
 clay, which guided them along the crevice. 
 
 Months of severe labour and privation. They 
 built a hut on the mountain slope, toiled and slept, 
 toiled and slept ; for the gold-fever was upon them ; 
 in their veins coursed the fire, and over them the 
 demon flapped his wings. 
 
 Sunday was spared from toil, with bitter but con- 
 strained reluctance. Life was more than gold. Their 
 flour was exhausted : the tea had gone. They eked 
 out the ammunition jealously : each charge of powder 
 and ounce of lead representing so much meat. Only 
 on Sunday was a shot fired : then one would take the 
 constant mule, and go up into the mountains to seek 
 the deer: the other would hover about the claim, 
 armed, and ill at ease ; for now the gold-fever was 
 spreading, the Indians were on the gold- trail ; they 
 were no longer to be trusted. They would lurk 
 round the cutting, and after pelting storms, when 
 the sun glistened on the clay or naked rock, re- 
 
12 THE AMULET. 
 
 vealing its treasures, would gather round impetuously 
 to seize the glittering grains. 
 
 But the two friends resolved that their claim 
 should be sacred, and that if necessary they would 
 guard it with their lives. So it was a weary time 
 for stomach, heart, and brain : and when at last the 
 treasure was within their grasp, when the precious 
 clay, with its untold wealth, was collected in a few 
 small mounds, and a week's careful washing would 
 have set them free, free with the whole world for 
 their home, and a welcome everywhere among the 
 haunts of men ; down had come the rushing torrent, 
 and swept it all away in one wild flood, and left them 
 homeless on the mountain-side. 
 
 So the two wanderers sat over their fire, tearing 
 their shred of salted vension, each willing that the 
 other should begin to talk. Most of us know what 
 it is to complete a task, and to feel that we can do no 
 more. So it was with them. They had toiled, en- 
 dured, suffered. The limit had been reached. The 
 same feeling was uppermost with each, 'Let us go.' 
 
 Silently they put their blankets on the patient 
 mule, little else they had to pack, and turned their 
 faces southwards. 
 
 ***** 
 
 At San Franciso they exchanged their little bag 
 of prospect-gold for coin. It was about a hundred 
 dollars, or less than 20 in all. 
 
 Still, Briggs was the possessor or inheritor of 2, 000, 
 and knew that he might draw on the firm of Starchie 
 
EL DOE ADO. ]3 
 
 for part or whole of that sum ; but five little sisters 
 and three tall lads had to be provided for at ' home :' 
 and William, whose heart was big and strong like his 
 body, would leave his legacy to who might want it 
 more, and turn an honest penny for himself. 
 
 Starchie senior was an old friend of William's 
 father. He advised the two adventurers to go still 
 southwards, and take to farming or to cattle-grazing. 
 William might buy land, at a dollar and a quarter 
 per acre, of the State ; or he might spend a year 
 on a Rancho, which was in good working trim, to 
 get an insight into the system. He gave William an 
 introduction to one Senor Don Jose Joaquin, &c. ; 
 and the friends started together, modestly, on foot. 
 
 But Carlo knew nothing about William's legacy, or 
 alluring prospects. He cared little about merchant 
 or hidalgo ; for a dull cloud had fallen and closed 
 around him. Through the darkness he grasped one 
 hand only, and firmly : and it will be seen hereafter 
 that it is well to grasp a strong hand and to trust a 
 true heart. 
 
14. THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 A CHECK. 
 
 TWO or three days had elapsed since the arrival of 
 the two strangers at Los Ojitos. They stood at 
 their bedroom door in the clear moonlight. 
 
 ' Slow place this, Carlo,' said one. 
 
 ' Well, I don't know,' was the answer ; * we wanted 
 to see something of Ranchero-life, and I'm sure the 
 stout hidalgo is awfully civil.' 
 
 W. B. You called him * the fat Don ' a day or two 
 ago. 
 
 C. Yes ; but that was my country manners. One 
 gets a little polish, living amongst women. 
 
 W. B. Hem ! Don't you think now, we might move 
 southwards to-morrow ? 
 
 C. 0, of course, if you like. * Teucro ducej &c. 
 
 But this was said testily. So he of the tawny 
 beard made answer, 
 
 ' You know I was made for a pioneer, Carlo. I'll 
 go to-morrow and send you word when I find work 
 for us both. There are plenty of people passing this 
 way from the southward.' 
 
 C. No, by Zeus, I won't stay without you. Let's 
 
A CHECK. 15 
 
 have one more day, and I'll go. [After a pause.] I 
 say, dragoman, what's the English for ArdiUa ? 
 
 W. B. Squirrel. Suppose we say a grey tree 
 squirrel, as you want one for a lady. 
 
 C. How terribly sharp you're getting ground ! 
 W. B. Then we start on Friday morning. Is it a 
 bargain ? 
 
 C. If you hold to it. 
 
 Then the young man got into bed, thinking to 
 himself, ' Confound the old Mentor ! He's right 
 though. I can't stand the fire of La Nina's eyes. 
 Blue fire, by all that's celestial ! And what a golden 
 
 glory of hair it is ! And what a fool I am ! I ' 
 
 But sleep overtook him at this juncture, and held 
 the dominion till day began to dawn ; when Carlo 
 shouldered his rifle, stole down the wooden stairs, 
 and made for the Eastern hills. 
 
 He strode across the plain, wishing to reach the 
 hills before the sun was up. A rush of horses 
 through the damp grass gained upon him, and soon 
 Alberto reined up at his side with a led horse. 
 
 Don A. On the table are tortillas and chocolate, 
 friend ; let us return. 
 
 0. A thousand thanks, Senor Don Alberto. But I 
 am weary of the plains. I seek the mountains. 
 
 Don A. A lioness is in the spurs of Las Sali- 
 nas. We lost a full-grown steer not many days 
 since. 
 
 C. Will you join me ? We might encounter your 
 enemy. 
 
16 THE AMULET. 
 
 But the horseman declined this invitation, and re- 
 turned to his chocolate. 
 
 Invigorated with the clear morning air, and amused 
 at the idea of Don Alberto stalking a puma, in his 
 equestrian costume of short chaqueta, and calzoneras, 
 adorned with silver buttons, and open at the outside 
 seam, displaying the white linen drawers, the mani- 
 fold deer- skin gaiter, and the light deer- skin boot 
 with its huge jingling spur ; amused at this mental 
 picture, the cynic pursued his way, worked up the 
 course of a stream, and looking up, saw above him a 
 proud stag, standing in a broad beam of the morning 
 sun. For an instant it returned his gaze, and then, 
 with a toss of the antlered head, turned away, and 
 was lost to sight. He reached the eminence and 
 looked round. Undulating hills, bristling with crops 
 of wild mustard, lay between him and the mountains. 
 A few scrub oak were growing by the watercourses, 
 round the bases of the hills. 
 
 Now the stag glided from a dark coppice on the 
 eastern slope, bounded over a dry chasm, and up the 
 flank of the opposite hill, in a series of great jumps ; 
 so the sportsman knew that it was a black-tailed 
 buck [Cervus macrotis}. 
 
 On and on, bounding above the mustard crests, 
 and followed by a switching sound, as the shrill stiff 
 weed whistled in its track. 
 
 Carlo beat round the northern skirt of the hill, 
 but before reaching the trail on the other side, he 
 saw the stag across the next ravine, making his way 
 over the hill beyond, and still due east. 
 
A CHECK. 17 
 
 So lie stalked the deer till noon, when it no longer 
 showed its heels aloft in air, but toiled wearily, 
 dragging its branching horns through the relentless 
 weed. 
 
 JN"ow he knew that the buck would seek covert. 
 Beyond them was a knoll with a crest of holm-oak, 
 interspersed with grey boulders and clumps of 
 juniper. The stag would rest in this pleasant spot. 
 So Carlo crawled up the lee- side on hands and knees, 
 and lurked behind a tree. 
 
 The sun is now due south. Foreshortened shadows 
 fall dark and hard upon the ground. Certain that 
 the game is close, Carlo stands there faint and weary, 
 knowing that la leona, if she came that way, would 
 try his nerve. 
 
 But the harsh short bark of the coyote* comes 
 down the valley, nearer and nearer : two, three, four, 
 or five, running down a trail. On a sudden they 
 come to a check. A harsh clamour ensues. They 
 have chanced on a cross trail. ' So, so ! ' thinks 
 the hungry man under the holm-oak, and cocks his 
 piece. 
 
 Then the stag springs up from a covert close at 
 hand, and stands with heaving sides, staring wildly 
 up the pass. But a foe more terrible than the coyote 
 is on his flank. The rifle's sharp crack rings a death- 
 note in his ear. Down he lies : no bounding now : a 
 quivering of limbs : a lolling out of the tongue : a 
 glazing over of that splendid eye. 
 
 * Lysiscus Caygottis. Anglo-American, Prairie-wolf. 
 C 
 
18 THE AMULET. 
 
 Carlo cooked and ate Ms kidney in the ravine, for 
 there was water there. Ever and again from the 
 knoll above came the weird barking, a wild refrain ; 
 but a few strips of flannel swaying in the breeze 
 secured his prize, and he again struck eastward. 
 
 Beyond the line of mustard, he found fair upland 
 pastures, still farther a forest of white oak. Here 
 the tree squirrel sleeps away the afternoon in leafy 
 solitudes. At the least disturbance it awakes and 
 utters a low soft whistle. 
 
 Such a sound now greeted his longing ears under 
 the oak trees. Then a pale grey shadow glided in 
 and out among the branches. He watched patiently 
 where it disappeared. At length the tip of a tail, 
 rising a little, then a twinkling eye, peering under it. 
 Half an inch below ; steady ; fire ! 
 
 So this wily sportsman knocked a bit of bark off 
 under a squirrel's nose, and secured the timid animal 
 without injury. The tail was perfect : a brush of 
 silver grey longer than the whole body. Creeping 
 down the back, too, new fur gave promise of a goodly 
 summer coat. 
 
 Carlo hooded the grey friar with his tobacco- 
 pouch. 'You little beggar,' he said, 'don't I envy 
 you ! ' and turned homewards with a light heart. 
 But the light heart grew heavy as ho went. The 
 cloud was over him again. ' Home,' he thought, 
 4 what home ? ' and smiled bitterly. 
 
 But Don Guillermo breakfasted at the Bancho, and 
 afterwards falling to work on the trunk of a tree 
 
A CHECK. 19 
 
 which was lying in the court, took what he was 
 wont to call ' a breather.' The three girls stood in 
 the upper balcony, overlooking his work. Julia on 
 one side, and Erancesca on the other, each had an 
 arm round Nita's little waist. * I won't stay,' she 
 said ; ' I tell you I don't like him. He is cold, like 
 Esteban, and reads one's thoughts, like papa.' 
 
 ' But you shall stay, Nina de mis ojos ! ' said Julia 
 softly. ' He is brave and gentle : and see how strong 
 he is ! ' 
 
 And still they looked on : but William, unconscious 
 of their looking, hewed and hacked away. 
 
 At the sound of horses approaching, the donzellas 
 fled : but Don Mariano, with a led horse, surprised 
 the Englishman at his work. 
 
 William mounted, and rode with his host down to 
 the sea- shore, and along the sand at a pleasant canter. 
 The swell broke on the shore with solemn thunder, 
 and sent its foaming flakes scudding at the horses' 
 feet. Don Mariano was riding the roan, William 
 a powerful chesnut. ' Civil fellow this Arianas,' 
 thought the latter; 'no humbug about him. Fine 
 beast this : splendid stride ! ' 
 
 4 At how much do you value this horse ? ' he 
 asked. 
 
 ' At the price of your acceptance,' was the ready 
 answer, as if the other had been reading his thought: 
 Alberto shall select a young horse for Don Carlos. 
 He is a light weight.' 
 
 ' But we are povres,' pleaded William. 
 c2 
 
20 THE AMULET. 
 
 1 You are rich in a service which I shall ask at 
 your hands,' said the hidalgo. 
 
 And William said, ' It is granted before you ask.' 
 
 What the favour was which the rich man had to 
 ask of the poor will be seen by-and-by. William in 
 the meantime beguiled the dinner-hour by telling the 
 story of their mining disaster. 
 
 1 Ouan presto se va el placer ! ' said the Don, pun- 
 ning on his misfortune. But William garnished his 
 tale with the exploits of Don Carlos how he had 
 fought a drawn battle with a bear, how he had pre- 
 vailed against a warrior of the Crowfeet tribe, and 
 made a friend of his vanquished foe. And you 
 might have thought that the narrator had been sit- 
 ting by all those months, with folded arms, or had 
 been looking on serenely from the heights of Mount 
 Shaste or Olympus. 
 
 Alberto and Esteban were going to saddle some of 
 the three-year-olds that afternoon : would Don Guil- 
 lermo join them ? So the three young men rode off, 
 with Cristobal, the chief vaqiiero ; but the Senor 
 would smoke his cigarito with the ladies. 
 
 As they rode away Don Mariano said to his wife, 
 ' It is well. He goes to Santa Perona.' 
 
 4 And Don Carlos ? ' 
 
 ' Goes with his friend.' 
 
 Whereupon Julia rose up and kissed Juanita's 
 forehead ; and the latter young lady clasped Julia's 
 hand, pressed it to her lips and then to her breast, 
 as much as to say, ' It is with love to you that my 
 heart beats so.' 
 
A CHECK. VI 
 
 The family of Arianas were assembled for the 
 evening meal when Carlo appeared in front of the 
 ramada. The ladies greeted him : ' Buenas tardes, 
 Don Carlos.' But Alberto said, satirically, ' Buenas 
 noches, senor.' 
 
 i Come, senor,' said Madre : ' sit 'near to me, and 
 relate your adventures. The lion has not killed you: 
 but what ravens fed you in the desert ? ' 
 
 ' This hungry bird, senora,' he said, pointing to his 
 rifle. 
 
 Don Mariano lifted the heavy piece curiously. 
 ' And what food did it bring ? ' he asked. 
 
 ' A kidney.' 
 
 ' Kidney ? ' 
 
 ' From a black -tailed buck. But it was too heavy 
 for the poor Ingles, or he would have laid it here.' 
 And Carlo laid his battered sombrero at Madre's feet. 
 
 She smiled, and the Don thought within himself, 
 ' Bueno ! It is caballero, this poor Ingles' 
 
 ' But if your Grace will lend me a little mule, I 
 will return with the buck before the moon is over- 
 head.' 
 
 William had come in meanwhile. ' We'll go to- 
 gether, Carlo,' he said ; ' I want to talk to you.' 
 
 Horses were at their disposal, and a sumpter mule. 
 Don Mariano would accompany them, or Alberto. 
 No, the Englishmen would not trespass on their 
 kindness. A moonlit walk in the hills would please 
 them well. Una mulita, as Carlo had said, to carry 
 the buck : no more. 
 
22 THE AMULET. 
 
 Then the hunter modestly unrolled a little bundle, 
 and produced the hooded squirrel. 
 
 Every one looked except Juanita, who cast down 
 her eyes ; and again her heart beat loudly. 
 
 1 Alma mia,' said her mother. ' The cabalUro is 
 better than his word. See what he has brought you : 
 Ardilla bonita ! ' 
 
 * A favour to your father's guest, seiiora,' he said, 
 giving it into the young lady's hands. 
 
 Then she looked at him with a tear in her eye; and 
 a little sigh, but no word escaped her lips. That sly 
 fellow, Don Gruillermo, had elevated his friend to the 
 rank of a hero, you see. 
 
 Carlo has since been heard to say that at that 
 moment he felt like a suddenly enriched pauper ; 
 bewildered by a host of vivid sensations, ' wheeling 
 with precipitate paces ' through the brain. One 
 brooding fear is present the fear of waking to find 
 it was a dream. 
 
 As far as one could observe, however, he was wide 
 awake, and eating heartily, a moment afterwards ; 
 saying little, for his stock of Spanish was small, and 
 he was well aware that those supercilious Dons, 
 Esteban and Alberto, would be glad to catch him 
 tripping. 
 
 But now the sunipter mule is saddled. Don Gruil- 
 lermo declines the services of Cristobal, the chief 
 vaquero. They will take no dogs. Only the large 
 English pistols, which bite when they bark, and a 
 little tobacco in Carlo's seal-skin pouch. Nita gives 
 
A CHECK. 23 
 
 it up reluctantly. She likes not this night wander- 
 ing. Don Carlos is already tired. She wants no 
 venison. So she would tell Don Ghiillermo, if it were 
 not for that basilisk eye of Alberto watching her. 
 
 The two friends were accustomed to travel by 
 moonlight, with a sumpter mule. As they went, they 
 talked. 
 
 W. B. You saw the chesnut horse, with a star ? 
 
 C. Yes. 
 
 W. B. Up to my weight, think you? Suit me, eh? 
 
 C. Poor old boy ! I wish you may get it. 
 
 W. B. En effet, it's mine. 
 
 C. Yours ? 
 
 W. B. Yes ; and you're to have a pmto. 
 
 C. What's that ? 
 
 W. B. A piebald, with a wall-eye and a rat-tail. 
 
 C. And other amiable qualities ? 
 
 W. B. Yes : jumps bow-backed and stiff-legged, 
 lays back its ears, and squints horribly. 
 
 C. What a lark ! 
 
 W. B. Zebra, you mean. Alberto held on by pum- 
 mel and cantle. Then I tried him. 
 
 G. Bravo, Briggs ! 
 
 W. B. But I couldn't get him far. He stood up 
 on his hind legs, and struck out like a prize-fighter. 
 Then I pulled him over on the top of me ; and what 
 with that, and laughing at the brute, my sides have 
 ached ever since. 
 
 C. But you don't mean to say they've given us the 
 nags ? 
 
24 THE AMULET. 
 
 W. B. It's a sort of retaining fee. There is method 
 in the hidalgo's generosity. It seems that Alberto 
 is about to come into his kingdom, which is an estate 
 between Las Salinas and the next ridge, the ' Monte 
 Diablo,' I think they call it. They have built a large 
 corral and a little house there ; but it has never been 
 stocked yet ; and we are going over to help Alberto. 
 He has five hundred head of his own, and Mariano 
 sends fifteen hundred to graze, for .this place is over- 
 stocked in the dry season. 
 
 C. Long live Alberto ! You'll be minister of the 
 interior, I suppose, and I shall be intrusted with the 
 portfolio of foreign affairs. 
 
 W. B. We shall have a rare time of it. There are 
 pumas and grizzlies, wolves and jackals, Tulare In- 
 dians and Texan horse-thieves, to be repelled or 
 exterminated. 
 
 Then William Briggs told his friend a sad tale 
 which Don Mariano had confided to him during their 
 morning ride. A notorious horse-thief, called ' El 
 Yanque' by the Spaniards, but ' Yankee Jim' in the 
 North, had been pursued in tjie previous year by a 
 party of Bancheros, amongst whom was Don Mariano's 
 only son. An encounter took place between El Yanque 
 with his desperadoes and the ill-armed but chivalrous 
 Spaniards, in which the young Arianas was mortally 
 wounded. 
 
 Then they mused for a time, each following the 
 bent of his own thought, until William spoke again. 
 
 W. B. Alberto is a curious fellow, Carlo. When 
 
A CHECK. 25 
 
 Mariano told him to select a good horse for you, he 
 said you should have ' El pinto, un caballo divinsimo.' 
 
 C. I was rather rude to him this morning. He 
 has been taking more interest in me than I care about, 
 for the last few days. But that's all over now. 
 When do we go ? 
 
 W. B. Not till Wednesday. And look here, Carlo. 
 I am going to take up the cudgels for Alberto. Say 
 that Los Ojitos were the Governor's house, and little 
 Nita my sister. Say she entertains a foolish pre- 
 ference for you, whose prospects are shady; you 
 wouldn't press your chance ? 
 
 C. Why do you ask me, Will ? Verbum sap. I'll 
 be downright rude to her ; and there's an end of it. 
 
 W. B. You can ride the divinest pinto, and break 
 him in : and there are the other ladies, you know. 
 
 Three or four hours passed; the mule with its load, 
 and the men with theirs, drew near the pleasant house 
 sleeping in calm moonlight ; not a sound reached 
 them, nor a human eye saw them ; but William, re- 
 verting to the sore subject, said, * Carlo, don't let 
 anything come between you and me : ' and the other 
 answered, 'All right, old boy, trust me, and I'll be 
 true.' 
 
26 THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 A CROSS. 
 And, like a lowly lover, down she kneels. 
 
 DON CAELOS adopted a different system of horse- 
 breaking to that which was in vogue at Los 
 Ojitos, and generally in Mexico and Spanish Cali- 
 fornia. 
 
 The custom there is to lasso a young horse, and 
 gradually to approach it, hand over hand along the 
 lasso. If it permits you so to draw near, you slip on 
 a halter, blindfold the horse, and saddle, while two 
 men stand at the head coaxing and soothing it. Then 
 you mount; the eye-cloth is removed; the horse stares 
 wildly about, and starts off at full speed. You apply 
 the end of a lasso, and goad with a spur, to maintain 
 the idea that not the horse, but you, are making the 
 pace. 
 
 But if a lassoed horse rejects your advances, another 
 noose is cast round its legs; it is tripped up; the near- 
 fore and off-hind legs are bound together, while 
 another man halters and blindfolds it. 
 
 Bound in this way, it is allowed to rise, and the 
 saddle is put on. 
 
A CROSS. *27 
 
 This latter was the process to which el pinto had 
 been submitted with such unsatisfactory results. 
 
 But Carlo rode it for a day or two without the 
 saddle, taught it to know his voice and to follow him 
 on foot, or to come when he clapped his hands. Then 
 he saddled, without blindfolding it or girding tightly. 
 After that he tightened the girths a little, and put a 
 sack of beans on the saddle. Lastly, he sprung into 
 the saddle himself ; but by that time the horse was 
 accustomed both to man and saddle. 
 
 At Los Ojitos the gentlemen were wont to look in 
 at the ramada, and to take a basin of milk porridge, 
 pinole con Uche, at ten o'clock in the forenoon. One 
 morning they were discussing this repast, and the 
 ladies were amongst them, though not partaking of 
 it, when a peculiar shout was heard ; and the pinto 
 came flying over the court wall with Don Carlos on 
 its back. 
 
 The hand of the Sen or was transferring a spoonful 
 of porridge to his mouth ; it was arrested midway, 
 and the mouth slowly ejaculated, 'Ca-a-Rramba!' 
 The wall was four feet high, and the idea of sur- 
 mounting it without a ladder had not previously 
 occurred to the Senor. 
 
 Leaving his horse at the sheds, Don Carlos came 
 to the bower for a light. No, he will not iake pinole ; 
 he ate a tortilla for breakfast. He clapped his hands 
 and the piebald trotted up and rubbed its head 
 against his breast, awaiting his pleasure. 
 
 Again Don Mariano gave vent to his wonder ; but 
 
28 THE AMULET. 
 
 Julia came forward and gave the horse a piece of 
 maize cake, and stroked it kindly, saying, ' Gaballo 
 bueno ! Pinto bonito /' 
 
 The ladies all knew the story of Alberto and 
 William finding their match in this quiet horse. The 
 Seiior, having heard it from Cristobal, told his wife, 
 who told it to the girls ; and they laughed together 
 till the tears came into their eyes. They were 
 pleased at the triumph of their surly guest, and 
 would make allusions to Alberto's discomfiture. 
 And their brother, being strong in ' badinage,' would 
 give as good as he took. 
 
 But the younger lady shrank from these en- 
 counters. She dreaded the basilisk eye of Alberto. 
 She had a secret, and felt sure that he knew it. And 
 oh, if he were to banter her on such a subject, how 
 could sbe bear it? She also knew that her father 
 was a discerner of secrets ; but that was another 
 thing. Now, by some revulsion in her habit of feel- 
 ing, she could have fallen at her father's feet and 
 confessed the truth to him, while she would fain 
 have concealed it from her mother. She felt, without 
 stopping to think why, that her father, the shrewd 
 man, trusted this stranger ; and forgot that a man 
 may be trusted by all, but only loved by one. 
 
 Those were restless days for Carlo, ill-conditioned 
 fellow that he was. Every day his manner grew 
 more cold and distant. He was still a puzzle to 
 Mariano, who thought he could read a man as you 
 would tell the points of a horse. The women set 
 
A CROSS. 29 
 
 little theories on foot. Could one of them have said 
 aught to pain him ? Had Alberto or Esteban done 
 so ? Had he and his friend quarrelled ? They were 
 seldom together at that time. Had the povre formed 
 an attachment in his land ; and did one of them re- 
 mind him painfully of the cruel one ? That must be 
 it. He avoided 'their society, only spoke to them 
 when addressed, and then in a hasty and abrupt 
 manner. He was a victim of Cupid, doubtless ; 
 pierced with a barbed arrow ; and all attempts to 
 draw it out increased his anguish. 
 
 But this legend only obtained in conclave. No 
 one of them believed in it. * He was so different the 
 first few days,' Nita thought. Poor little parasite ! 
 In those few days she had spread a thousand twining 
 tendrils ; and what was there for them to enfold ? 
 She gave in her adhesion to the story of unrequited 
 love, but had no faith in it. 
 
 In her heart rang the echo which his voice had 
 wakened ; a response deep and tender. A careless 
 hand might have swept over the chords for ages ; but 
 would they have responded in such tones ? What 
 answer ? There was no answer to her questionings, 
 no evidence for hope to cling to ; but hope was a 
 living power ; it could live, and would work, if she 
 had strength to trust it ; so she flung the whole 
 energy of her mind and heart into this simple lesson, 
 c Hope,' or perhaps I should say ' Trust ! ' 
 
 And, poor weak child, as we may think her, and 
 foolish, as in our self- sufficiency we may deem her 
 
30 THE AMULET. 
 
 wisdom, she had the strength of purpose to decide 
 on one thing, and the strength of nature, or of grace, 
 to do it. And this was no light thing ; it was giving 
 herself, for good or ill, to one absorbing sentiment. 
 And if the decision of her mother and those two 
 whom she called her sisters must be taken, they 
 would say it was for the latter, would weary her to 
 give it up, perhaps, and might a thing she could 
 not bear disparage him in their sadness. 
 
 So she kept it down, and overlaid it with sunny 
 smiles and seeming merriment ; thinking how easy it 
 would be to take these off again, and be at her own 
 sad silent level when alone. 
 
 And Carlo saw the painted coverlid, and took it 
 for the colour of her heart, and as he tightened the 
 girths and mounted the ' divinest pinto, he thought 
 to himself bitterly, ' It's all serene. Dear old Bill is 
 too punctilious. It makes him fanciful.' But if 
 Carlo had known how the young lady squeezed the 
 captive squirrel in her bedroom, and what large hot 
 tears fell upon it, he might have owned that his 
 friend was right, and that he was right for keeping 
 faith with him, and avoiding her. 
 
 ' The ladies want to give you a reading lesson/ 
 William said to him one evening ; but he shrank 
 from them, and going out to where the brawling of 
 the stream relieved his humour, spouted his ballads 
 to the trembling stars. Sad work he made of them, 
 no doubt, pronouncing his Spanish in an uncouth 
 
A CROSS. 31 
 
 way, and feeling more the power of the rhythm than 
 the sense ; 
 
 The sad mechanic exercise, 
 
 Like dull narcotics, numbing pain. 
 
 Meanwhile preparations were made for a start. 
 Two thousand head of cattle were selected, herded 
 together by day, and corraled together at night. As 
 far as could be, the herd was made gregarious. 
 
 William became expert in driving cattle, but his 
 friend was too impetuous. While the great herd 
 moved slowly along, Carlo would pick out some 
 straggler, dash at him with a loud cry, and drive 
 him to the front. As he executed this flank move- 
 ment, a young bull or steer would lower its head 
 and charge; so that a diversion was created, and 
 the pinto incurred terrible risks. 
 
 A calm energy and patience are the qualities which 
 make a good drover. If you urge cattle, they become 
 angry, and scatter as soon as the ground affords an 
 opportunity. 
 
 They were to take twelve horses, besides those 
 which they rode, to the new Bancho ; also four mules 
 with pack-saddles to carry the luggage. But the 
 brood mares were to be left at Los Ojitos for a time. 
 
 The day came at last. Such a long weary day for 
 Juanita ! Every one was in a bustle. Madre and 
 the two elder girls made a mountain of tortillas and 
 little maize puddings ; packed a hundred little par- 
 
32 THE AMULET. 
 
 eels, and these by fives in larger parcels ; stowing 
 them in unfathomable saddle-bags. 
 
 Don G-uillermo received a present of the most aro- 
 matic properties. It was a jar containing ten bundles 
 of cigaritos, rolled by fair fingers. For William had 
 by this time established friendly relations with them 
 all. With Mta he used to talk playfully, and help 
 her to keep that painted coverlid over her heart. 
 He knew her secret in part ; but did not William 
 remember his ' grande passion'? a much more 
 serious affair and had he not outlived it ? Love in 
 youth is like a frost in blossom time ; that year the 
 bud withers, the tree bears no fruit, but grows and 
 gathers strength for the years to come. 
 
 But to-day it all seemed frivolous and utterly 
 wearisome to that weary little heart. She scarcely 
 heard what people said to her, there was such a ring- 
 ing in her ears. And though she smiled, it was a 
 bitter smile, for she felt it was a lie. ' Why should 
 I belie my true, true heart ? ' she mused. ' Can I 
 not live and suffer ; ay, and die ? What is life ? 
 Ah me ! Ah me ! But he, too, is sad. If he should 
 know I love, would it not cheer his heart ? Courage, 
 courage ! What return do I ask ? A look, a word. 
 It is not much; yet how much! how much to me!' 
 
 In this way, or in some such way, the poor child, 
 in her bewilderment, tried to think. The power of 
 reason had deserted her. She was carried along by 
 a resistless impulse. 
 
 The moon was fall. They intended to travel 
 
A CROSS. 33 
 
 through the night, and to camp at sunrise on the 
 Estrella. There the cattle would rest or graze ; the 
 pasture was good, and the river would restrain their 
 wandering ; there they could lasso fresh horses, take 
 breakfast and a siesta. 
 
 The partida, was on the move. The caballeros had 
 taken leave of the ladies and were getting to horse : 
 Carlo's conscience smote him for want of courtesy. 
 He had lingered, and was stammering out some 
 thanks to Madre for all her kindness. Then he walked 
 out moodily to the sheds, and found there a white 
 figure standing by the horse. 
 
 Carlo would have avoided this interview. He knew 
 who it was, and could not trust himself with her 
 alone. Unlike hers was the love he felt for her. 
 Stifled now by his promise to William, by his sense 
 of honour, it smouldered like a hidden fire ; and all 
 around him wreathed the smoke of angry passion and 
 impious complaint of wrong. 
 
 'Don Carlos,' she said. 
 
 C. Seiiora? 
 
 N. You will not think ill of me ? 
 
 0. Of you? 
 
 N. I want you to accept something. 
 
 [Carlo was surprised, and in doubt.] 
 
 N. Why do you not speak ? My heart is break- 
 ing. 
 
 G. I dare not speak. I must not say what I would. 
 
 Then lifting up both her hands, she drew nearer. 
 He felt her breath on his mouth. ' Stoop, Don Car- 
 D 
 
34 THE AMULET. 
 
 los,' she said, and put a cord round Ms neck. At the 
 end of it was an amber crucifix which he had seen on 
 her breast. 
 
 Then they stood silently gazing at one another. 
 He held out his hand, and said ' Adios.' 
 
 She took his hand in both of hers, fell down on her 
 knees and kissed it. ' A-dios!' she sobbed pi teously ; 
 and a large warm tear fell on his wrist. 
 
 So he rode away, no longer moodily, and angry 
 with his lot ; but full of tenderness and hope. 
 
 Carlo rode by the side of his friend in the wake of 
 the great herd, which surged to and fro like troubled 
 waters in the pale moonlight ; but his memory lin- 
 gered under the dark shed ; he could still see the 
 white figure kneeling there with streaming locks, and 
 hear her sobbing piteously. How should he tell 
 William what had passed, how ask counsel of his 
 friend ? He could not tell him. He felt that it was 
 to him alone this bounteous child had given all she 
 had to give ; that he could not share even the know- 
 ledge of it with another. 'Adios ! Adios ! God guard 
 thee, little one ! ' 
 
 The night was long and toilsome, but none worked 
 more patiently, or felt less weary, than Carlo. Don 
 Mariano wondered at him. William wondered at 
 him. As the night wore on, Carlo began to hum old 
 tunes, and talk to his friend of early days, and recall 
 old memories of their boyhood. 
 
 And William thought, ' I can't make him out, to- 
 
A CEO S S. 35 
 
 night. Has anything passed between them ? No ; 
 I have his word against that. He must forget her. 
 It's well that we've got away.' 
 
 And Carlo would sometimes question himself: 
 ' Have I broken faith with Will ? Haven't I avoided 
 her ? Did I say anything then ? No, I am blame- 
 less. It is a free gift. Grod guard thee, sweet giver ! ' 
 
 'I can't get the subject out of my head,' thought 
 William, ' the poor fellow looks so happy. I wonder 
 whether old Brownlow left him anything, after all. 
 One has heard of such things before.' 
 
 Carlo had been adopted by Mr. Brownlow, an old 
 friend of his mother's, but had given grave offence to 
 his guardian, two years before our narrative opens. 
 News of the old man's death reached them, a month 
 ago, in San Francisco. Carlo was crushed with grief : 
 ' You know it isn't the money,' he said to his friend ; 
 ' you never thought me mercenary, did you ? ' 
 
 D 2 
 
36 THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 
 CUPID VERSUS PAN. 
 
 LET us pass over an interval of a few days, during 
 which Don Mariano and Esteban have returned 
 to Los Ojitos ; Don Alberto has also ridden away and 
 left our friends in charge. 
 
 We are now inland, between the two main ridges 
 of the Coast Range ; far from the hearing of the 
 wave : nearer to the haunts of the grizzly bear and 
 puma. 
 
 But it is broad daylight. The mighty hunters are 
 in their fastnesses ; and if it were not for a crowd of 
 vultures, wrangling about the bones of a defunct 
 steer, you would hear nothing but the lowing of kine 
 in distant pastures, and a whisper of the little river 
 Lorenzo in its grassy bank. 
 
 The house stands on a gently rising ground above 
 the stream. It is a small cottage with high pitched 
 roof, and a corridor in front, formed by the deep pro- 
 jecting eave. The roof is of red tiles, the walls of 
 brown adobes, or unbaked bricks. The house faces 
 and looks down the valley. At its back, or south 
 side, is a clump of white oaks, among which a few 
 tame cows are chewing the cud. 
 
CUPID VERSUS PAN. 37 
 
 The interior of the house is in two compartments, 
 of which the smaller is a bedroom. At about two 
 feet from the ground, coarse pieces of sail-cloth, by 
 way of beds, are stretched on rude frames of oak, and 
 above one of them is a square window, with a wooden 
 shutter. In the middle of this room stands a block 
 with a basin on the top, and on either side of the door 
 hang the implements of the toilet and the second 
 flannel shirt. This is the sanctum of the two Eng- 
 lishmen. 
 
 In the middle of the larger room is a rude table, 
 and round the walls are pegs and hooks of various 
 sizes, for hanging up saddles and bridles, lassos, cook- 
 ing utensils, tools, and what not. 
 
 The fire, burning night and day, is ten paces in 
 front of the house. There is the cuisine, there the 
 common rendezvous for food and gossip ; around it 
 men and dogs repose at night, and over it those nim- 
 ble vestals, the vaqueros, keep continual watch. 
 
 We have left the fair sex on the shore of the much- 
 resounding sea. Here we see nothing more like a 
 vestal virgin than Cristobal, standing in the camp- 
 fire's ruddy glare, an hour after midnight, or folding 
 his red so/rape round him in the morning mist. 
 
 William and his friend rise before the sun, walk a 
 few paces down the stream to where the water is 
 deep, plunge in and swim to the next rapids, then 
 return with dishevelled locks and whetted appetites. 
 The pinole con leche is being gently stirred over the 
 fire. They despatch a bowl of this delicious porridge, 
 
38 THE AMULET. 
 
 and a broiled steak ; or if fresh meat is not to be had, 
 a twist of carne secco, and a gourd of milk. 
 
 Then the five horsemen scour the country, collect 
 the cattle in a hollow, and count them. Cristobal, 
 with one vaguer o, goes in search of the stragglers. 
 The Englishmen return with the other vaquero. 
 Leaving him to yoke the draught oxen and follow, 
 they take their axes to a grove of beech and alder, 
 up the stream ; and soon the wood is ringing with 
 swift blows. The saplings fall and are stripped of 
 their branches more quickly than Manuel can haul 
 them away ; but oxen are slow brutes when yoked ; 
 and dragging trees over rough ground is tiresome 
 work. 
 
 By-and-by our friends return to dinner, and be- 
 guile the moments with literature, or needlework, 
 while the vaguer os perform culinary parts. But alas 
 for the bright- eyed naiads of the 'Little Springs,' 
 ' the delight of subtle laughter, the delight of low 
 replies ! ' They get through their * pig- tail,' as Carlo 
 calls the carne secco, with a garlic or a few beans ; 
 and then to work again. ' One can't be always bill- 
 ing and cooing like those doves, you know.' 
 
 ' At least, one isn't,' was the laconic answer ; and 
 again they scoured the country, collected and counted, 
 penned stragglers into the corral, and returned to the 
 great work. 
 
 It grows day by day. A double row of beech stems 
 are planted firmly in the ground. These are united 
 by cross-beams, forming ten stalls, each ten feet in 
 
CUPID VERSUS PAN. 39 
 
 width. Sloping cross-beams above form the roof, 
 thatched for the time being with miscellaneous 
 branches. The back and sides are filled in with tall 
 willow stakes, which will soon take root, and spread 
 tough shoots, so as to form a living wall. 
 
 Here they work till the sun is low on the ridges of 
 Las Salinas : then leaving Manuel to prepare for 
 supper, they gallop away to collect and count once 
 more. There are stragglers to be found, driven in, 
 and corraled, the whole herd to be counted, the 
 caballdda to be driven in, and fresh horses lassoed 
 for the next day's work. 
 
 Man and horse is weary : night is wearing away ; 
 Manuel sleeps over his mess of meat and beans; 
 round the herd a thousand coyotes hover with weird 
 lamentations, wailing for their prey. 
 
 At length supper is despatched. The long valley 
 glimmers in the misty moonlight : at its head stand 
 the little house and long range of sheds ; a camp-fire 
 flaring in their angle, and the dim forms of prostrate 
 men and dogs. The cattle are slumbering in the 
 dewy grass, a mile below ; but five tame cows, with 
 their calves, are among the clump of oaks near the 
 house. 
 
 The dogs whine in their sleep : their muzzles are 
 distorted with fear. The figure of Cristobal rises 
 from the earth, steals noiselessly to the house and 
 enters. 
 
 ' La lova!' 
 
 On a sudden, a sharp crash and a fearful howl ring 
 
40 THE AMULET 
 
 through the stillness ; the howl is taken up for miles 
 around, and in amongst the mountains by innu- 
 merable voices. Such a wail ! You might have 
 thought the last trump had sounded, and that the 
 sons of perdition answered to their doom. 
 
 As it died away, Carlo drew his rifle in at the 
 window, and said to William, ' Look at that fellow, 
 Cristobal.' 
 
 So William looked out and saw the grim vaquero 
 skinning a huge grey wolf, by the light of the moon. 
 ' The hide is no use, you know, if it's left on,' he said; 
 and they coiled themselves up again to sleep. 
 
 But Don Alberto, as we have said, had ridden 
 away. The caballero did not return to Los Ojitos 
 with his brothers, but turned his horse's head to the 
 south-west, in the direction of San Luiz Obispo. It 
 was the time of the Carnival. There was much 
 dancing, guitar- strumming, and serenading going on 
 at the time. For instance, one evening a ball took 
 place at the house of Don Bernardo, the merchant. 
 The elite of San Luiz were there. The daughters of 
 the merchant were adored of all. ' Graciosas son estas 
 muchacliasj was agreed on all hands ; and in a future 
 chapter we shall hear the Dona Barbara introduced 
 as 'La Grraciosa,' as though she were the type of 
 certain faculties which that word expresses. But 
 Alberto was attached to the Dona Isabel. 
 
 Was that Philomel, warbling in the garden, near 
 the lattice of the Senorita, when the moon was low ? 
 
CUPID VERSUS PAN. 41 
 
 A sonorous tone rolled above the silent shadows ; 
 and in its wake rang tremulous chords, as of a 
 stringed instrument. If you had shared the bower 
 of the melodious wooer, you might have seen, at an 
 open window, a white figure standing in pensive 
 mood, half shrouded by deep clusters of drooping 
 hair ; then you might have seen a small hand pressed 
 to lips, and waved towards the bower, and nothing 
 more ; still that was much to Philomel. 1 
 
 At another time the Dona Isabel sat on a gorgeous 
 ottoman, striped with crimson and yellow damask. 
 At her foot, on a cool Chinese mat, a gentleman 
 reclined on his stomach and elbows, with his face 
 raised to her knees, and his eyes to her face, which 
 drooped towards him. 
 
 ' Unkind ! ' he said. [The lady looked anything 
 but that.] 
 
 ' Senor ? ' 
 
 1 Call me Alberto, or I die.' 
 
 ' I am not cruel, Don Alberto : I may not disobey.' 
 
 ' Alas ! I thought that love was free.' 
 
 ' Is Alberto free ? ' 
 
 ' Bound to thee, vida mia ! ' 
 
 ' And loving the bond ? ' 
 
 How could the bondsman endure such a question ? 
 He laid his forehead down upon her knee, and 
 groaned. So she passed her soft fingers through his 
 hair, lifted up his head, and looking down into his 
 dark eyes asked 
 
 ' Wouldst thou suffer loss to keep the bond ? ' 
 
42 THE AMULET. 
 
 ' Rancho, cattle, horses, all ! ' 
 
 * AJiora, creo que me quieres.' (' Now I believe tliat 
 thou lovest me.') 
 
 Slie kissed his low brown forehead and patted his 
 head ; but the lover, stooping down in ecstasy, kissed 
 her feet. Whereupon the lady screamed ; and Barbara, 
 running in, saw this amusing tableau, which makes 
 her laugh even to the present day, she is so vivacious. 
 
 Towards the end of February, Alberto returned to 
 Santa Perona. He was in high spirits, but took little 
 interest in his Rancho. He looked languidly on the 
 new sheds, languidly on the cattle. He saw and, for 
 a day or two, shared the labour of his friends. ' Es 
 muchisimo travajo,' he remarked, and thought to 
 himself, ' Caramba! I love not work,' but did not 
 say so ; it was sufficiently evident. 
 
 Then William pressed him on the wants of the 
 estate. A waggon was indispensable. The mules 
 might be broken to harness, or a yoke of oxen would 
 draw it. Their ammunition was failing. They also 
 wanted strychnine to poison the wolves and coyotes. 
 In spite of their vigilance, five yearlings had already 
 fallen. It would be worse when the dry season came, 
 and the bears would fall upon the cattle, which would 
 then stray in search of pasture. 
 
 ' Es nada It is nothing,' replied the Ranchero. 
 ' What matter a few poor beasts ? ' 
 
 W. B. The axes and knives are almost useless : we 
 have rounded their edges with the soap-stone. You 
 must have a grindstone on the Rancho. 
 
CUPID VERSUS PAN. 43 
 
 Don A. But there are sandstones at the mission of 
 San Miguel, amigo : send a vaquero with a mule, and 
 beg one of the Fray Don Antonio. 
 
 W. B. We want nails too. We must build a 
 boundary house : ['Caramba!' interrupted the other.] 
 We shall want a two-handled saw. And why should 
 provisions be bought at the Pueblo ? It is not too 
 late. Is there not yet a fall of rain in April ? Let 
 us have a harrow, and seed, barley, maize, buck- 
 wheat. 
 
 Don A. But the unblest cattle will destroy the 
 crops. Walls of adobes will hardly suffice to keep 
 them out. 
 
 W. B. Above the valley is a glade difficult of 
 access. One man might guard it well. The soil 
 is fine. A stream waters it. Nature favours the 
 enterprise. 
 
 They rode up to the glade and examined it. It 
 was as William said. The Englishmen should have 
 their own way. Don Guillermo should give him a 
 list of what they required. Que carajo ! He would 
 sell a hundred head of cows two hundred ! A drove, 
 on its way to the mines, would pass their old camp 
 on the Estrella to-morrow : he would join them with 
 two hundred head, and would return before the end 
 of March. 
 
 * Alberto's is quite a limited monarchy,' said Carlo, 
 after he had gone. 
 
 W. B. He is his own minister of finance, at any 
 rate. 
 
 C. Worse luck. 
 
44- 1HE AMULEI. 
 
 W. B. You won't think me inquisitive ? 
 
 C. No. 
 
 W. B. What was that commission you asked him 
 to execute ? 
 
 C. A little parcel for Los Ojitos, to be left at San 
 Miguel. I had to tell him a lie about it : but I've 
 kept faith with you, old boy, and swallowed a bitter 
 pill. 
 
 The truth is, Carlo had reflected on the possession 
 of the amber cross, and sent it back. ' It's something 
 I brought away by mistake,' he said to Alberto ; at 
 which the other curled his moustache incredulously, 
 but promised to leave the parcel with the Fray Don 
 Antonio, to be forwarded. 
 
-45 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 FOKTUNE SMILES. 
 
 INSTEAD of standing at the full length of their 
 tether, shivering in the early dews, the horses 
 now lay comfortably in their stalls, and in the day- 
 time found rest there and shelter from the sun. The 
 calves of the tame cows were also stalled, partly for 
 their security and in part to prevent the cows from 
 roaming. A nucleus of living creatures was also 
 formed. The caballdda and the mules would hover 
 round, the draught oxen were more frequently at 
 hand ; and when the great herd was in danger from 
 bear or puma, it would move up the valley towards 
 the stronghold. 
 
 Their next object was to have a vaquero settled at 
 the northern boundary of the estate. Some one 
 would be required there to keep a check on the cattle, 
 when the extreme vigilance of the first few weeks had 
 been relaxed. 
 
 The valley, as far as a stream which formed its 
 northern limit, was six miles in length and a league 
 in average breadth. It would be well to construct 
 dams and artificial pools along the course of the 
 
46 THE AMULET. 
 
 stream, to secure water as the season advanced ; for 
 on the west were wide slopes and undulating sand- 
 hills interspersed with large lagoons ; on the east 
 were the timbered slopes and foot-hills of the Sierra 
 del Monte Diablo : on either hand was danger. 
 
 So they set to work and built a log-house on a 
 knoll near the boundary, having so chosen the posi- 
 tion that a column of smoke ascending from it might 
 be seen at head- quarters. 
 
 The wily Cristobal never nagged in merriment, 
 seeing his future home arise. At Los Ojitos he had 
 a wife and little boy. Here, Cristobal thought, they 
 should live and be happy ; he would gamble no more 
 at the Pueblos, but would work, and save, and be- 
 come a man of substance, and, who could tell ? some 
 day he might rise to the rank of a mayordomo. 
 
 While Manuel would broil the meat or boil the tea, 
 Cristobal taught the Englishmen to throw the lasso. 
 As soon as they could throw with certainty on foot, 
 he allowed them to practise from the saddle, which 
 they found easier, having a better elevation, and being 
 already good horsemen. El castano, William's horse, 
 had been trained before ; El pinto would now stand 
 like a rock when the cast was made ; though he and 
 his rider got many a roll together, and learnt their 
 business at the risk of their bones. 
 
 They were anxious to instal Cristobal in the log- 
 house ; but without power and lead, he would be 
 helpless in case of a raid. They ought also to have 
 sky-rockets. With their small force, so divided, and 
 
FOE TUNE SMILES. 47 
 
 with no rapid communication, every horse and mule 
 might be swept off the Rancho in a single night. 
 
 It was the middle of March. The chances of 
 Alberto's return before the April rains were passing 
 away, and, with them, the opportunity of securing a 
 harvest this year. 
 
 The Englishmen discussed these things with Cris- 
 tobal, who entered eagerly into all their plans. 
 William informed him that los Americanos, who were 
 settling in the valley of San Jose, harvested fifty and 
 sixty fold for every fanega sown ; and stated his con- 
 viction that the mountain glade was finer soil, and 
 would yield more. Manuel and Francisco had seen 
 as much at San Miguel, when they were muchachitos, 
 in the good days before the missions had been de- 
 spoiled. Carlo wondered whether Don Bernardo 
 would let them have seed on credit. He was reported 
 to be an enterprising merchant, and to cultivate a 
 garden at the Pueblo de los Angeles. 
 
 One hot evening, as the baffled Carlo, with slouched 
 hat and tattered shirt, stood in the corridor, a silent 
 horseman reined up before him in a cloud of dust, 
 and having handed him two letters, sped on his way. 
 Carlo turned them over with trembling fingers. One 
 was for William, the other for him. He opened it, 
 and read as follows : 
 
 ' San Francisco, Feb. 12, 1852. 
 
 ' Dear Sir, As the steamer which drops the mail- 
 bag at Monterey will sail early to-morrow, I write in 
 
48 THE AMULET. 
 
 haste to inform you that I have received advices from 
 England, to the effect that you are entitled to a sum 
 of 500Z., as legatee, under the will of the late Mr. 
 William Brownlow. The sum is now at your dis- 
 posal, and can be transferred to your order, on my 
 receiving the enclosed receipt with your signature. 
 There are certain conditions attached to the transfer, 
 which I need scarcely allude to, as you have long 
 since complied with, or I may say anticipated them. 
 Your trustee, Lord Saltum, expresses a great interest 
 in you. He wishes to hear of your welfare ; and I 
 think it would please him if you were to write and 
 treat him with some confidence, as the friend of your 
 late lamented guardian. William will tell you that I 
 am pressing upon him the value of land in this coun- 
 try, and the favourable opportunities which there are 
 for investments of that nature. Allow me to assure 
 you that my sister will always be pleased to enter- 
 tain you at Los Dolores, and that you may command 
 the services of < Yours faithfully, 
 
 1 T. S. STAECHIE. 
 
 ' C. B. Melnot, Esq., care of 
 
 Senor Don Alberto Arianas, 
 Santa Perona.' 
 
 1 Bill,' shouted the legatee, ' Bill ! Yoix ! ' 
 
 ' That's me,' answered William, milking a cow in 
 the stalls and regardless of grammar. 
 
 ' Letters ! Look sharp.' 
 
 1 Hurrah ! ' cried the dairyman, dropping the pipe 
 out of his mouth, and kicking over the milk-pail. 
 
FORTUNE SMILES. 49 
 
 Carlo tossed him the other letter, and retired to 
 his room to read again. It was some time before he 
 could realise the contents of the letter. The late 
 Mr. Brownlow and Viscount Saltum, together with 
 any interest they might have taken in him, were 
 phantoms of the past. He conjured up the memory 
 of a youth, gay, idle, self-indulgent, and reckless ; 
 but failed to recognise himself. 'I'm a thorough 
 workman,' he thought ; ' I like my pipe, it's true, 
 and I've a horrid temper ; but my habits are simple, 
 and I've resisted the sweetest temptation man ever 
 had. And it isn't over yet. Those mountains are a 
 molehill. I kick them aside. I'm near her again, 
 in the low dark shed. I feel her breath, her touch, 
 her tear, her sobs. Jesu ! a little grace, a little 
 strength ! ' And the young man took a wooden cross 
 from his bosom [it was a model of the one in amber], 
 kissed it, knelt down with his head on the rude 
 tressel, and sobbed and sobbed. His lithe wiry form 
 quivered with emotion ; his throat felt as though it 
 would burst, and a froth settled on Jus lip. 
 
 ' Good news, Carlo ! ' shouted William from the 
 corridor. 
 
 ' Wait a minute old boy,' said the other ; and 
 he got up from his knees, sponged his head and face 
 with cold water, and went out, humbled, but stronger, 
 to do or to endure. 
 
 And William said, ' Here's something that will 
 interest you.' And Carlo read as follows : 
 E 
 
50 THE AMULET. 
 
 ' San Francisco, Feb. 12, 1852. 
 
 * My dear William, I enclose a letter for you which 
 came yesterday under cover to me, and which will 
 no doubt give you good news from home. As I have 
 not heard from your father by this mail, I shall be 
 glad to hear of him from you, at your leisure. I re- 
 ceived your letter from Los Ojitos by the steamer 
 which touched at Monterey. You can communicate 
 with me regularly by the same medium. I was sur- 
 prised to find that you had not availed yourselves of 
 my letter of recommendation to Don Jose, and it is 
 curious that you should have received such marked 
 hospitality and kindness from the family of Arianas, 
 as you must be perfect strangers to them, although 
 they are connected with my good friend Don Jose. 
 The connection is a delicate one ; and you had better 
 be guarded in alluding to it, or perhaps you should 
 abstain altogether from the subject with your present 
 host. 
 
 * The Dona Juana (Madre) of whom you spoke in 
 such nattering terms is the only sister of Don Jose. 
 [" By Jove, he's her uncle, then ! " said Carlo paren- 
 thetically.] Don Mariano met her at the house of 
 General de Castro in Monterey. An attachment 
 sprung up between them, which was cemented by a 
 private marriage [0-ho!], and clandestine interviews, 
 which lasted during the month of February 1835, 
 after which the lady returned to her father's house. 
 
 * When the old Senor Don Joaquin, who was the 
 leader of the Federal, or Ecclesiastical, party in this 
 
FORTUNE SMILES. 51 
 
 country found that his daughter had contracted an 
 alliance with the son of a notorious Republican and 
 lay impropriator, his fury exceeded all bounds. He 
 drove his child, with threats and abuse, out of his 
 house [The old rogue !] ; and as Don Jose was at 
 that time in Spain, the poor lady was indebted to the 
 kindness of an Indian vaquero, employed on the 
 boundary of the estate, who conveyed her in safety 
 to the mission of San Miguel. [Bravo, Friday !] 
 When Don Mariano found that his wife had been so 
 harshly treated, he was naturally both mortified and 
 grieved ; but, with the courtesy of a true Castilian, 
 he forbore to demand satisfaction of her father, and 
 sent his challenge to Don Jose [Bum go, that!] on 
 his return to the country. The result was an en- 
 counter of the most courtly kind. Don Jose, an 
 accomplished swordsman, disarmed his opponent. 
 Don Mariano's second declared that the affront was 
 cancelled, and there the matter ended. The brothers- 
 in-law, however, did not exchange further courtesies, 
 nor can they do so until Don Jose further disarms 
 his antagonist, by apologising for the affront which 
 the Senor Don Joaquin put upon the lady. Don Jose 
 has allowed me to understand that he has no objection 
 to make this amende [Bravo, Don !], but that it would 
 not be decorous to do so during his father's lifetime. 
 'You see that the code of honour amongst our 
 friends is somewhat punctilious. Now you will have 
 to exercise discretion in the delicate position in which 
 you are placed, unless you like to forego the pleasure 
 
 E 2 
 
52 THE AMULET. 
 
 of an acquaintance with Don Jose. Their estate, 
 the Hacienda of San Pedro, abuts on the Rancho of 
 Santa Perona. [Hallo ! now the cat 's out.] Don 
 Alberto and his vaqueros, as well of course as Mr. 
 Melnot and yourself, will frequently be brought in 
 contact, from the straying of cattle and so forth, 
 with Don Jose and his Indians. The gentlemen 
 cannot acknowledge each other under existing cir- 
 cumstances, and I fear that you might wound the 
 feelings of Don Alberto by establishing a friendly in- 
 tercourse with his neighbour. Yet I feel, as your 
 friend, that, if possible, you should establish such an 
 intercourse [Sensible old party!] ; so, now that you 
 know the difficulty, I must leave you to act d dis- 
 cretion. 
 
 ' The offer of remuneration which Don Mariano 
 has made you is handsome, and speaks for his 
 generosity and confiding disposition; for, as I said 
 before, both Mr. Melnot and yourself must be total 
 strangers to him. [Fancy not trusting Bill !] Ajid 
 now I will again press upon you the value of an in- 
 vestment in land. [Eh ?] You will have ample 
 opportunities for observing the quality aud suitable- 
 ness of the land for many miles round ; and remem- 
 ber that any land not now occupied, or for which the 
 present holder cannot produce clear title-deeds, may 
 be purchased, and the sale carried out here in a few 
 weeks, at $1J per acre. [Hurrah !] 
 
 * When I was on a visit at San Pedro, last month, 
 
FOE TUNE SMILES. 53 
 
 I rode over to Santa Perona and saw the fine corral, 
 and humble cottage which had been built upon it. 
 The estate has great capabilities ; and you might 
 perhaps purchase a few thousand acres to the south- 
 ward [Exactly : and a chain of mountains or two !], 
 and profit by the kindness and experience of Don 
 Alberto [0 dear, yes !] in getting it into working 
 order. 
 
 ' I will not describe the estate of San Pedro, as I 
 hope before long you may make its acquaintance for 
 yourself. Nor will I protract this already tedious 
 letter [No, no !] by encroaching on one which I am 
 about to write to your friend, and which he will 
 doubtless read to you. I am, dear William, 
 ' Your very sincere friend, 
 
 ' T. SYLVESTER STARCHIE.' 
 
 When William had finished the paternal letter, his 
 friend said to him, ' Is old Starchie mad ; or have 
 you come into a park and ten thousand a year ?' 
 
 W. B. No, he 's all right. I have got a little 
 money ; nothing to speak of. 
 
 G. How much is it ? 
 
 W. B. You mustn't press me just now. My way is 
 not quite clear. You see, there are ten of us. 
 
 C. True : at any rate, we'll invest my 500Z. 
 
 W. B. I think we might venture in a little joint- 
 stock company transaction. Say, you divide your 
 fund, and lay 2601. by for a year. I could add 250/. 
 
54 THE AMULET. 
 
 to the other half, and we might buy a few cows or 
 pigs. 
 
 G. If we look sharp, we may get that glade sown 
 with barley or maize yet. 
 
 W. B. I'm afraid not. 
 
 C. [Referring to a shabby almanac.] Look here. 
 Steamer up from San Luiz on the 16th. Get to San 
 Francisco on the 18th. Draw money ; consult 
 Starchie ; buy no end of things ; take Panama steamer 
 down on the 21st. Cristobal meet you at San Luiz 
 with mules. In meantime I harrow the ground. 
 Lay the seed down directly you get back. April rains 
 come just in the nick of time. 
 
 W. B. You are not far out, barring accidents. 
 
 C. Well ; let's bar them. When will you start ? 
 
 W. B. To-morrow, at daybreak. 
 
 After the duties of that day were ended, the two 
 friends sat, late into the night, talking over ^their 
 camp-fire. 
 
 W. B. Will you go instead of me ? 
 
 G. No : I'd rather stay here. You go, and I'll 
 scratch up that glade a bit. 
 
 W. B. There's Miss Clem, you know. 
 
 G. Shut up : that's a good fellow. 
 
 W. B. How many pigs did you say ? 
 
 G. The more the merrier : but remember the Pa- 
 nama Line ' sticks it on ' awfully. 
 
 W. B. Don Bernardo may know of a litter or two 
 at San Luiz. That would save freightage. 
 
 G. Well : we've acorns enough for the whole 
 
FORTUNE SMILES. 55 
 
 species.* [Lights his pipe during a pause.] I say, 
 isn't that Don Bernardo a friend of Alberto's ? 
 
 W. B. Yes. [Another pause. Both puffing away 
 solemnly.] 
 
 G. By the way, what did Alberto say about 'Yankee 
 Jim'? 
 
 W. B. The Committee of Vigilance have offered a 
 reward for his body. There's a placard stuck up in 
 all the Pueblos and missions about it. Alberto says 
 he's not unlike me, according to the description of 
 him. 
 
 C. That's the man who killed the poor Don's only 
 son. 
 
 W. B. Yes. 
 
 C. I don't envy the fellow who lays a hand on him. 
 
 W. B. The quinientos pesos will do it. Eh, Cris- 
 tobal ? 
 
 And looking at the vaguer o, they observed an omi- 
 nous look about his bright eyes and bristling mous- 
 tache. He too had heard Don Alberto speak of the 
 five hundred dollars ; and certain it is that the honest 
 half-caste would haye engaged his Satanic Majesty 
 in single combat, for that sum of money. 
 
 But the Englishmen went on talking in their own 
 language, and thought no more about Cristobal. 
 
 C. I hope ' El Yankee ' won't come this way while 
 
 you're gone. A bear 's a bear, you know, but 
 
 but 
 
 * The white oak of this region is the Quercus longiglanda 
 acorns sweet, from two to three inches in length. 
 
56 THE AMULET. 
 
 And William, who knew what his friend was 
 thinking about, changed the subject. 
 
 Before daybreak the house and sheds were swathed 
 in a grey mist, which came up from the river. Fran- 
 cisco was going as far as the Puerto del Oso with 
 Don Guillermo. They were saddling the horses. 
 
 C. [Shivering.] I can afford to do one or two 
 little things now. 
 
 W. B. That depends. 
 
 C. Yes ; on your getting to San Francisco and 
 getting the money. You know we're going to have 
 Angela over. 
 
 W. B. Yes. 
 
 C. And Cristobal got broke the last time he was 
 in Monterey. 
 
 W. B. Yes. 
 
 C. So you can buy them a few things for me: 
 blankets and cotton-prints and stockings. 
 
 W. B. And a soup-kitchen ? 
 
 C. No chaff now. And you remember the ladies 
 saying they wanted books ? 
 
 W. B. Can't say I do. 
 
 G. Now don't be obstinate. Buy five pounds' 
 worth, and a set of Chinese chessmen for the Don. 
 You can leave them at Monterey as you come down 
 the coast. 
 
 W. B. Five pounds would buy two pigs. 
 
 But Carlo disposed of the possible pigs by the aid 
 of a strong monosyllable, and the two friends parted. 
 
57 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A MELODIOUS CHAPTER. 
 
 WILLIAM BRIGGS was one of those characters 
 whom one only meets in books, and in odd 
 corners of the world. What good fortune came to 
 him he took with a good grace : ill fortune found him 
 stout-hearted and imperturbable. He was very patient 
 too, and would endure for a long time unconsciously. 
 So he was slow in forming plans of action, having a 
 floating notion in his brain that we do not form our 
 own plans at all, but are impelled in one direction or 
 another. ' Happy go lucky ' is the expression applied 
 to his philosophy by cautious people. 
 
 Free from vanity, he cared little what impression 
 he made upon other people, but was entirely loyal to 
 himself. An American writer speaks of men who 
 shout, to hear the echo of their own voices. William 
 was not one of these. He could shout lustily, and 
 did so when there was any occasion for it, but neither 
 knew nor cared how his voice sounded, nor what 
 tricks the ' reverberate hills ' might play with it. 
 This carelessness of approbation sat well upon him. 
 Nature is more dignified than Grandison, more grace- 
 ful than Chesterfield. 
 
 Now he rode away in the dim morning and mused, 
 
58 THE AMULET. 
 
 ' Impetuous fellow Carlo is ! I like it in Mm though. 
 He's worth a dozen of that brother of his ; the de- 
 mure prig ! And really just now it's well to have 
 some one to look after. It is not well for an old 
 patriarch like me to have no one but himself to think 
 about.' Meanwhile the long shadows of William 
 and his guide moved solemnly before them through 
 the waste ; the tinkling of their spurs* and bridle- 
 reins sounded sadly in the solitude. 
 
 ' The Governor's right. I may as well have young 
 Tom out. That will be one provided for. And now 
 the Governor has got a County Court, and Ned his 
 scholarship, they won't want my money. Won't the 
 young rascal enjoy this life, coming to it with a fresh 
 heart and mind ! I wish they had done something 
 of the kind with me. Court scandal sears the heart, 
 and poetry softens the brain. I was not cut out for 
 a Secretary of Legation.' 
 
 And indeed William was not an astute personage ; 
 but had passed his noviciate in the Diplomatic Service 
 chiefly in translating the odes of Quintus Horatius 
 into appropriate Castilian verse, and the Bomanceros 
 of Andalusia and Castile into appropriate English. 
 We do not say that no wind had ruffled the calm sur- 
 face of such a life : but we cannot be continually 
 storm-tost. 
 
 That afternoon Don Bernardo was entertaining 
 
 * The Mexican spur is silver, and has enormous rowels, with 
 two little silver acorns dangling from the centre. From the bit 
 the first eight inches of the bridle are a chain of steel or silver. 
 
A MELODIOUS CHAP TEE. 59 
 
 three cavaliers with a glass of choice Bordeaux. 
 Enters to them a tall stranger, with grey eyes and 
 tawny beard, who lifts a much- worn sombrero, wishes 
 them Buenos dies ; and can they tell him if Don Ber- 
 nardo is within ? 
 
 The merchant rises and returns the salutation. 
 Can he serve the senor ? 
 
 William wishes to know if there is a light waggon 
 and harness for a pair of mules to be sold in San 
 Luiz. He is going by steamer to San Francisco, to 
 make some purchases ; hopes to return on the 23rd 
 instant, and would save the expense of bringing a 
 waggon from the metropolis. 
 
 ' Will the senor step across to the Plaza ? Here 
 is a perfect set, left by the Quartermaster's baggage 
 train, to be sold on commission. The harness with 
 breast- straps : will that sui ? ' 
 
 ' Perfectly. And the price ? ' 
 
 * Two hundred dollars, complete.' 
 
 The stranger winces, but preserves his composure, 
 remembering that ' the Panama Line sticks it on 
 awfully.' ' Will Don Bernardo keep it till the 23rd ? ' 
 
 ' Certainly. For the Senor Don ? ' 
 
 * Guillermo.' 
 
 ' Then I address the mayordomo and friend of Don 
 Alberto ? ' 
 
 'The same.' 
 
 ' Your hand, Don Guillermo : I too am an English- 
 man.' 
 
 And as the two men, till now strangers to each 
 
60 THE AMULET. 
 
 other, stood hand in hand, the waggon, the harness, 
 the stunted sycamores, the broad Plaza, the very 
 vault of heaven, faded out of sight. The * death in 
 life ' lived again, 'the days that are no more.' 
 
 By-and-by, when the grave and reverend signiors 
 had discussed matters of importance, William was 
 introduced to the ladies, with whom he conversed (in 
 Spanish), and to whom he sang, by request, a song 
 in the English idiom, which I shall take leave to in- 
 sert. It may help us to interpret William's humour. 
 
 Why not reminded be of hours so brief 
 
 And glorious ? 
 
 Dwells not a beauty in the autumn-leaf ; 
 And, over memory's lingering joy, is grief 
 
 Victorious ? 
 
 Is there no meaning in the having been 
 
 Once blessed ? 
 
 Can winter leaves still hold a summer green ; 
 Or think you ancient wrongs have never been 
 
 Eedressed ? 
 
 Doth not joy linger in the silver cones 
 
 Of mountains, 
 
 "Which gleam in sunlight of the western- zones, 
 While o'er the plain night sweeps with all its moans 
 
 Of fountains? 
 
 When the music ceased, the sad humour seemed to 
 have fallen upon all, and presently the boom of a 
 cannon surprised them in silent reverie. 
 
 Don B. Ah ! There is the steamer. We must lose 
 you so soon. 
 
A MELODIOUS CHAP TEE. 61 
 
 Senoritas. But you will come again ? 
 
 W. B. Yes. 
 
 Senoritas. And make us all cry again ? 
 
 W. B. Never. Forgive me this time. 
 
 So William went on board, with the mail-bag, and 
 not being a victim to sea- sickness, smoked his che- 
 root in the bows. 
 
 The doubts about Alberto were cleared up. Don 
 Bernardo was commissioned to sell the Rancko of 
 Santa Perona, with two hundred cows, for twenty 
 thousand dollars, a liberal discount allowed for ready 
 money. ' And, as the Governor says, I ought to cast 
 anchor somewhere or other. I shall be as old as the 
 Wandering Jew soon : [Looking down,] by Holy 
 Rood, a royal beard ! I must consult Mariano before 
 buying this place. Won't he thunder out his caram- 
 bas! Suppose it's all square between Bernardo and 
 his client : Alberto smitten of course : Bernardo take 
 him into partnership : money at a premium : sell 
 cattle : sell Rancho : turn the money over in no time : 
 suit that lazy iguana. 
 
 ' I could graze Mariano's stock gratis, take Carlo 
 into partnership ; and then we might think about 
 the little one. Yet I wish it had been Julia. She 
 has that repose which Carlo wants. His pulse beats 
 very fast.' 
 
 Then William walked aft, and turned into his 
 berth ; for he had ridden twenty leagues, in the heat 
 of that day ; and now a cold nor'-wester was sweep- 
 ing the surface of the sea. 
 
62 THE AMULET. 
 
 The next evening, at sunset, they steamed into the 
 Golden Gate, and William was welcomed by his 
 father's friend. But Miss Clementina Starchie was 
 shocked at the appearance of the gentleman, who 
 once had inhaled the sublime atmosphere of Courts. 
 ' William ! ' she said, ' how can you go about in 
 that old thing [a flannel shirt], and those dreadful 
 Hessians ? ' 
 
 ' " Jacks," we call them,' William objected. 
 
 * Indeed ? ' And the damsel fell to thinking of a 
 magnificent hidalgo, with curling hair and purple 
 moustachios, who had galloped away with papa on 
 New-year's Day ; who with his sombrero had described 
 a splendid arc, and bent his head to the saddle-bow 
 as she stood blushing in the porch. 
 
 What a vision it was ! There was a murmur of 
 canzonets and serenades about the very memory of 
 it, and only look at poor William ! 
 
 But Aunt Dorothy was charmed to entertain the 
 light-clad hero. 
 
 Clementina was at that time a beautiful little fairy 
 of nineteen years. Her hair was yellow, her fore- 
 head broad and white, eyebrows yellow and arched, 
 eyelashes black; eyes large, brown, and lustrous; 
 nose celestial, lips ravishing ; and there was such 
 a dimple in the little round white chin, that a man 
 might have wished to touch it and die. 
 
 Clemmy was sad to think she had received Wil- 
 liam coldly, and after tea she said to him, ' Come 
 and talk to me about your new life. I must write 
 
A MELODIOUS CHAPTER. 63 
 
 and tell Annie all about you.' And William talked 
 to her, and wondered at her self-conscious manner 
 and downcast eyes and flushing cheek. 
 
 W. B. And do you know, Clem, I sang one of my 
 translations from Don Jorge to three English senoritas 
 in San Luiz, and they all cried. 
 
 C 1. Your songs were very 
 
 W. B. Yes. 
 
 Cl. At least we used to think so. 
 
 W. B. Don't say ' we.' 
 
 Cl. Well, I thought so, William. 
 
 W. B. That sounds more pretty. But the oddity 
 of their crying was, that they couldn't understand a 
 word of English. 
 
 Cl. English ladies did you not say ? 
 
 W. B. You see, their mother was a Mexican, and 
 Don Bernardo, their papa, has left off his English 
 habits. However, mine was a voice out of the past. 
 They heard it and wept. Why, you're crying too ! 
 Dear Clem, what have I said to hurt you ? 
 
 Cl. Nothing nothing ; come and sing. 
 
 And she went and sat down at the piano, took off 
 a little bracelet which William had given her years 
 ago, held it for a moment irresolutely, then looked up 
 into his calm face. 
 
 'William,' she said. 
 
 W. B. Well, dear ? 
 
 Cl. You are sad. 
 
 W. B. Well ? 
 
 Cl. I know the cause. 
 
64- THE AMULET. 
 
 W. B. Yes. 
 
 Cl. And I am not all a a sister ought to be to 
 yon, all that Annie would be ; but, dear William, will 
 you give me one ' yes ' or ' no,' truly ? 
 
 W. B. Truly. 
 
 Cl. Is there anything I can do, or say, or be, to 
 comfort you ? Tell me truly. 
 
 W. B. Nothing, dear little sister, nothing. 
 
 And William took the little hand still holding the 
 bracelet, stooped over it, and kissed it tenderly. 
 
 ' Eh ? Bless my soul ! ' exclaimed papa, awaking 
 out of a nap. 
 
 ' The custom of the country, sir,' said William, 
 smiling. 
 
 But Clem ran across the room, clapping her hands, 
 and laughing : ' 0, papa ! I'm so happy ! I've offered 
 to run away with William, and he won't.' 
 
 And William saw that she said it half in sport, 
 half in earnest, and admired the little heroine. 
 
 There was a secret between these two. William, 
 five years ago, had loved Clem's elder sister. The 
 intimacy grew and deepened ; but an estrangement 
 took place, and the lady became another man's wife. 
 
 And now Annie Briggs had written to Clem, and 
 had said, ' Be a sister to him, or more than a sister. 
 As you are better and more beautiful than I, be to 
 him more than I have ever been. I fear for the 
 effect of a grief, which he will not share with anyone, 
 on his health and mind, though nothing can taint or 
 alter his true pure heart.' 
 
A MELODIOUS CHAPTER. 65 
 
 So the little woman covered up the image of a 
 magnificent hidalgo, with raven moustaches, in a 
 dark corner of her heart, and made an advance to 
 her friend's brother, with result as above. 
 
 Then she returned to the piano. 
 
 * Sing Mr. William the Cancion which he trans- 
 lated for you,' said Aunt Dorothy. 
 
 ' 0, the poor convict's lullaby ? No, it is too sad. 
 I set it to music myself, William.' 
 
 ' I gave you the words. Give me the song.' 
 
 And the lady sang this lullaby : 
 
 Fair galley, rest 
 In the golden west ! 
 
 Lull him to sleep, 
 On the cold calm breast 
 Of the passionless deep : 
 Lull him, lull him to sleep ! 
 
 Ah me ! ah me ! 
 Would that I, with thee, 
 
 Might float at rest ! 
 For the lone sad sea 
 Bears my love on its breast. 
 Lull him, lull him to rest 1 
 
 Spread thy broad sail 
 To the morning gale ! 
 
 Come to thy rest ! 
 A breeze shall not fail 
 Thee, all day from the west. 
 Lull him, lull him to rest ! 
 
66 THE AMULET. 
 
 Fair galley, glide, 
 On a tranquil tide, 
 
 Home to thy rest ! 
 The haven is wide, 
 And my sheltering breast 
 Yearns till it lull him to rest. 
 
 sleep, love, sleep 
 Once more in the deep 
 Of my still breast ! 
 While I weep, love, sleep, 
 In my fond arms prest, 
 Lull'd in my bosom to rest ! 
 
 But sentimental evenings, like aesthetic and all other 
 evenings, must come to an end. And when Don 
 Guillermo made his appearance before Clem, on the 
 following afternoon, he was dressed as became a 
 cavalier and Ranchero of substance : that is to say, in 
 a linen shirt, a short blue jacket, blue calzones sup- 
 ported at the waist by a gorgeous sash, and dangling 
 about the legs, with an exterior descent of silver 
 buttons, waxing ' small by degrees and beautifully 
 less.' The ' Hessians ' also were replaced by deerskin 
 ankle-boots. 
 
 In the interval he talked matters over with Mr. 
 Starchie, made arrangements for purchasing the 
 estate of Santa Perona, bought seeds of many kinds, 
 ammunition, tools, and other things useful ; not for- 
 getting five pounds' worth of books, or the ' Chinese 
 chess-men for the Don.' 
 
 Owing to the kindness of a common friend, I am 
 
A MELODIOUS CHAPTER. . 67 
 
 enabled to place before the reader a copy of a letter 
 which Miss Clementina wrote to Miss Annie Briggs, 
 at about this period. 
 
 ' Los Dolores, near San Francisco, 
 20tk March. 
 
 4 My lovely Annie will be surprised to hear that 
 William is now spending a few days with us. We 
 were quite startled when papa brought him home 
 day before yesterday. And do you know but how 
 could you, so far away in dear Worcestershire ? 
 that he wears a faded shirt the colour of blotting- 
 paper, and great boots which come up ever so high, 
 and no coat at all, and such a hat ! And 0, my dear 
 Annie, when William landed he was nearly being 
 taken for a horse-stealer : a dreadful creature called 
 " Yankee Jim," who kills people and sells their 
 horses ; and papa says the Vigilance Committee 
 would have hanged William if he had only had an 
 anchor tatooed on his left arm. Can you imagine 
 anything so wicked ? Not that I believe a word of 
 it. But now William has bought some beautiful 
 clothes, and looks like one of those cavaliers who 
 used to fight for King Charles against the vulgar 
 Roundheads. And his voice is so touching; it 
 reminds me of my sweet Annie and the dear old 
 Christmas holidays ! I did not tell you in my last 
 what a beautiful grand piano papa has had brought 
 from New York, all round Cape Horn, in a ship. It 
 is handsomer and better toned than our old Collard, 
 
 F2 
 
68 THE AMULET. 
 
 and I played "William's accompaniments on it last 
 night to the dear old songs which my Annie was so 
 fond of. 
 
 * But what do you think ? That friend of William's 
 (" Carlo," as he calls him), that dreadful young man 
 who was so wicked in India, and whom you wanted 
 William never to speak to again, has had some money 
 (papa won't tell me how much) left him by old Mr. 
 Brownlow, who paid his debts and " cut him off with 
 a shilling," you know, dear ; and he and William are 
 going to buy a Rancho, that is, a great wilderness 
 with a few cows and horses straggling about it, and 
 all sorts of wild beasts carrying them off ; and papa 
 says they will make a large fortune in a few years. 
 
 ' We are all going to spend the months of June and 
 July on an estate called San Pedro, with friends of 
 papa's. It is only a few miles from the Eancho which 
 William is going to buy. There we shall see the 
 Indian corn gathered by real Indian squaws, and 
 pumpkins in which a baby can lie down and be 
 covered up, and great water-melons, and a tame puma, 
 or " lion," as it is called ; and we shall be able to 
 ride to William's house at least he says it's only 
 " a hut," and 0, no, we mustn't, because of that 
 Carlo, you know, dearest. 
 
 ' I shall write and tell you more about William 
 then, and about Mr. Melnot what sort of person he 
 really is. We have never seen him, though they were 
 four days in San Francisco, after they lost all their 
 gold poor things ! in the mines. Papa asked Wil- 
 
A MELODIOUS CHAPTER. 69 
 
 Ham to bring him to dinner ; but lie would not come, 
 and stayed sulking (though I pitied him then, because 
 he had no money) at a common tavern in the horrid 
 town. When I asked William what his friend used 
 to do all day, he said something so shocking that 
 I cannot remember it. We get very wicked in this 
 bad country. 
 
 'But papa says there are superior people, of old 
 Spanish families, " down South;" and William seems 
 to think so too. I never saw anything like him. He 
 says that real ladies wash actually kneel down for 
 hours together on little hard boards and wash their 
 own linen ; some funny people did so at Los Ojitos, 
 a Rancho where he has been paying a visit. I do 
 not think dear William is so unhappy as we feared. 
 He leads such an active life, that, as he says, he has 
 no time for romance and all that sort of thing. He 
 is very kind to me, and calls me " little sister." 
 
 * William is writing to say Tommy must come out 
 in the autumn. O, how I wish you were coming 
 instead of that naughty little Tom ! And papa is 
 writing to congratulate Mr. Briggs and Edward. 
 Kiss the pets for me, and write again soon to your 
 ever-fond Clemmy. 
 
 4 dear ! what a long letter I have written ! I 
 hope you will be able to read it. You may cross 
 yours as much as you like. 
 
 <C. S.' 
 
 In the steamer which carried this letter to the 
 
70 THE AMULET. 
 
 Isthmus of Panama, Don Guillermo Briggs, bearing 
 with him the promise of abundant harvests, took pas- 
 sage for San Luiz Obispo, where he had a second 
 interview with Don Bernardo. A strange reception 
 awaited him at ' the little Rancho.' 
 
.71 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 CRISTOBAL'S FIRST BEAR. 
 
 BUT at Santa Perona, Carlo went up among the 
 hills to a large glade of forty acres, girt about at 
 its upper end by hoary oaks, and with clumps of 
 manzanito, or red laurel, all about a rivulet that crept 
 through slender grasses and wild flowers innumerable. 
 
 Here they determined to sow, the spot being near 
 the head of the valley, and approached by a narrow 
 gorge which would be easily guarded. 
 
 The first difficulty in cultivating any part of a 
 Rancho, is to protect your own from your own. A 
 Californian steer sniffing the breeze from juicy vege- 
 tables, or hearing the soft rustle of maize-leaves, will 
 charge through a fence which seems impenetrable. A 
 breach once made, in flows the myriad depredator, 
 and a hundred acres are laid waste in a night. Then 
 you gallop over and crush your sweetest pumpkins; a 
 thousand melons shed their life- water at your horse's 
 feet. You drive cattle over prostrate stems of maize, 
 and when the foe is repulsed, have to acknowledge 
 that victory is as costly as defeat. 
 
 The Franciscan monks used to build adobe walls of 
 
72 THE AMULET. 
 
 immense thickness and height round their gardens, 
 as much to guard against this danger as to exclude 
 the Indians of the Tulare plains. Water was conveyed 
 from the hills in raised aqueducts, so that they could 
 irrigate the ground in the dry season. 
 
 The chosen glade was a natural garden, as we have 
 said. Its walls and aqueduct were nature's handi- 
 work ; a timber barrier to the stream would form a 
 reservoir ; and the soil was a fine soft mould many 
 feet in depth. So Carlo set himself to make a harrow, 
 that he might prepare the ground for seed against his 
 friend's return. There was neither nail nor saw, awl 
 nor gimlet, that Carlo knew of, within twenty leagues: 
 but a harrow was a simple construction ; and, with 
 Cristobal's help, he made one on the spot where it 
 was required. 
 
 First they cut thirty-six pegs of manzanito, each 
 twenty inches long, and bent them double. These 
 they stuck into the ground in six equidistant rows, 
 measured either way, and threaded them with six 
 tough willow stems. Under these they placed six 
 others transversely; binding them firmly at each inter- 
 section, and securing the double of the pegs. On the 
 top they laid and bound other logs of greater weight. 
 The bands of raw hide stiffen and contract in the sun; 
 and the whole forms a respectable implement, which 
 is soon fit for use. 
 
 Don Carlos, returning to the house with Cristobal, 
 found Manuel and Francisco in perturbation. The 
 latter had been going his rounds to drive in the strag- 
 
CRISTOBAL'S FIRST BEAR. 73 
 
 glers, when, hearing a lowing amongst the sand-hills, 
 he followed the sound, and found a cow bewailing a 
 mangled heifer. The tracks being through sand and 
 light pulverised earth, had given no clue, except by 
 their size, which induced him to follow them ; but 
 when they reached the more retentive soil in a hol- 
 low, the long foot-prints and the seams of five long 
 nails in each left no doubt who the spoiler was. 
 
 Cristobal was for hunting with the lasso, but Don 
 Carlos objected. It would be madness to risk life on 
 the cast of a lasso, and horses were cowards at the 
 best. The vaquero had seen great scars which a bear's 
 claws had left on Carlo's thigh and stomach. He had 
 no doubt of the Ingles 's courage. They held a coun- 
 cil in haste at sunset : a quantity of loose boughs were 
 stripped off the roof of the sheds and bound on to a 
 mule ; Carlo and Cristobal galloped off with spades 
 and rifles, and had dug a hole seven or eight feet deep 
 by the time Francisco brought up the mule and its 
 load. 
 
 Then they laid their trap, covering the hole with 
 leafy branches, these with earth and sand, and laying 
 on the top the slaughtered heifer. Francisco with- 
 drew with the mule and horses, and left these two 
 lurking in the brushwood which overhung their trap. 
 
 It was poor shelter, a mere scrub of juniper, three 
 feet in height, but gave them a clear prospect of what 
 might come. Would the male bear (they thought) 
 come alone to drag away the carcase, or would the 
 dam and cubs come to the feast ? The dam bears in 
 
74 THE AMULET. 
 
 January ; the cubs would now be learning to forage. 
 If more than one bear came, it would go ill with them: 
 yet when Bruin came scuffling in sight alone, the re- 
 lief was half a disappointment. ' If we'd only got 
 Will here,' thought Carlo. 
 
 The bear came along his old trail to the spot, saw 
 many tracks and the ground disturbed, looked up 
 through shaggy locks to where two heads appeared 
 above the scrub, and two bright spots glistened in the 
 starlight, looked down on the carcase, took one step 
 forward ; then an awful roar and a crashing of 
 branches drowned the simultaneous report of two 
 rifles, while the hunters drew their pieces in swiftly 
 and reloaded. 
 
 ' Es muerto, senor,' said Cristobal. 
 
 But now a loud snorting and shuffling dispelled the 
 illusion. The bear was working at his trench. Cris- 
 tobal's eyes flashed ; he wanted to rush down the 
 bank and shoot at close range ; but the other held 
 him with a firm grip. Carlo knew that at least one 
 ball had told, that the wound, and hard work, and 
 time, would fight for them. ' Keep cool,' he said, 
 4 and lay your knife at hand : so.' 
 
 Presently the great head and neck appeared, heav- 
 ing amongst the mass of sand : then the huge animal 
 emerged, wounded to the death, blind with dust and 
 fury, weak with toil and loss of blood : yet he looked 
 straight up the slope, and, with another roar, ad- 
 vanced. 
 
 But a spell was upon the half-caste : his glance was 
 
CRISTOBAL' 8 FIRST BEAR. 75 
 
 along the barrel : his finger refused to move. 4 Shoot 
 first,' Carlo hissed, out of clenched teeth ; but in vain. 
 It was a fearful moment. The bear was within ten 
 paces, roaring, and advancing slowly. Then he stag- 
 gered, stood erect, and fell, as a little puff of smoke 
 rose from the clump of juniper. In the terrible 
 eagerness of that moment, neither of them heard the 
 report of the gun. 
 
 ' Thy knife, man, thy knife ! ' said Carlo angrily, 
 and snatched the rifle from Cristobal's hand. The 
 rifle was at half-cock. 
 
 But in a moment Cristobal was on his knees by the 
 dead bear, and had plunged his long blade twice into 
 its heart. * Ruega por nosostros pecadores /' he mut- 
 tered in a deprecatory tone. 'A vaquero cannot 
 shoot.' 
 
 The next morning Manuel was sent with a mule to 
 look after the dead ; and when the others returned 
 from working in the 'glade of oaks,' at evening, he 
 was still staking out the capacious hide, which mea- 
 sured six feet three inches in length by five feet six 
 across, behind the fore legs. 
 
 The ingenious fellow had made a long bag of such 
 parts of the heifer's hide as were available, and into 
 this had poured a supply of genuine bear's grease ; 
 not with a view to render the human hair ambrosial, 
 but to anoint lassos, and for culinary purposes. 
 
 The head of a bear is considered a dainty by people 
 of patriarchal appetites; and Carlo looked round with 
 
76 THE AMULET. 
 
 an air of profound melancholy, for it was not visible. 
 But in the morning, while Francisco was milking, a 
 savoury incense assailed the nostrils of Don Carlos, 
 as the faithful Manuel uncovered a hole near the 
 camp-fire, and triumphantly produced la cabeza. And 
 while they are at breakfast, I will unfold the mystery 
 of a trap-oven. 
 
 A round hole, two feet in diameter, is sunk to the 
 depth of four feet. At the bottom of this a fire is 
 kindled, fed with fuel for two hours, and allowed to 
 subside into a carpet of hot embers. Upon this three 
 large stones are dropped, and the head placed upon 
 them, as on a dish. Over the cavity branches are 
 then laid, and loose earth shovelled over these. So 
 that the whole affair is not unlike the trap constructed 
 for a living bear ; except that it is smaller, hotter, 
 and baited inside instead of out. It is also less dan- 
 gerous to watch ; and though the crisis of the larger 
 one is more exciting, that of the smaller is not with- 
 out pleasurable emotions. 
 
77 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 RETKIBUTION. 
 
 CARLO was no longer the desponding young man 
 who came southwards, in bitterness of heart, 
 opprest with gloomy memories, and smarting from a 
 recent loss. There was an improvident little maid, 
 some twenty leagues away, by the wild sea- shore, 
 who had wished to make him less unhappy, and had 
 done so. That unhappiness, it is true, was not lost 
 out of the world. By some inscrutable process she 
 had taken the load, and was bearing it herself, as she 
 had wished to do. 
 
 Certes there is a thread of mystery running through 
 the woof of human affairs. Why should the hasty 
 gift of love, which had been so pleasant to Carlo, be 
 so painful to her ? Had he done aught to deserve 
 it ? And was her generous impulse sin ? I cannot 
 see the right in either case. 
 
 Nor can I understand the infatuation of this young 
 man. One has heard of love ruling * the court, the 
 camp, the grove,' though practical people accept that 
 proposition with reserve ; but that the same benign 
 deity should govern the fortunes of Carlo, is opposed 
 to the circumstances of the case. 
 
78 THE AMULET. 
 
 A headstrong girl had offered him unasked affec- 
 tion. He had honourably repelled her advances, and 
 returned her souvenir. They would not meet again. 
 She would forget him, and he her. Voila tout ! 
 
 But perhaps the acquisition of the legacy served to 
 encourage his delusion. He may have seen in the 
 small sum the germ of great success. Waving seas 
 of Indian corn, vines of muscatel, pear-tree groves, 
 and luxuriant olive-yards, may have ripened in the 
 summer of his dreams. The cattle on a thousand 
 hills were his, and round him hovered, perchance, 
 one sweet form of grace ineffable, more dear than all, 
 the form of her who gave a value to all, without 
 whom all were valueless. 
 
 It is fair to add that he did not expect this phan- 
 tom-fortune to rise in a night. ' We will lay the 
 foundation at once,' he thought ; and worked and 
 endured accordingly. 
 
 We pay heavily for experience, in cash, and in lia- 
 bilities. It is well to make some use of the * value 
 received.' So Carlo, who had begun life with a deter- 
 mination to grasp happiness complete and indestruc- 
 tible at the outset ; who had acted on this resolve 
 with more spirit than discretion, and failed ; now 
 took her gently by the hem of her garment, and 
 pointed to his work. And who shall say ? Perhaps 
 she smiled and told him that it should not be in vain. 
 
 When I say ' to his work,' you must not confine my 
 meaning to those few acres which the oxen had by 
 this time traversed with the home-built harrow, nor 
 
EETRIBUTION. 79 
 
 to any amount of mountain- climbing, bear-killing, or 
 manual labour performed in fifteen months. If you, 
 for instance, are fairly engaged on the battle-field of 
 life, and review any one week of your experience, and 
 schedule what has proved your metal and tried you 
 most, I think at the head of the list will stand the 
 great negatives, and, in their turn, the small achieve- 
 ments, quickly dwindling to a point. 
 
 So it was with Carlo. What he had not done, that 
 is to say, what he had refrained from doing, saying, 
 and, which is much harder, from thinking, was part 
 of that work to which he could point, not perhaps to 
 you or to me ; but in those moments when a man 
 feels and resolves. 
 
 This is the appointed way to rest of heart : striv- 
 ing with the toiling surf and rolling waves which 
 gird and overlie unfathomable depths of hope and 
 trust. 
 
 It comes as a task to each of us : much painful 
 effort, more or less misgiving and disappointment, go 
 along with it : pleasure comes in slight instalments, 
 enough perhaps to wet the parched lip, to save the 
 eye from being glazed, the heart from being palsied ; 
 but the deep satisfying draught awaits us in the 
 future ; we pant and strive, but do not attain. 
 
 Carlo missed his friend very much in those days ; 
 but being more addicted to hi a own society than most 
 men are at his time of life, and having real work on 
 hand, as well as castle-building and the like, the time 
 passed swiftly. He made Cristobal, however, listen. 
 
80 THE AMULET. 
 
 to his ballads ; and that worthy, whose education had 
 not taken a literary turn, heard them during" the calm 
 enjoyment of his evening cigarito beside the flaring 
 camp-fire, and taught Don Carlos a villanous pro- 
 nunciation of many words, and an intonation more 
 rhythmical than pure. Still the pupil was acquiring 
 the language more like a Spaniard than a pedant ; 
 for the honest vaquero was not behind the most lordly 
 hidalgo in the use of figurative expressions and flow- 
 ing periods of speech. 
 
 During his friend's absence, Carlo also composed a 
 letter to Lord Saltum, being glad, in his solitude, to 
 know that his guardian's oldest friend bore him good- 
 will, and wished to hear of such an insignificant 
 person as himself. 
 
 But the time for William's arrival drew near. 
 Manuel and Francisco were despatched on horseback, 
 with led mules, to meet Don Guillermo at San Luiz. 
 
 The cattle were now settling down to favourite 
 pastures along the course of the stream, herding 
 themselves in large bodies, as cattle will do when 
 there is danger abroad. It was only necessary to 
 have a numbering every fourth day, and for one or 
 other to ride round the valley twice daily. The task 
 became easier in two ways at once : the beasts having 
 less wish to stray, and the men more knowledge of 
 the country, and therefore greater ease in pursuing 
 stragglers and recovering them. 
 
 Carlo is tilling in the ' glade of oaks,' Manuel and 
 Francisco are on the road to San Luiz. Cristobal is 
 
RETRIBUTION. 81 
 
 going his rounds ; he stops near the log-house which 
 has been built for him, and thinks of wife and muclia- 
 chito ; and the poor vaquero thinks he will be happy 
 here. His wife is a warm- skinned, lissome Sonorian, 
 and knows how to make a hovel happy, with the man 
 of her heart. She is a tender wife and mother, and 
 has little arts of gardening, which she has brought 
 from her native land, and will have opportunity to 
 practise here. And the lover-husband thinks how 
 he would fain receive her with a gift : some linen 
 sheets, and a woollen sarape* of bright hues, or 
 some cotton prints for dresses for herself and 
 child. 
 
 When Cristobal last visited the Pueblo, he drew a 
 year's wages in advance. There, before buying what 
 he should have bought for those who depended on 
 him, he tempted his luck at Monte or at Faro, and 
 lost the whole, coming back with a ragged saddle- 
 cloth and downcast looks. And though the kind 
 Senoritas have made poor Angela furtive presents, 
 yet she has need of many things. And if she were 
 not in need, what matters it ? Who ever loved a 
 woman without wishing to greet her kindly, and with 
 offerings of love ? Still the question murmurs in 
 in Cristobal's ear, ' Donde el oro ? ' And the thought 
 of that detested blood-money comes to answer, 
 pesos, $500 ;' and his hand droops to the 
 
 * A Mexican woven blanket, with a central hole for dropping 
 it over the head (worn in which way it falls gracefully round the 
 figure). 
 
 G 
 
82 THE AMULET. 
 
 handle of the keen cuchillo ; and good thoughts have 
 led to bad ones. 
 
 At this moment a voice breaks upon him, 
 ' 'Ombre!' 
 
 Is it the arch-fiend, or only one of the sprites of 
 Michael Psellus ? 
 
 It is Costinetto, the Indian who brought the let- 
 ters to Don Carlos. Cristobal starts, and gazes at 
 him in wonder. 
 
 The herdsmen of the Senor Don Joaquin and the 
 retainers of Don Alberto know of the feud which 
 exists between their lords. When they meet on the 
 limits of the two estates, they pass each other in 
 silence. But now the Indian speaks again, 
 
 ' ' Ombre ! your caballdda : is it missing ? ' 
 
 Cristobal is fascinated : ' La caballdda ? ' 
 
 ' Yes : I tell thee the brood mares of Don Jose are 
 gone.' 
 
 ' Gone ? ' 
 
 ' He has tracked them, and a large band of horses, 
 in the direction of Lorenzo, and has gone with a 
 body of armed men to occupy the pass, and has sent 
 messengers forward to El placer, and heralds to the 
 P'Ueblos, to call out the companies who have sworn 
 to take the freebooter alive or dead : but ' and here 
 Costinetto seizes Cristobal by the arm, glares in his 
 eyes, and grates out ' they are led astray by a false 
 trail, a false trail, I say: quieres oro, 'ombre ? Wishest 
 for gold, man ? ' 
 
 Cristobal draws the long bright blade out of his 
 
RETRIBUTION. 83 
 
 gaiter-band, and makes a savage motion, as one who 
 would stab an enemy to the heart : and so these two 
 understand one another. 
 
 When men have a good purpose in common, it 
 requires explanation, deliberation, and so forth ; but 
 when the devil is in two men's minds, they agree at 
 a glance. 
 
 Costinetto leads his new ally round by a devious 
 track to the southward, till they come upon a broad 
 fresh trail, and unmistakeable signs that a large band 
 of horses has recently passed, and is moving towards 
 the defile of Chelone, a league to the south of Santa 
 Perona. 
 
 How can they follow without help ? There is no 
 clanger which either of these men would not face for 
 gold ; but even if they could secure their victim, 
 they in turn would be surrounded and slain. But 
 Don Carlos, El Ingles, is a valiant man, and a sure 
 killer with the rifle. If he will go with them, they 
 may prevail. 
 
 So, in the sultry afternoon, while Carlo, a votary 
 of Ceres, not of Mars, was guiding the stubborn 
 oxen in the glade of oaks, came the truculent vaquero, 
 and told him of the raid on San Pedro, how Don 
 Jose had been misled, how the watchful Costinetto 
 had found the trail, how the robbers might be over- 
 taken in the pass and routed, the mares restored, and 
 a large number of stolen horses rescued, and held for 
 their lawful owners. 
 
 Overwhelmed with evidence, and with the rhetoric 
 o2 
 
84 THE AMULET. 
 
 of Cristobal, who poured forth his flowing tale, with 
 copious verbiage and much gesticulation, Carlo 
 gravely unyoked the oxen, hastened homeward for 
 the trusty pinto, slung his rifle on his back, and got 
 to horse without delay. But Cristobal had to lasso 
 fresh horses for himself and Costinetto ; and the 
 little delay gave Carlo time to feel that he might 
 never return, and that William might find a desolate 
 house. So he wrote another letter, ' probably my 
 last,' he thought. It was written in pencil, on the 
 fly-leaf of his Romancero, and stuck up in the corri- 
 dor. 'Dear Bill,' he wrote, 'there is no time for a 
 pathetic letter, though if you find this on your re- 
 turn we shall be dead men. I am going with Cris. 
 and another on the trail of Yankee Jim, who has 
 made a raid on San Pedro. We don't know how 
 many men he has. My fellows are as fierce as Sala- 
 manders, but they only carry the lasso. If Cris. 
 comes back, give him $100. Take 100Z. yourself to a 
 certain person at L. 0., and tell her what you know, 
 and why I kept it dark. Whatever else I have is 
 yours. Good-bye, dear, dear old friend. 
 1 For ever yours, 
 
 'CARLO.' 
 
 And those three started in pursuit of a band, 
 against whom Don Jose had raised the whole county, 
 and some two hundred men were under arms. 
 
 They put their horses into a canter, and deter- 
 mined to quicken on the trail as fast as possible, so 
 as to come up with the robbers before sunset. 
 
RETElBVTIOy. 85 
 
 Carlo sounded the Pedronian as they went. He 
 found the right trail by accident, that morning ; and, 
 as all the best men at San Pedro had gone with the 
 Senor, he came to Santa Perona for assistance. There 
 is only the track of one shod horse,* that is El Yan- 
 que's. There were two in his trail last year, but his 
 comrade, ' Boccanegro,' was hanged in the placer in 
 January. He probably has two or three desperados 
 with him, and several Tulare braves. They will not 
 betray him : no : he is ' ombre bueno with the Indians ; 
 gives them horses and rifles, and has two wives 
 among them. Yes, two wives. One is a Mexican 
 girl, rescued from the Apaches, the other a Tulare 
 squaw. If he reaches the Great Lake, he is safe. 
 They will hide him andxhis horses in the mountain 
 fastnesses, to the east, until pursuit is over : then the 
 braves escort him northwards. Can they travel fast 
 with so many horses ? Two leagues an hour through 
 the mountains, three in the plain. Yes, we are 
 closing on them now : the trail is very fresh. Hist ! 
 what goes there ? 
 
 Costinetto pointed among the trees on their left. 
 Carlo saw a shadow gliding hither and thither. His 
 rifle was unslung in a moment. Crack ! ' It is only 
 making the bark fly about ; but concealment is of no 
 use, now that El Yanque's spies are watching us. 
 
 * It is quite possible to travel through Spanish California, 
 from San Jose to San Diego, without seeing the print of a horse- 
 shoe. 
 
86 THE AMULET. 
 
 We had better make a bold front. The robbers will 
 think we are a skirmishing party, and that the main 
 body is coming up behind.' 
 
 The pious Cristobal crosses himself. 
 
 * Oro, oro,' grates the other in his ear. 
 
 But the feeling has crept over Carlo that there is 
 something dreadful in dogging a fellow- creature to 
 the death in cold blood. True, the man is a homi- 
 cide and a marauder ; but it seems that he has 
 killed his men always in open fight, and often against 
 desperate odds. Then that little touch about the 
 wives has melted Carlo. He has a chivalrous re- 
 gard for the thief, murderer, and bigamist. He mis- 
 likes the idea of executing sentence upon him, unless 
 it so happen in fair fight. 
 
 Very different are the musings of the half-caste 
 and the native. Cristobal, as we saw above, is 
 craving money for an innocent end ; but whatever 
 sin there is in covetousness possesses him wholly. 
 He has thrown himself headlong into one hateful 
 purpose ; to take the blood of the freebooter. He 
 fears him more, and regards him less, than a bear, 
 and would take him unawares. True, the reward 
 would be paid if he were taken alive : but who could 
 bind El Yanque ? The man, alive, is equal to ten 
 other men. Blood, blood ! 
 
 The same desire, the same hate and dread of the 
 man, inspire both. Costinetto is no longer young. 
 He is the same who, when living at the northern 
 limit of San Pedro, carried the Senora on his horse 
 
BETRIBUTIOX. 87 
 
 to San Miguel, after she had been driven from her 
 father's house. He loves the House of Buenaventura 
 well ; but he suffers from the gnawing disease which 
 claims all the native Californians for its victims since 
 the restraining hand of the missions has been re- 
 moved : that disease is the love of play. Oro, oro ; 
 not the miser's gold, but the means of a few minutes, 
 or a few hours, of delirious excitement, followed by 
 the conscious luxury of utter abject destitution. 
 This it was which made the brow of Costinetto dark, 
 when he addressed Cristobal by the log-house. When 
 he found the double trail, he ought to have put spurs 
 to his horse, and ridden at full speed to the gorges of 
 San Lorenzo, and told his lord that he was wrong, 
 but that if he sped through the pass before it was too 
 late, and struck southwards, he would cross the rob- 
 bers' track. But Costinetto had heard of the reward. 
 The jingling of the coin rang in his ears ; gold glit- 
 tered before his eyes ; his fingers quivered about the 
 ever- ready knife ; and turning up the left bank of 
 the stream, he sought and found a kindred spirit for 
 this ghastly enterprise. 
 
 And Yankee Jim, who, a few minutes before, felt 
 secure from pursuit, and only threw out his Indian 
 scouts as a natural precaution, heard the clear crack 
 of a Kentucky rifle in his rear, thought that his 
 double had been discovered by Don Jose, and that 
 he had a large force close upon him. So he con- 
 sulted his Indian guide as to the nature of the ground, 
 for he had never tried the pass before, and gave his 
 
88 THE AMULET. 
 
 orders swiftly and like a great general, as nature had 
 intended him to be. 
 
 He sent his skirmishers in advance, to line both 
 sides of the approach to a narrow gorge, where he 
 intended to make his stand and to fight. These had 
 orders to wait until the rifles fired a volley, then to 
 pour in a flight of arrows from either flank and pass 
 off at the rear, waiting for orders. Fourteen Indians, 
 on foot, swiftly disappeared, and took up the position 
 indicated. One Mexican bravo and three Tulare 
 braves remained with hrm. They drove the horses 
 furiously along the pass, and, having reached the 
 gorge, turned, unslung their rifles, and waited calmly, 
 like men who know it is a death struggle, and that 
 the battle is for the strong. 
 
 And Carlo came along, with his feeble force, re- 
 loading his rifle, but meditating mercy, and little 
 thinking what a reception awaited him. 
 
 On his left the hill- side was swathed in a dense 
 forest of oak; on the right flowed a deep, swift 
 stream, with clumps of brushwood here and there 
 amon^ the rocks beyond. Carlo was riding in ad- 
 vance. He swept round a corner. Suddenly he saw, 
 sixty yards ahead, in an angle of the pass, five men, 
 one sitting erect in his saddle, with rifle in hand, the 
 other four peering and aiming over their horses' 
 backs. 
 
 He turned round at the sight, and shouted, ' Seiior 
 Don Jose ! The enemy is in the gorge. Ride round, 
 por Dios \ ' . 
 
RETRIBUTION. 89 
 
 Cristobal and Costinetto hung back ; they under- 
 stood that it was a stratagem, and that they were 
 not wanted in front. 
 
 The robber hesitated for a moment. He did not 
 wish to throw away a whole volley and flight of 
 arrows upon that wretch on the piebald horse, while 
 a hundred men were swarming over the hill, to out- 
 flank his Indians and take him in the rear. So he 
 would not fire the signal, but shouted aloud, ' One 
 arrow for him, and follow ! ' 
 
 Whereat he fell off his horse, a dead man ; for 
 Carlo, seeing death and five armed men before him, 
 picked out the leader, and fired. 
 
 Now there was one thing which Carlo had neg- 
 lected to teach the pinto, and that was to stand fire. 
 So, directly his piece went off, the horse swerved 
 suddenly round, an arrow whizzed past Carlo's head, 
 a bullet struck the pinto in the hinder quarters, at 
 which he plunged head foremost into the torrent, 
 amidst a shower of balls and arrows. The enemy 
 hurried away, to avoid the foe which they imagined 
 on their flank, and to get the caballada, out into the 
 plain. 
 
 If Carlo had ever so few armed men, they might 
 have now undertaken the pursuit, and rescued at 
 least a part of the horses ; but what could two poor 
 vaqueros, with long lassos and knives, do against 
 rifles and pistols in a narrow, winding pass ? 
 
 When Carlo reached shallow water, he tried to 
 catch the bridle with his right hand ; but his arm 
 
90 THE AMULET. 
 
 hung heavily, and a great stream of blood, running 
 down, poured off his hand. 
 
 The good horse struggled on to the bank, and stood 
 by its master. Carlo felt himself growing giddy and 
 feeble, so he called ' Cristobal ! ' And that worthy 
 came humbly down the bank, bound Carlo's arm 
 with his long sash, assisted him to mount, ran and 
 picked up the rifle, slung it on his own back, 
 mounted, and turned silently back by the way they 
 came. ' We cannot pursue them,' said Carlo. 
 
 4 Since the Senor is wounded, no.' 
 
 And at that moment another horseman joined them. 
 It was Costinetto, with a led horse, and something 
 red across the saddle, which made Carlo shudder. 
 He knew it was the body of the great robber. ' Two 
 men, two men,' he muttered quaintly. ' God for- 
 give me ! ' 
 
 And as they wended homewards among the gaunt 
 shadows which lay across their path in the moon- 
 light, a fearful dirge followed in their wake. The 
 coyotes were hunting on the blood- trail of ' Yankee 
 Jim.' 
 
91 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HESPER PHOSPHOR. 
 
 T1HE passes of Chelone and San Lorenzo lead 
 through the second arm of the Coast Range 
 Mountains, eastward, into the great plains of Tulare ; 
 that of Chelone from the southward of Santa Perona ; 
 that of San Lorenzo from the Hacienda of San Pedro. 
 
 The robbers had entered the latter pass, and fol- 
 lowed it until they came to rocky ground, where the 
 tracks would of necessity cease ; there they tied their 
 whole convoy of mares and horses, tail by neck, in 
 an Indian file, entered the channel of a stream which 
 led them down again to the bed of the river, forded 
 this and emerged in a moist hollow thronged with 
 cattle, threaded their way through these across the 
 moonlit plain, leaving only a single line of tracks, 
 which would soon be confused by the numerous foot- 
 prints of cattle crossing it, or filled up by the spongy 
 nature of the soil. Having reached the sand-hills to 
 the west, they relaxed the order, and their fresh trail 
 had been discovered by Costinetto, as we have seen. 
 
 But the Don and his party following on through 
 the rocky defile, hoping to recover the trail, were 
 
92 THE AMULET. 
 
 utterly foiled, and seeing that they were led astray, 
 returned wrathfully to San Pedro. As they returned 
 in the grey mist that rose from the river hollows 
 before the rising of the sun, a vaquero, leading a 
 large black horse with a load across the saddle, met 
 them. It was Costinetto with the body of ' Yankee 
 Jim.'* 
 
 Great was the excitement in the county of San 
 Luiz Obispo, and indeed in every Pueblo, mission, 
 and Rancho, from San Diego on the south to San 
 Francisco on the north, as a thousand living witnesses 
 can still attest. The great freebooter had fallen, ' El 
 Yanque, El guero maldito, El Demonio ! ' 
 
 ' Valgd-me Dios ! ' ejaculated the cabelleros. 
 
 ' Ave Maria ! Virgen purissima ! ' said the women. 
 
 For three years he had been the terror of the land. 
 Those who fled from law and from vengeance joined 
 him. The Indians of the plain were his scourge. 
 With them he swept through the country, driving 
 before him bands of horses, of brood mares, and price- 
 less mules. So he threaded the defile of Tejon or 
 San Lorenzo, sped northwards along the plain, skirted 
 the river San Joaquin, and sold his plunder in the 
 mining towns. 
 
 Once they had brought him to bay ; and those 
 who returned from that field told a horrible tale : 
 
 * As an historian I am bound to state that El Yanque was not 
 a citizen of the United States, but an Anglo-French Canadian, 
 who had studied the traffic of horse-flesh in Texas and New 
 Mexico. 
 
HE S PEE PHOSPHOR. 93 
 
 tow true or how false cannot be proved, but they 
 brought back two dead men in a litter a half-caste, 
 and Juan, the son of Mariano Arianas. 
 
 On another occasion, El Yanque had been sur- 
 rounded when reconnoitring a caballdda, alone and 
 afoot. He yielded to numbers, was taken to Monterey, 
 and committed to prison for trial on the following 
 day. But at sunrise on the following day two sailors 
 swam ashore, and pointed to a small felucca that 
 was standing out to sea. The astonished Alcalde and 
 citizens saw a negro at the wheel, and the tall figure 
 of El Yanque calmly pacing the narrow deck. The 
 calaboose was found roofless and tenantless. 
 
 But the mighty had fallen. 
 
 Nor had he fallen alone. El Ingles., the friend of 
 Don Alberto, had been the mark for a score of arrows 
 and half a score of rifles. Man and horse had been 
 swept away by the mountain torrent. So the report 
 had reached Los Ojitos. 
 
 Which Ingles was it ? El povrecito, the poor little 
 man without a beard. Where was Alberto ? Not a 
 word of him or of the other Ingles, el guero grande, 
 was heard. But Don Mariano took one man with 
 him, and rode away beyond the hills, that he might 
 learn the truth. 
 
 So it is, and so it will be. Men go their way, travel 
 to and fro by land and sea, buy and sell, fight and 
 are killed. The women stay at home, occupied about 
 their little cares, and wonder and tremble at the chill 
 blasts which reach them from the outer world. 
 
94- THE AMULET. 
 
 I think that women who love suddenly and in- 
 tensely are also smitten down at once by fierce strokes 
 of grief. They cannot take sorrow in instalments 
 bear to-day what is sufficient for to-day, and reserve 
 the surplus for to-morrow. 
 
 It is so with Juanita. She needs to ask no ques- 
 tions, nor listen to any. Those swift balls and cruel 
 arrows have laid her low. It is Don Carlos who has 
 fallen. Can she not see him riding foremost in the 
 fray, and falling first ? Has not the rushing of the 
 torrent sounded in her ears, since the tidings came, 
 a deadly downward flow, bearing in its wild course 
 the body of the man she loves ? 
 
 Yes, loves. She will not give him up will not 
 cease to love. She will go to him, and be with him 
 where he is. So she says to herself, poor child, little 
 thinking that Carlo, on his coarse canvas couch, is 
 tossing his fevered limbs, raving at intervals, and 
 calling her by all the tender names which haunt his 
 memory ; not dead, indeed, but far gone upon the 
 dim, shadowy road, and perhaps unconsciously cling- 
 ing to life for her sake who would fain die for his. 
 
 The forty days of fasting and mourning are ended. 
 Easter has returned ; but gay colours are for gay 
 hearts, and Mta will have none of them. In the 
 sombre garb of Lent she moves listlessly about, with 
 drooping head, and bright hair falling round a pale 
 wan face. She does not seek to be alone, but rather 
 clings to Madre, who grieves to see her so calm and 
 tearless, present yet so far away. Solitude and vio- 
 
HESPEE PHOSPHOR. 95 
 
 lent bursts of grief come before comfort; but this 
 fear to be alone this sad, silent wasting in the lap 
 of sympathy, is a grievous thing to look upon. A 
 half trance has fallen on her. When one speaks to 
 her, she starts and shudders, as if awaking out of a 
 horrible dream. Even Esteban pities her. 
 
 And Madre, to all around, maintained a calm de- 
 meanour, and looked as though hope lingered still. 
 But alone, she knelt and wept : ' My son and my 
 friend ! weary heart ! Lost, lost ! My God, Thy 
 ways are past finding out.' 
 
 One evening Juanita had lingered at her mother's 
 door, and heard this plaint. Then she came in, and 
 knelt too, and put one arm round her mother's neck, 
 and sobbed out, ' Dead, dead ! ' 
 
 Tears flowed at last, and her heart opened a little. 
 'Mother,' she said, pointing to her breast, 'he has 
 my cross.' 
 
 1 1 know it, sweet heart,' said the other. 
 
 ' Think you he has it still, my mother ? ' 
 
 'I believe it.' 
 
 ' On his heart, there, where he is ? ' 
 
 'I believe it well.' 
 
 Then they went and stood at the casement, and 
 gazed into the western sky, where Hesper shone 
 large and luminous. ' See,' Madre said thoughtfully, 
 ' yon fair star now setting rises again before the sun. 
 Love encircles us ever. Trust in God.' And they 
 wept and wept, such blessed tears as rise in true 
 hearts only. 
 
96 THE AMULET. 
 
 In the meantime William Briggs returned to ' the 
 little BancJio,' and found the wasted form of Carlo 
 stretched upon a pallet, with lack-lustre eyes and 
 white fevered lips ; the stooping figure of an Indian 
 crone huddled in a corner, swaying to and fro, and 
 muttering ancient incantations. 
 
 There was the strange letter as his friend had left 
 it, calling to him, as it were, out of the jaws of death, 
 and breathing of a double love, for himself and for 
 the daughter of Arianas. 
 
 Carlo did not recognise his friend, but stared pite- 
 ously at him, told him to ride round and take the 
 enemy in the rear, that he was alone and outnum- 
 bered, that he could neither advance nor retreat ; 
 then, seeing William immoveable, he burst into a 
 maniac laugh, and shouted, ' Blood, then, blood ! 
 Her brother fell. Who falls now ? Fiend ! Fiend ! 
 The wolf is on the trail. Who is this ? ' 
 
 His voice fell. His dim eyes still gazed at 
 William fixedly. His breast heaved. ' Juanita ! ' he 
 whispered, and, sitting up, stretched out his skinny 
 arms, one bandaged, the other naked ; ' Juanita ! 
 come nearer. One embrace ! the the first and last 
 on earth ! ' 
 
 Then his head drooped on the rough wooden frame- 
 work of the bed, his eyelids closed ; and perhaps a 
 tender vision succeeded the one of blood ; for tears, 
 ' idle tears,' again trickled out and fell upon the floor. 
 It was hard for William to leave his friend ; but the 
 crone ordered him out. ' Vaya ! ' she said, and pointed 
 
HESPER PHOSPHOR. 97 
 
 to the door imperiously. He felt that she was right, 
 and went ; so that the weird woman had Don Carlos 
 to herself; and, as far as human arbitrement extends, 
 his life was in her hands. 
 
 Who was she ? Costinetto had brought her, and 
 a mule laden with oranges and tomatos and febri- 
 fugal herbs, from the estate of San Pedro. She was 
 his sister. Housekeeper, nurse, and doctor to the 
 old Senor Don Joaquin. 
 
 William then put his strong shoulder to the wheel. 
 Leaving Manuel to assist La Forina, and to bring 
 him word if she wanted him, he took Cristobal and 
 Francisco, and laid down his seed, and swept it over 
 with a large bush of boughs, and built a lodge at 
 the head of the glade, where Francisco might live 
 and become a terror to crows. 
 
 Then came the Seiior Don Mariano, on his roan 
 horse, with Diego in attendance. Don Carlos was 
 still alive, or half alive ; Ghracias a Dios ! The avenger 
 of blood lived to receive a father's thanks. La Forina 
 tried another experiment. Don Carlos should see 
 him, should see HER father. Carlo looked at him 
 with a puzzled air. The Senor came and took his 
 hand a lean, sallow hand. The other seemed to 
 make an effort of memory. ' El pinto, "* he said, sadly, 
 and fell back, exhausted by the effort. 
 
 Where was Alberto ? Mariano asked of William. 
 
 Then William told him everything : how two hundred 
 
 cows were already gone ; how Alberto had not spent 
 
 a week on his Rancho ; how it was in the market with 
 
 H 
 
98 THE AMULET. 
 
 two hundred more cows for $10,000, or less ; how 
 Don Carlos had received a legacy of $2,000, part of 
 which had been invested in seed, in implements of 
 agriculture, and in swine. But William abstained 
 from mentioning that he thought of purchasing the 
 little Rancho himself, or indeed that he was possessed 
 of funds adequate to such an emergency. 
 
 William said that the Senor Don Silvestro Starchie 
 had a client who was willing to purchase, but that 
 they thought it right to offer Don Mariano the re- 
 fusal, nor would they take advantage of the impru- 
 dence of Don Alberto by hastily closing with the 
 offer. 
 
 ' Alberto is imprudent : Ca-ramba ! but if he must 
 sell, ten thousand piastres is a fair price. Money is 
 scarce in the metropolis. The drain of gold con- 
 tinual ; the import of coin small. No ; for me, my 
 Rancho and my spot of land in the Pueblo are suffi- 
 cient.' 
 
 The hidalgo went on to say that it was a little 
 Rancho, but a pretty one, and with fair pastures, 
 that he should be loth to remove his cattle. 
 
 William observed that the intending purchaser had 
 offered to keep Don Mariano's cattle, without com- 
 mission, and that, as he (William) and Don Carlos 
 were to remain in charge, every care would be taken 
 of them. 
 
 * The caballero is good ; but I shall press upon him 
 a fifth of the increase of my stock. Why should a 
 man buy land and give the grass ? ' 
 
HESPER PHOSPHOR. 99 
 
 Nor did William allude to his friend's passion for 
 the hidalgo's daughter. The subject was a closed 
 book between them. 
 
 After three days of anxiety, La Forina pronounced 
 that Don Carlos was out of danger. He saw and 
 recognised Don Mariano in a feeble manner ; but had 
 lost all recollection of what had happened from the 
 moment when he wrote, and fastened up in the 
 corridor, the farewell etter to his friend. 
 
 So the lord of Los Ojitos went his way ; but before 
 he went he addressed William as * Mi compadre Don 
 Giiillermo? To appreciate the extent of this favour, 
 we must understand that the manners of the Senor 
 were stately and reserved. 
 
 We have not recorded many of his words, partly 
 because he is not a principal actor in our little 
 drama, partly because it is impossible to render 
 Spanish talk in the garb of English talk, but prin- 
 cipally because he spoke little. His was a generous 
 nature, restrained by habitual caution a quality 
 which perhaps he valued more highly since the an- 
 nexation of his country by the United States. 
 
 In attempting to move with his time, the lord of 
 Los Ojitos was under heavy disadvantages. In the 
 first place, his title-deeds to the Hacienda, as he well 
 knew, were doubtful. Whereas the Franciscan Order 
 could show the original Royal grant to the whole 
 domain, his was only a tenant-right, to become free- 
 hold on certain conditions, the fulfilment of which 
 would now be difficult to prove or disprove ; but the 
 
 H2 
 
100 THE AMULET. 
 
 worst feature in his case was that this right had 
 been obtained from a short-lived Government, all 
 whose acts had been repudiated by its successor, 
 before the American war had broken out. Truly the 
 United States Commissioners had a perplexing task, 
 in this, as in many other cases of disputed Mexican 
 titles. 
 
 Again, Don Mariano, like most of his countrymen, 
 though admiring the energy and enterprise of Los Yan- 
 ques, had little respect for their other personal quali- 
 ties, and not being able to converse freely with them, 
 was unable to discern their real sentiments, and the 
 relative merits of one and another. In the meantime 
 he studied the rudiments of their language ; culti- 
 vated fruit at his little estate of Las Rosas ; drove his 
 two-year-old steers to the northern markets ; and 
 invested his capital in shares of the great Agua Fria 
 Mining Company. 
 
 As William said on a former occasion, there was 
 method in his generosity. He saw in the two Ingleses 
 useful allies ; and now especially, since one of them 
 had avenged his cause, had a personal regard for 
 them. They were men after his own heart ; brave, 
 gentle, and of simple tastes. 
 
 The dry season in that region lasts from April till 
 October without intermission. Then the pastures on 
 the seaboard fail ; the beasts fall off and are unfit for 
 market. 
 
 But by keeping a thousand head or so at Santa 
 
HESPERPHOSPHOE. 101 
 
 Perona, in good condition during the summer drought, 
 he might sell each year at an advantageous moment, 
 and net double profits. 
 
 So the Senor called William his ' compadre ; ' he 
 admired their sheds, approved of the glade, praised 
 their vigilance, was amused at the idea of turning 
 acorns into pigs' flesh, took an affecting leave of Don 
 Carlos, and was prodigal of kind phrases. Moreover, 
 he left Diego behind, who, as he said, was a bad 
 vaquero but a good gardener, having learned that 
 craft under Don Gabriel, his rnayordomo, at the little 
 garden in Los Angeles, 
 
 ' 'Wonder whether the old boy will come round,' 
 mused William as he rode away. 
 
 ' Son Gaballeros estos hombres, those are gentlemen,' 
 mused the other as he rode away. ' One loves my 
 child, but will not speak. He has killed my enemy. 
 I love him, pero no le conocOj Ca-ramba ! I do not 
 know him.' 
 
 And, indeed, what paterfamilias would willingly 
 hand his only child over to an interesting stranger in 
 a ragged shirt ? Your hand, Don Mariano ; nous 
 sommes d* accord. 
 
 Let us return to Los Ojitos. It is eventide. The 
 Senor has arrived, dismounted, greeted wife and 
 sisters ; but his daughter receives him with a pallid 
 face and vacant stare. Then her secret opens upon 
 him, for he has brought the clue to it from beyond 
 the hills. So he calls his wife aside; they talk 
 
102 THE AMULET. 
 
 earnestly together for awhile ; then the hidalgo comes 
 up to his child and kisses her, and passes out to 
 attend to other matters. 
 
 But Madre puts her arm round Juanita's waist, 
 leads her to her own room, and says tenderly, ' Take 
 off this sad garb, my child. Don Carlos is alive and 
 recovering from his wound.' 
 
 No one else was present at the scene, nor is any 
 detailed account of it on record. He should be a 
 bold man who would attempt to fathom the ocean of 
 a woman's heart in its depths of joy or sorrow. I 
 cannot do it. I am only informed that as the sun 
 sank below the horizon, the young lady came down 
 stairs in a white frock ; that her colour had returned, 
 but that her eyelids were red and swollen ; that she 
 told Julia she was ' so happy,' and then burst out 
 crying again, which must be considered a curious 
 illustration of felicity. 
 
 In the still moonlight, Juanita trips round to the 
 cottages at the back of the house. Angela, the 
 Sonorian, was sitting sadly in the corridor, listening 
 to the distant moaning of the sea. 
 
 ' Don't rise, Angela,' said the other, smiling through 
 her tears; 'I bring you good tidings. Cristobal is 
 safe and well, and has a house built of trees on a 
 beautiful knoll near a river ; and you and Thomasito 
 are to go and live there and be happy all the rest of 
 your lives.' 
 
 And she tripped away again. The waves ceased 
 
HESPEK PHOSPHOR. 103 
 
 to moan. The moonlight was sunlight. Juanita 
 was a gay butterfly sporting in its ray. 
 
 And Angela was right in connecting her with the 
 sunshine. Some women's hearts, and perhaps some 
 of ours too, in the spring-time of youth, are like 
 lenses which catch a few rays, however faint and 
 pale, and concentrate them into one bright luminary, 
 in the light of which they see well, perhaps some 
 simple object upon which the heart is set, some fond 
 imagining or sweet illusion. 
 
 Nor may we intrude on the private intercourse of 
 the hidalgo and his wife. Recounting the fray between 
 Don Carlos and the robbers, as he had received it 
 from Cristobal, the father must have reopened a deep 
 wound which time had closed, but which always bleeds 
 internally in a mother's heart. Probably the renewed 
 pang brought a little access of tenderness to the 
 father's heart; and whether the mother took that 
 occasion to plead a certain suit is not recorded. Her 
 manner revealed nothing. She was an instance of 
 the still water which runs deep ; calm but profound, 
 gentle yet strong ; strong in endurance, in faith, in 
 love. 
 
104 THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 CURSOKY. 
 
 DON CARLOS recovered from his wound ; bat pale 
 Death, which had alighted for a moment in the 
 mountain defile, and hovered for many days round the 
 humble dwelling at Santa Perona, took wing to San 
 Pedro, and there beat so loudly at the door that the 
 proud hidalgo was fain to open, and to send post 
 haste to San Miguel for the monk. 
 
 La Forina returned to her duty, and this time her 
 answer was not of life, but of death. The Seiior 
 would not live many days. Often had the Fray Don 
 Antonio besought him to forgive his daughter. Now, 
 in the face of the death- summons which La Forina 
 pronounced, the spiritual father stood beside the 
 father after the flesh, and said, ' My son, it is well to 
 be angry, but it is better to forgive.' 
 
 And the time had come when a man should exer- 
 cise the quality to which he trusts ; so a messenger 
 was despatched to Los Ojitos, conveying an apology 
 from the Seiior Don Joaquin to the Seiior Arianas, 
 and begging him to bring his wife and daughter, that 
 the old man might bless them before he died. And 
 
CURSORY. 105 
 
 they came in time. A wound which had bled for so 
 many years was healed ; but the Seiior Don Joaquin 
 passed away. 
 
 By the end of March William and his men had sown 
 twenty acres with barley and twenty acres with maize, 
 dividing the ' glade of oaks ' equally between the two. 
 Carlo took up his quarters at the head of the glade 
 as soon as his friend would suffer it. There he grew 
 strong again in brain and limb, cunning in device 
 against the crows, skilled in all approaches to the 
 glade, so that any track of steer from the valley, or 
 of bear or wolf from the mountains, was noticed by 
 his watchful eye, and prompted measures to restrain 
 or to avenge. At the upper end of the glade the 
 barley grew and ripened, stiffened into dusty gold, 
 and fell before the sickle ; while beyond that arose 
 the tall forest of Indian corn, bowing heavy tas- 
 selated heads, and waving its green plumage in the 
 breeze. 
 
 Angela proved a guardian angel to the swine ; 
 while Cristobal became a gardener. The whole 
 venture of beans, tomatos, onions, pumpkins, and 
 melons, was intrusted to his wife and him, with Diego 
 as a supernumerary ; and as the Seiiores allowed him 
 to pay for a share of the seeds, out of certain money 
 which Don Carlos had given him, the vaquero recog- 
 nised in himself an agriculturist who had an interest 
 at stake as well as a service to perform. 
 
 As soon as the period of close mourning for his 
 father was ended, Don Jose rode over to see the 
 
106 THE AMULET. 
 
 Englishmen, concerning whom he had heard so much 
 from Don Silvestro, from La Forma, and from Cos- 
 tinetto. This was about the middle of April. Carlo 
 had to thank the hidalgo for the services of the skil- 
 ful nurse who had set his arm and tended him through 
 the fever ; but no services which the house of Buena- 
 ventura could render would repay the obligation under 
 which Don Carlos had placed them by exposing his 
 life in the pursuit of their enemy. Every Ranchero 
 in the country owed him a debt. * And for me, I owe 
 you a mandda,' said the Don, whose forty mares had 
 escaped from the Indians, and came straggling 
 through the pass of San Lorenzo, within forty hours 
 of the time when El Yanque fell. 
 
 Don Mariano, he told them, had gone to see the 
 working of the Agua Fria mine, in which he was in- 
 terested ; but the Senora and her daughter and Dona 
 Julia were staying with him, and sent their greeting, 
 and thanked them for a handsome present of books 
 which had come to Los Ojitos, and hoped a long 
 time would not elapse before they should see the 
 caballeros. There were other friends of theirs, at 
 least of Don Guillermo, coming before the maize 
 harvest, and an evening ride should not separate old 
 friends. 
 
 Don Carlos had not quite recovered his strength at 
 that time, and was very busy during the day, so that 
 he could not avail himself of Don Jose's kindness at 
 present. 
 
 William Briggs, however, went and came, and 
 
CURSOKY. 107 
 
 went and came, and well the good chesmit knew the 
 trail to and from the mansion of Don Jose ; but very 
 rarely Carlo rode beside his friend, and never past the 
 lodge of Cristobal, where he would stay and exchange 
 a few kind words with Angela and her little swine- 
 herd (for Thomasito had been promoted to that office), 
 and then would return to his solitude among the oak- 
 trees. 
 
 A constant interchange of services went on between 
 San Pedro and Santa Perona, much to the advantage 
 of the female saint or her clients. For instance, Don 
 Jose would want the assistance of William and one 
 or two herdsmen for a day's work, after which they 
 would fare sumptuously, and return laden with 
 gifts to Santa Perona. Then Don Jose and half a 
 dozen Pedronians would come over and help the 
 Englishmen with some work. At sunset the Don 
 would send his men home to their Rancheria ; would 
 take his tea and carne secco with his hosts, or, if he 
 was in luck, a stew and a mess of beans ; would smoke 
 and talk long over the camp-fire, and return alone 
 when the moon was high. 
 
 On these occasions Don Carlos was of the party, 
 though on other nights he would stay alone in his 
 glade. ' I can't go there, you know, Will,' he used 
 to say ; ' at least I won't, though the pinto pulls hard 
 when -he gets to the boundary. Go along, donee 
 virenti canities abest ; I like the rustle of the maize 
 leaves, and the chatter of the green frog on the banks 
 of my stream.' 
 
108 THE AMULET. 
 
 Sometimes William would stroll up with him, or 
 to him, of an evening, and try to talk him out of his 
 sadness ; but Carlo's silence ' stumped ' him, as I 
 find it written in his diary. Indeed, to take up your 
 parable, and talk to a dear friend who is smoking a 
 long wooden pipe, and staring into the fire, wholly 
 unconscious of your eloquence, is disheartening. 
 
 The frequent evening visits of Don Guillermo to 
 the Hacienda may be attributed to this solitary and 
 reserved habit of his friend, with whose musings over 
 that lonely fire I could fill a book ; but it would be a 
 melancholy book, and perhaps a wearisome one : not 
 that Carlo was without hope or without energy; for 
 have I not said that he grew sound of brain and 
 limb, skilled and cunning in his pursuits ? 
 
 But after a hard day's work, or a fatiguing day's 
 sport, when a man sits over a lonely fire, and con- 
 sumes the fragrant weed, not hopeless, but with hope 
 postponed indefinitely, combating a strong temptation 
 with a stronger will, yet with an effort that leaves 
 him weak ; I say if a man so sits, and listens to the 
 sad whisper of a breeze in rank foliage, or a scanty 
 rivulet's tinkle in the pale moonlight, his thoughts 
 are apt to take a melancholy turn, or at best to have 
 a pleasure of that subtle kind which does not appear 
 to others ; a touch perhaps of what is called ' the 
 luxury of sorrow.' 
 
 On one occasion Don Jose had come with his 
 Indians to construct a sunk fence, with a palizada 
 against the upright side, round Cristobal's garden. 
 

 CURSORY. 109 
 
 After all the poles had been cut and pointed for the 
 palisade, the fence occupied ten days. It formed 
 three sides of a rectangle, and might be flooded from 
 the river, which formed the fourth side. 
 
 On the last day the Senoritas rode down from San 
 Pedro, one of them at least with a beating heart, to 
 see the garden turned into an island ; but Don Carlos 
 did not join the party, although he had been at work 
 there every day for hours, and indeed had designed 
 the fence; he was busy that morning in another 
 direction. 
 
 At length it occurred to Don Jose that Carlo 
 avoided meeting the ladies. One evening, after 
 supper, he turned suddenly on William, and said to 
 him in English, 'Why is it that your friend comes 
 not ? I also would have him for a friend. Tell me 
 why he stands aloof ? ' And William said, ' Ask the 
 Senora.' 
 
 So he turned less abruptly to Madre, and said, 
 in Spanish, ' Tell me, my sister, why Don Carlos 
 will not come to my house. His friend refers me 
 to you.' 
 
 And Madre turned to Juanita, who was standing 
 by her side, but looking down, and blushing behind 
 a veil of golden hair. She put her hair aside and 
 kissed her forehead, and said quietly, ' The fault is 
 not ours.' 
 
 Then the truth flashed upon Don Jose. ' Ah ! my 
 benign one,' he said, curiously. Then, thinking of it 
 for a few moments, he added aloud, ' The Ingles is 
 
110 THE AMULET. 
 
 poor, is he ? and proud as a cdballero should be, how- 
 ever poor. Shouldest have loved a rich man, mucha- 
 choi. Valga-me Dios ! A poor cabalUro, and a maid 
 with ten thousand cows to her dower ! Que carajo ! 
 What a dilemma ! 
 
 And from that time forth he set himself to devise 
 how the thing might be managed, took Juanita 
 under his wing, cultivated Don Carlos more kindly 
 than before, was always genial and merry with his 
 new friend, continually renewed his invitation, and 
 yet would make excuses for the other, when he 
 refused : ' Yes, I see, we could not expect you to- 
 night ; you are fatigued. So. This fever pulls one 
 down, and leaves the desire to be alone. Adios, amigo ! 
 Hdsta manana ! ' 
 
 A man of superior education and vigorous mind, 
 Don Jose formed, as it were, a link between the old 
 and numerically small race ofRancheros and the ' hun- 
 gry people ' which swarmed over the Sierra Nevada, 
 lighting first upon the gold-fields, but soon to spread, 
 and even now spreading, far and wide over the land, 
 to till, to sow, reap, and gather into barns, and to 
 count their dollars by tens of thousands in a year, 
 where their predecessors had counted them by thou- 
 sands in a decade. 
 
 Carlo and the Don became confidential on the sub- 
 ject of deer-stalking and the prospect of a lion-hunt. 
 They projected much sport for the autumn, when the 
 crops should be gathered in, and Don Jose would run 
 down from his senatorial duties in the capital, to ex- 
 
CURSORY. Ill 
 
 patiate in the broad plains of Tulare, or thread the 
 gorges of the Sierra del Monte Diablo. 
 
 Now, too, Carlo heard the story of a lion* hunt 
 which took place in the previous autumn. The beast 
 had been brought to bay, and while the vaqueros were 
 making their cast, a certain horse turned and fled. 
 A moment, and the lion was in pursuit. In vain they 
 pressed their horses. Pursued and pursuer vanished 
 swiftly. At length they came upon a prostrate horse. 
 It had broken its leg in a squirrel's hole. A few 
 yards farther on lay the body of a man with a shape- 
 less gory mass on its shoulders. It was poor Jacinto, 
 a kinsman of La Forina. Carlo expressed a desire to 
 make the acquaintance of that Puma ; but Don Jose 
 shook his head, and said reflectively, ' Ca-ramba! but 
 the devil was a fierce one.' 
 
 Now and again, when the Senor was going over to 
 'the little Bancho,' Juanita would mount her horse 
 and gallop by his side till they reached the boundary 
 house, where she would dismount and wait with An- 
 gela till he returned. 
 
 ' So kind and thoughtful he is,' Angela would say, 
 meaning, whom do you think ? And she would point 
 to her clean white sheets and cotton prints, and say 
 that he ordered them to be paid for out of his own 
 money, though he had no sheets for himself, but slept 
 on a common hide ; and gave this warm bear- skin to 
 Thomasito, because, as he said, the bear might have 
 
 * Felis concolor, Puma. 
 
112 THE AMULET. 
 
 killed him, and then he should have wanted no robes ; 
 but Don Carlos killed the bear ; my liombre only 
 stabbed it afterwards.' A confused narrative : wo- 
 men are so discursive. 
 
 Those interviews were very pleasant to Juanita. 
 A young lady of delicate nurture, and accustomed to 
 the society of refined minds, forgot herself so far as 
 to spend hours and hours with a mere Sonorian half- 
 caste, the wife of a common vaquero ! 
 
 But, after all, it is a world of burthens. The earth 
 bears its load of humanity and heavy brutes ; these 
 bear our burthens or pay the penalty of premature 
 death. So we must each stagger along, if we are 
 weak, with our seen or unseen load ; and a helping 
 hand or an arm to lean upon sometimes does not 
 come amiss when we have to clamber among rocks, 
 or toil through sand, or wander to and fro in dark- 
 ness. 
 
 So it happened that this frail damsel, whom An- 
 gela had likened to a butterfly, had a weight upon her 
 heart which the gauzy wings could barely lift ; and 
 if another could share that burthen, or give her little 
 draughts of strength to bear it, could she complain 
 because that other owned a taint of blood, or that her 
 husband was a herdsman ? Sympathy is a want of 
 nature, not of breeding. 
 
 And then a gallop of two leagues along an undu- 
 lating plain, through sunny pastures and dark, silent 
 groves, with a flash of the bright river here and 
 
CURSORY. 113 
 
 there ; to inhale the balmy breath of cows, and the 
 fragrance of the summer wind, laden with perfume 
 from flowery knolls and the dim retreats of scented 
 herbs ; this is so pleasant to the young. And what 
 damsel would not love to ride such a gallant steed 
 by the side of such a splendid uncle ? 
 
 Now, although I have shown in glimpses the heroic 
 side of Juanita's character ; and though I think that 
 out of nature's book she had learnt some of the 
 nobler lessons of life, such as depth of purpose and 
 strength of trustfulness; I am not to exalt such 
 acquirements unduly, or forget that children should 
 obey. 
 
 When last we accompanied the paternal Arianas 
 on horseback, we saw black Care sitting on his crup- 
 per, and dinning in his ears that Don Carlos, who had 
 killed his enemy, loved his daughter. ' Ca-ramba /' 
 rejoined the Don, 'but I do not know Don Carlos.' 
 And is it to be expected that a man should pass a 
 lifetime in growing rich, should find himself past the 
 meridian of life with one child only, should have his 
 ear wedded to certain forms of speech and modula- 
 tions of the voice, his sympathies educated, as it were, 
 on a certain type of mind and heart, with all its good 
 and its evil; and should suddenly cast sympathies 
 and prejudices to the wind, and bestow his wealth 
 and his child on a stranger ? 
 
 The Don went so far as to think about it ; but he 
 loved his countrymen with their virtues and their 
 t 
 
114- THE AMULET. 
 
 vices, their drawling bastard- Spanish and olive com- 
 plexions ; he loved his garden in the Pueblo, his 
 Rancho on the wild sea-shore, his grape-vines, and 
 his countless herds ; but, above all, he loved his 
 child. It was too much to expect of a father's 
 heart. ' Valga-me Dios ! ' he muttered. ' No quiero los 
 estrangeros.' Not that he really was without regard 
 for his new friends, but that he was not ready 
 to make such a terrible venture, or to sacrifice so 
 much. 
 
 Still the father saw there was danger. He saw 
 into his daughter's heart, and knew that hot blood 
 coursed in her veins though her skin was fair. He 
 knew that the calm waters of her life, though smiling 
 in sunshine like a mountain lake, might be lashed 
 into fury by a sudden blast, seethe around the little 
 bark of duty, and bury it in a living tomb. He felt 
 so much, and loved her the better for being like her 
 sire. ' A woman's tender hand,' he thought, ' shall 
 guide the helm.' 
 
 So he said nothing, but was more gentle to his 
 child than had been his wont. But Dona Juana again 
 took her daughter aside, and said, * We must conquer 
 this unwise passion, my child.' 
 
 But the other looked at her calmly. The child was 
 a woman in the face of danger. 
 
 ' Do not tell me love is foolish, mother. This is a 
 new lesson from you.' 
 
 ' Love is wise when wisely placed.' 
 
CURSORY. 115 
 
 4 On a brave man and an honourable, as my father 
 has said.' 
 
 ' Your father forbids. It is unwise to disobey.' 
 
 ' O, cruel father ! Did you not disobey for him ? ' 
 
 ' And the years of sorrow I have passed ! ' 
 
 1 Have we not been happy, then ? ' 
 
 ' Happy in each other, child ; but I have hidden a 
 bleeding heart from you. My cup of woe is fall to 
 the dregs. My father and son are taken, now my 
 husband and child will love me no more.' 
 
 And an expression of anguish came over the Se- 
 nora's face, which was wont to beam with faith and 
 trust. The other was overcome. Who was she, to 
 shatter the building of a life, to destroy her mother's 
 peace ? 
 
 1 Madre mia ! I will never leave thee, never give 
 thee pain. Kiss me, dear mother. Now, tell me : 
 what shall I do ? ' 
 
 1 My lot is cruel. I must strike what I would 
 cherish.' 
 
 1 No, no ; only let me love him. Papa shall not 
 see it : I shall be so uncomplaining.' 
 
 And so the dialogue ended. The mother had made 
 the attempt and failed. Fiat justitia ! Juanita has 
 been weighed in the balance and found wanting. 
 Alas, for filial obedience under the sun ! 
 
 And who shall say how much of this blind trust 
 was founded in delusion ? . Had Juanita known that 
 Don Carlos had returned the amber cross, think you 
 i2 
 
116 THE AMULET. 
 
 hope could have struggled on, or love lived without 
 hope ? Had Madre known it, would she have failed 
 in her attempt so easily ? Of one thing I am well 
 assured : that they little thought the pious pledge of 
 love was reposing amongst cigaritos and German 
 tinder in the chaqueta pocket of Don Alberto. 
 
ir 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 EPISTOLARY. 
 
 THE editor of this narrative has at hand an original 
 document which casts a light upon some of its 
 characters in a new group, and some of its incidents 
 from a new point of view ; and as it is written in that 
 engaging style known as the female epistolary, he 
 does not hesitate to transcribe the greater part of it 
 for the reader's edification. It appears that Don 
 Alberto with his young wife, and Don Silvestro 
 Starchie with his amiable sister and daughter, ar- 
 rived at San Pedro early in June. 
 
 'My darling Annie' (the latter young lady writes), 
 ' a thousand thanks for your nice long letter, which 
 has given me I can't tell you how much pleasure 
 # # # # # 
 
 'Auntie and I have been here for a fortnight, 
 Papa was with us for the first few days, but was 
 obliged to go back to San Francisco, and will not re^ 
 turn till the maize harvest, which will be in the latter 
 part of July. I should perhaps have told you about 
 the other ladies first. There is Dona Juana (or 
 Madre), Don Jose's sister, who ran away with her 
 
118 THE AMULET. 
 
 husband, the Senor Don Mariano, years ago, and was 
 never allowed to come home till quite lately, when 
 the dear old gentleman was dying. Her daughter 
 is a lovely pet: we call her "JSTita" or "Mna." 
 Then there is Madre's sister-in-law the Dona Julia, 
 and Dona Isabel the wife of Don Alberto. The only 
 gentlemen at present are Don Alberto, who is Madre's 
 brother-in-law, and the Senor Don Jose, our host. 
 
 ' ISTow, dear, I know what you are waiting for. Yes, 
 William com.es very often, and is such a favourite 
 with everybody. He is not sad, I assure you ; in- 
 deed, he says " Carlo does the romance part of the 
 business" for both of them, and William is growing 
 very wicked. Take this, for instance. 
 
 ' Last night, after supper, Don Jose had been tell- 
 ing us a terrible story of a lion-hunt, when Nita 
 said, " Dear uncle, how I should like un leoncillo (a 
 little whelp) ! ' The Senor only smiled ; but when 
 we were standing by the fountain afterwards, La 
 Forina, an old Indian nurse, came and touched Mta's 
 hand, and said, " Dost indeed wish for a whelp ? " 
 Mta looked at her for a moment, then clasped her 
 hands and said, " O, no, Forina, dear ! Don't ask 
 him!" 
 
 ' I told William, who was here at breakfast ; for I 
 was afraid La Forina was going to ask him to get a 
 cub, and the lion is a terrible creature ; and poor 
 Jacinto, a vaquero, was killed by one last year. But 
 William said, " It's Carlo. He's epris of his old 
 nurse, and would fight the foul fiend for a word from 
 
EPISTOLARY. 119 
 
 her lips." But La Forina is very old and ngly ; and 
 only think of William talking like that ! 
 
 ' But before I tell you anything more about him or 
 anyone else, I ought to give you some idea of this most 
 romantic spot. The house, then, forms three sides of 
 a square, with a double piazza (el balcon) running 
 round the inside. The doors and windows of both 
 stories open on to the piazza, which opens on to a 
 smooth lawn with a few pear-trees and the most deli- 
 cious fountain. Beyond the lawn and the broad val- 
 ley, the chain of the Monte Diablo rises in tall peaks, 
 over which the sun rises, and at sunset they seem to 
 faint away in an amber- tinted sky. 
 
 ' You must know that Don Jose speaks English 
 beautifully, as if he were reading out of a book ; 
 and so I told him that the Casa of San Pedro re- 
 minded me of a poem which I am very fond of, 
 though I don't understand it a bit ; and I repeated 
 to him the stanza 
 
 Full of long sounding corridors it was, 
 
 That over-vaulted grateful gloom, 
 Thro' which, the livelong day, my soul did pass, 
 
 Well pleased, from room to room. 
 
 i He made me say it again slowly ; then, " Virgen 
 purissimal" he exclaimed, though I can't see what 
 the Virgin Mary has to do with it can you, dear ? 
 
 ' The weather is intensely hot. I am writing at a 
 little low table in the piazza. The ladies are sitting 
 about working ; at least, Doiia Isabel is pricking her 
 
120 THE AMULET. 
 
 husband with a long needle, and Juanita is peeping 
 over my elbow. She is something like my Annie, 
 with real golden hair, not yellow like mine, and blue 
 eyes. The Senor says that the type is hereditary in 
 his family, and that it appears in every second or 
 third generation. As for Don Alberto, he looks at 
 us two together and says, " Gueras, gueras, y tan 
 bonitas ! " How fair they are, and how pretty ! But 
 you know, dear, some people's looks are more com- 
 plimentary than others' words. 
 
 4 To return : in the first place, there are no carpets 
 in the house except a little scrap in each bedroom 
 under a crucifix ! Only think, dear ! but the boards 
 are kept clean and white like the deck of a ship. 
 There are no damask curtains ; but the glass doors 
 and windows have little muslin blinds to them. The 
 doors are left open all day and the windows all night, 
 though it is quite cold just before sunrise. In the 
 daytime we lounge about on little ottomans covered 
 with crimson satin, in the cool corridors I mean 
 the ladies when I say "we." The gentlemen seldom 
 sit down, William says chairs are a relic of the 
 dark ages. They lean against the cedar pillars, or 
 lie down on the smooth floor, which makes them look 
 very interesting. You know we like to have gentle- 
 men at our feet, dear. But William says that Don 
 Alberto looks like a tame iguana, which I believe is 
 a species of crocodile. 
 
 ' The domestic servants are wives and children of 
 Indian vaqueros, men who gallop about after cattle, 
 
EPISTOLARY. 121 
 
 flourishing long lassos or redtas over their heads. 
 They live in the back part of one wing, and have a 
 court at the back, where the cooking, washing, and 
 other things are done. The ladies don't " wash " 
 here, I am happy to say. 
 
 ' But half a mile from the house is the Rancheria, 
 or village, containing about fifty families of peons, or 
 tame Indians. It is such a bizarre place. Fancy a 
 double row of brown sugar-loaf huts, each eight 
 feet high, and fires burning day and night along the 
 middle of the street. Then imagine a number of 
 brown women, with long black hair escaping from 
 a yellow silk handkerchief bound round the head, 
 with little white chemises and a short skirt of printed 
 calico. Set these to work stirring porridge over the 
 fires, or pounding maize, or plaiting rush baskets, 
 with a host of little boys fetching and carrying, or 
 nursing babies, and you have a sketch of the Ban- 
 cheria, when the men are absent. Those funny crea- 
 tures pop their heads through a hole in a woollen 
 sarape, which falls around them in broad stripes of 
 white and crimson. It must be a very uncomfort- 
 able way of dressing, but they seem, to like it. 
 
 ' And what do you think, dear ? Don Jose has 
 offered Don Carlos (" Carlo") something very hand- 
 some to come and live here and be his overseer. The 
 Indians are idle when he goes to San Jose to take 
 his seat in the Senate ; and one or two have learnt to 
 gamble and drink, and will corrupt the others if care 
 is not taken. June 17th. I was going to tell you 
 
122 THE AMULET. 
 
 more about Don Carlos, but we went for a long ride 
 yesterday, and I cannot write in the evenings, for we 
 are all together, talking, and singing, and sighing, or 
 perhaps laughing, in the piazza, without any lights 
 but the moon and stars. It is only in the morning, 
 when the gentlemen are not here, or only Don 
 Alberto, that I can write. And now this dear Julia 
 wants to know what I can have to say after writing 
 such a long letter, and whether you are beautiful, 
 and whether I think you would like her, which I 
 know you would. 
 
 ' Now, Annie, I am going to tell you two secrets. 
 First, I think Juanita is almost or quite in love with 
 William. There is evidently something preying upon 
 her mind. She is very sad and restless ; but when 
 William comes in, will go and cling to his arm, and 
 look so loving, and say pretty, simple things to him : 
 but he is so calm and impassive, that of course one can 
 be more free with him than with anyone else. Indeed, 
 he treats her and me too as if we were children ! If 
 he did condescend to fall in love again, I think it 
 would be with Julia. She is a brunette, with large 
 lustrous black eyes and downcast lids, and the most 
 beautiful mouth. She scarcely ever smiles, though 
 her teeth are perfect ; but, when he speaks to her, 
 lifts up her eyelids and looks calmly at him, or goes 
 on with her work, sustaining her part in the conver- 
 sation by a little softly-spoken word here and there. 
 Between you and me, I don't think she has much to 
 say for herself ; but she has a way of sighing when 
 
EPISTOLARY. 123 
 
 he is near her, which looks like something ; and he 
 certainly is more gracious to her and to Madre than 
 to any of us. 
 
 * And I am opprest with another secret which is no 
 secret to you, namely, that William has bought " the 
 little Rancho" and two hundred cows with his own 
 money. All the others here, except Auntie, think 
 that a merchant in San Francisco has bought the 
 estate, and that William is his bailiff. And I am sure 
 I shall let it out some day to Mta, who twines herself 
 round one in the most irresistible manner, and asks 
 questions in broken English with such a sweet smile 
 that one can't help answering her. Only she never 
 asks questions about "Don Carlos." 
 
 ' What shall I or can I tell you about him ? He 
 will not come near us, nor does he even live with 
 William, but all by himself in a solitary glen at the 
 head of this long valley. He cannot be so wicked as 
 we thought, or William would not be so attached to 
 him ; and I heard Don Jose say to papa, " No, I do 
 not like Don Carlos. It is a man whom I love." 
 Dona Julia, who saw so much of him at Los Ojitos, 
 says he is a slender person, not much taller than papa, 
 but with curly hair, grey eyes, with a mild expression 
 and long dark lashes like her own. And then she 
 gives such a sigh and says she wishes he were a rich 
 man, which puzzles me, because I cannot make out 
 whether she is in love with him or with William. 
 
 ' I heard the praises of Don Carlos again, at the 
 boundary of the two estates, from a gardener's wife, 
 
124 THE AMULET. 
 
 who showed me the hide of a most dreadful " grizzly 
 bear" which he had killed. I told you in my last the 
 fearful story of his fight with the robbers in the pass 
 of Chelone. And only yesterday William told us that 
 he had a wrestle with a she-bear in the gold mines, 
 you know, dear, or whatever that place was at the 
 foot of Mount Shasta, and that they both (Carlo and 
 the bear) rolled down a hill together and tumbled 
 into a dry ravine, but that Carlo got up and ran away 
 while the bear was rubbing its back ! I should so 
 like to see him ! 
 
 ' Perhaps the real secret of his popularity is that he 
 is generous to poor people. He refused the reward 
 for killing that bad man, and gave two hundred dol- 
 lars of his own to each of the vaqueros who were with 
 him (though I believe they hid behind a rock), and 
 two hundred to La Forina, who nursed him through 
 the fever. 
 
 ' But I must not forget to tell you about threshing 
 the barley, which we arrived just in time to see. The 
 rick is in the middle of a round enclosure ; and a 
 number of wild mares with their colts, except the 
 very little ones, are driven in. The Seiior, and Wil- 
 liam (Don Guillermo they call him), and several 
 Indians, stand on the rick and pitch the barley down 
 behind the horses, which keeps them in perpetual 
 terror: so they go galloping round and round for 
 hours together, only stopping now and then to take 
 breath and stare wildly about them, and then off 
 again. In the middle of the day they are released, 
 
EPISTOLARY. 125 
 
 the straw is thrown over the palings and the corn 
 collected with wooden spades. Fresh mares are then 
 sent for, and in the meantime we have dinner round 
 a real camp-fire, under a great sycamore-tree near 
 the river, with the wild figures in their red and white 
 sarapes hovering about. 
 
 ' The mares are splendid creatures. They are never 
 ridden, you know, but wander about in a large band 
 called a mandda, with one horse and their dear little 
 foals. We have beautiful horses to ride, too. They 
 never want to trot, and the least touch of the rein on 
 the neck guides them wherever you want to go. 
 
 ' Now, my dear Annie, you will be tired of your 
 poor little gossiping Clem ; but 
 
 ****** 
 
 ' Next month you shall hear about the maize har- 
 vest, which I am longing to see ; only we shall have 
 to go so soon afterwards. Two pretty sisters of Isabel 
 are coming here on a visit before the party breaks 
 up. I wonder whether they will make an impression 
 upon anybody ? 
 
 ' William is writing by this mail. Kiss the pets 
 for their dear Clem, and kiss this paper which I am 
 kissing now, that our lips may meet across the wide, 
 wide sea.' 
 
126 THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 SUMMARY. 
 
 Ay cuan mal, dulce enemiga, 
 Las veras de amor me pagas ! 
 Pues, en cambio del, me ofreces 
 Ingratitud y mudanza ! 
 
 4 T\0 you know, Will,' said Carlo to his friend one 
 \J evening, ' I think I could stand it better if I 
 were to see her now and then.' 
 
 The ladies had been three months on the next 
 Rancho, and Carlo had not yet set eyes upon them. 
 
 W. B. I think so too. I'm not for total abstinence 
 in anything. 
 
 C. Can you tell me one thing ? 
 
 W. B. I'll try. 
 
 (7. Is she sad ? 
 
 W. B. No, I can't say she is. 
 
 C. Another thing, Bill ; does she wear a little am- 
 ber cross, which you must have seen her with, at Los 
 Ojitos ? 
 
 W. B. No. 
 
 C. Never? 
 
 W. B. Never. 
 
SUMMARY. 127 
 
 Then Carlo thought to himself' After all, I'm a 
 fool to make a mountain of a molehill. If she 'loved 
 me, she would wear the cross, and wouldn't be so 
 jolly. I know I'm not. I should like to see her happy. 
 I'll go. No, my heart fails. I'll stop here with my 
 frogs and snakes.' 
 
 W. B. And there is another thing, Carlo. 
 
 C. Out with it. 
 
 W. B. You won't be furious. 
 
 C. No, I'm past that. 
 
 W. B. Well, I think; mind you, I don't know, but 
 
 I think In short, there is a very handsome young 
 
 man paying a visit to San Pedro just now. 
 
 C. Yes? 
 
 W. B. A sort of cousin ; that is, son of Mariano's 
 cousin, who was Director Supremo of the Republic. 
 
 G. I heard Alberto talk about him. Shot, wasn't 
 he? 
 
 W. B. Yes. Well, this Marcos is his son. 
 
 C. Exactly. 
 
 W. B. And, you know, the ex- director invested his 
 gleanings in British Three-and-a- Quarters. 
 
 C. Downy old gentleman. 
 
 W. B. So that Marcos has the advantage of you. 
 
 C. Yes, I see. Then there's no occasion to stay 
 away any longer. 
 
 And they rode together. 
 
 We have seen in a former chapter how Clem had 
 been led, by the artful ways of a certain Senorita, to 
 think that her affections were fixed on William. 
 
128 THE AMULET. 
 
 William, on the contrary, thought to himself, ' They 
 love to feel their power, these pretty tyrants. She 
 knows Carlo is afraid of her by his staying away. 
 She is coaxing me to bring him, that she may keep 
 him at her feet.' 
 
 William's keen eye had also noticed that Jnanita 
 did not wear the cross which Carlo had returned. 
 He had seen that token peeping from the folds of 
 Carlo's shirt, on their arrival at Santa Perona, and 
 missed it after Alberto's second departure. 
 
 ' She has thrown it aside, in a pet/ he thought, 
 1 and will bring him to an account the next time he 
 comes within range of her guns.' 
 
 So William was not sorry to see Carlo stay away 
 from this wily foe for a time. ' Yet,' he thought, 
 1 there should be a limit to evasion. When the enemy 
 is fairly baffled, and one's magazine replenished, one 
 should face about and show fight.' 
 
 On these general maxims, William had latterly 
 been anxious to take Carlo to San Pedro ; and since 
 the arrival of Don Marcos, he thought all danger was 
 past. ' Enemy's right wing engaged : no chance for 
 her.' 
 
 So Don Carlos was marching on to victory. 
 
 At the Casa there was a numerous and a pleasant, 
 if not merry, gathering. Don Mariano had returned 
 with his kinsman. The two beautiful sisters of Dona 
 Isabel had arrived, and Don Silvester Starchie had 
 returned in time for the maize harvest. 
 
 They were enjoying the cool hour and the reflected 
 
SUMMARY. 129 
 
 light of sunset : for the great house stood on the 
 slope of low hills which bound the valley to the 
 west ; the court, with its trees and fountain, were in 
 deep shadow ; over the valley hung a purple haze, 
 above which the peaks of San Lorenzo * stood up, 
 black and rugged, against an amber sky. 
 
 William was right in his conjecture, as far as the 
 gentleman was concerned. Don Marcos was a suitor 
 for his little cousin's hand. He had told her, this 
 ten years, that he would marry her, whether she 
 would or no; and to such an arrangement there 
 seemed no possible objection. 
 
 He had also the advantage of Don Carlos in other 
 respects. He was at least four inches taller than the 
 latter. Like the Senor Don Jose, he had black lumi- 
 nous eyes and magnificent purple moustachios. He 
 had, moreover, an estate as large as half a county, in 
 the province of Sonora, reported to contain vast 
 mineral wealth. His yacht, a Baltimore clipper of 
 two hundred tons burthen, was riding at anchor in 
 the Bay of Monterey ; and he was a shareholder and 
 an active manager of the great Agua Fria Mining 
 Company. 
 
 This brilliant personage, leaning against a pillar of 
 the corridor, opposite to where Juanita sat, sang a 
 candoncito, to which he accompanied himself on the 
 guitar. It ran thus : 
 
 * A precipitous group in the chain of the Monte Diablo. 
 K 
 
130 THE AMULET. 
 
 Hast thou forgotten 
 
 Thine ancient vow ? 
 "Wilt thou recall it ? 
 
 Eecall it now. 
 Others have told me, 
 
 Come, tell me thou ; 
 Hast thou forgotten 
 
 Thine ancient vow ? 
 
 Others have told me, 
 
 Come, let me hear ; 
 Put thy sweet lips, love, 
 
 Close to mine ear ; 
 Tell it not sadly, 
 
 No, not a tear ; 
 Grief cometh gladly 
 
 If thou art near. 
 
 Are thine arms round me 
 
 Tenderly now ? 
 Hath a spell bound me, 
 
 Or is it thou ? 
 If it be thou, love, 
 
 Come, tell me now ; 
 Hast thou forgotten 
 
 Thine ancient vow ? 
 
 Obviously the song might mean much, little, or 
 nothing. Any value which bystanders or sitters 
 attached to it would depend on theories for which it 
 was not responsible. 
 
 Juanita listened calmly enough to the first two and 
 a half stanzas ; then her ears refused their office ; 
 the blood rushed to her finger-tips, suffused her face 
 in the dim twilight, rushed back to her heart, and 
 stagnated, or seemed to stagnate, there. 
 
SUMMARY. 131 
 
 For her eyes had lit upon two figures that stood 
 near her, waiting for a pause. Don Guillermo was 
 one. She had scarcely seen the other. There was 
 no need of seeing. His presence was felt in every 
 nerve of her delicate frame. It was Don Carlos. 
 
 ' He comes thus,' she thought, ' to taunt me. He 
 holds my token, and has kept apart all these weary 
 months; and now, thinking I love this man, has 
 come to triumph over me.' 
 
 And when he drew near, she rose up, with the blue 
 blood of her mother's house overbearing the woman 
 in her heart. She looked him coldly in the face : 
 her lips smiled scornfully. l Como le va Usted, Senor 
 Don Carlos ? ' she asked politely ; and receiving no 
 answer, went on : * The ladies will be charmed to 
 know a caballero of whom they have heard so much, 
 and seen so little.' 
 
 And taking the arm of Don Marcos, she swept a 
 curtsey to Carlo, stepped out on to the lawn, and 
 vanished among the pear-trees. 
 
 Carlo, too, was shocked at heart. 'I lifted her 
 from the ground,' he thought. ' I would not bind 
 her : I bound myself at her feet, and she tramples on 
 me.' 
 
 Carlo had greeted no one. Alone in his wretched- 
 ness, he stood there, stunned and senseless, for some 
 minutes. 
 
 ' Aquel hombre ! ' said one, in wonder. 
 
 4 Tan povrecito ! ' said another, who thought liim 
 crazed. 
 
 K2 
 
132 THE AMULET. 
 
 But Julia, like a white angel in a dim aisle, walked 
 up to him. tenderly. 
 
 ' Don Carlos,' she said, in a soft low tone. 
 
 He looked at her with a weird scared glance, 
 glided behind a pillar, sped along the lawn, flew over 
 the low railings, and vanished. 
 
 William followed him. The Senor Don Jose fol- 
 lowed William round to the sheds. The ladies 
 followed as far as the wicket-gate. 
 
 ' What harm, Carlo ? ' asked William innocently. 
 
 ' Harm ? ' shouted the other. And again Carlo 
 made use of the strong monosyllable ; but this time 
 with a harsh sound of compressed rage. His eyes 
 glared at William under the dark shed, as he swept 
 past ; striking the pinto' 's flanks with the great blunt 
 rowels of his jingling spurs, and going at the rail 
 fence which closed the yard ; crashing through the 
 two top bars went the wild horse, and away again, 
 past the astonished company, who saw Don Carlos 
 vanishing in this way, without lifting his sombrero, 
 or saying a word. 
 
 'Awe Maria ! ' they whispered : l Aquel hombre ! ' 
 ' Aquel Ingles ! ' ' Virgen Sanctissima ! ' 
 
 But the sdngre azul resumed its course in Juanita's 
 veins ; her heart spoke up and would be heard. 
 'Hast been cruel,' it said to her ; 'art worthless, to 
 trample on a brave man, bound to thy feet.' 
 
 Don Jose passed the matter off lightly. Don 
 Carlos had lived so secluded a life since the fever. 
 He was liable to a seizure in company. He would 
 
SUMMARY. 133 
 
 come again. The oddness would wear off. Es ndda, 
 it is nothing. 
 
 The company resumed their positions. Conversa- 
 tion went on again in that desultory capricious man- 
 ner suited to the occasion. William returned, and 
 having seen that the Dona Julia alone made a kind 
 advance to his friend, when staggered by an unkind 
 blow, he took her hand and said to her, 
 
 ' God bless you ! Dios te guarde de mal ! ' 
 
 She lifted her eyes and looked into his honest 
 heart, and, no doubt, saw it as it was ; while he felt 
 how different was the ray of this calm tranquil 
 name from the old-love light, with its fitful gleams 
 and flashes. 
 
 William, you see, was forming a Platonic friend- 
 ship for Julia. 
 
 But Mta sat apart, with downcast eye and tremu- 
 lous foot, nor looked up into the starry heavens or 
 to the ' everlasting hills ' for strength, but rebelled 
 against nature, and belied her heart. 
 
 4 Why did he come at that moment ? ' she thought. 
 ' Why did Don Guillermo bring him ? Cruel, heart- 
 less man ! Would not bring him once in these long 
 lonely months ; and now tells him I love another, 
 and brings him to see it.' And she beat the ground 
 with an angry foot. Still this was a shade nearer 
 the truth. It was William, not Don Carlos, who 
 timed the visit. 
 
 Again one smote the guitar ; but she rose hurriedly 
 and slid away in the gloom of the corridor. If any- 
 
134 THE AMULET. 
 
 one had looked, lie would have seen another white 
 figure in pursuit ; two ghosts flitting noiselessly 
 along. So true it is that we are surrounded by a 
 legion of spirits, and that we move not alone, whether 
 we move for evil or for good. 
 
 They sped along the corridors, reached the wicket, 
 glided through without a sound, crossed the broad 
 road, and vanished among the standard fruit-trees. 
 The moon was below the hill ; only a few dim star- 
 light glimmers reached them. The first spirit felt 
 itself clasped by the second. It turned and said, 
 
 * Comest to taunt me ? ' 
 
 Julia. When have I said an unkind word, Nina ? 
 
 Nita. Why come, then, seeing I wish to be alone ? 
 
 Julia. We are alone together. Unburthen your 
 heart to me. 
 
 Nita. Where shall I begin ? 
 
 Julia. The cross : where is it ? 
 
 Nita. He has it still. 
 
 Julia. Then he loves you still. It is plain enough 
 on other showing. Think you Don Marcos would 
 be so crushed by your feeble scorn ? Knowest well 
 he would mock thy mock-majesty with a laugh. Be 
 content, hermanita ; hast the whole heart of an 
 honourable man. 'Tis a gem of price. 
 
 And Juanita went back comforted, with her arm 
 round Julia's waist ; not content as the other would 
 have had her, yet feeling that the gem of price was 
 hers. And possession is something, if not every- 
 thing. 
 
SUMMARY. 135 
 
 Have a care, my pretty maid ! What we value 
 lightly we hold loosely. It may escape your hold 
 yet ; and in its place you may find the Seiior Don 
 Marcos, with his estate, and his yacht, and his Agua 
 Fria shares, and his heart in his own keeping. 
 Quedado ! 
 
 Let us return to Don Carlos. Arrived at the 
 glade, restored by the cool night air, he thought, ' I 
 have made a fool of myself, and exposed my folly.' 
 Then pride came to his aid. ' Enough of this,' he 
 thought ; ' three months' blind folly and supersti- 
 tion, worshipping a figment of the brain, a molten 
 image fused in the furnace of the heart.' 
 
 Having stalled the pinto, and examined and oiled 
 the scars which that noble steed had acquired in 
 charging the oak rails, Carlo loaded his pipe, put his 
 pot on the fire, and went to his canister for tea. 
 * I'm a lord of the creation at last,' he mused ; ' such 
 a blow as that knocks a fool down, and he gets up 
 
 Three days after these events there was a merry 
 scene in the i Glade of Oaks.' Twenty-five Pedronian 
 women, in the picturesque costume described by 
 Clem, were marching through the maize, trampling 
 down each stem, and plucking out the golden ears. 
 After them straddled swarthy, unclad children, 
 placing rush baskets to catch the falling treasures, 
 and emptying these in rows of glittering pyramids. 
 
 The glade rung with other voices and other 
 
136 THE AMULET. 
 
 laughter than tliat of the squaws, at their pretty toil. 
 For in Carlo's bower was a picnic party of the gayest. 
 It consisted of all the ladies and all the gentlemen 
 from San Pedro. 
 
 Don Carlos had shaken off his weird humour, had 
 been to and fro between San Pedro and the glade, had 
 become a universal favourite, and, indeed, with the 
 help of Don Jose, had organised this scene of rustic 
 dissipation at the ladies' special request. They longed 
 to see the hermitage : it must be ravishing, the 
 hermit was such a strange, interesting person ! 
 
 Now the tiny rivulet sparkled in the midst of the 
 glen, and the great oaks stood sentinel around. The 
 lodge was newly thatched with green rushes from 
 the great lagoons : the floor had been levelled and 
 swept, and overlaid with Chinese matting. There 
 was Bordeaux wine, there were juicy melons, maize 
 cakes, and cigaritos. 
 
 No horses were admitted within the charmed circle 
 that day. They were left at the sheds below ; and 
 the ladies made the ascent leaning on the arms of 
 the caballeros. 
 
 Nita toiled up the ravine on the arm of Don Mar- 
 cos ; and Clem tripped gaily in front of them, es- 
 corted by Don Carlos. 
 
 The Senor Don Marcos, with Alberto's assistance, 
 had prescribed and mixed a pungent little dose, cal- 
 culated to relieve his cousin of the last symptom of 
 her heart- complaint. He was therefore pleased to be 
 gracious. ' Don Carlos es muy ccLbalUroJ he observed 
 
SUMMARY. 137 
 
 to the patient. And finding occasion to address 
 Carlo during the ascent, he invoked him familiarly 
 as ' Companero, or ' Amigo.' 
 
 And as they climbed, Carlo saw his amber cross, 
 that token to part with which had cost him sighs and 
 groans and tears, at the end of a dainty little chain 
 on Clem's bosom. His self-scorn kindled at the 
 sight. His heart, or something in its place, bounded 
 wildly. ' Gave it away to the first comer,' he 
 thought ; fool ! fool ! to pour one's self out in 
 weakness at such feet.' 
 
 And if Juanita had treated him with scorn on the 
 night of his first visit to San Pedro, he shared that 
 feeling with her now. He had been a fool, an ass, 
 an idiot ; so at least he said, and perhaps thought 
 that he meant it. 
 
 Mta, by-and-by, saw the cross there too, and 
 sickened at the sight, and called Julia aside and 
 directed her attention to it. But Julia said it was 
 1 another cross.' 
 
 ' I tell you it is mine,' said Nita, and thought de- 
 spairingly within herself, ' How shall I get me away 
 to a convent, and hide my head from these brazen 
 lies, and this hot burning shame ? ' And she hated 
 Don Marcos, hated Don Gruillermo, and as for Don 
 Carlos and Clem, her eyes withered at the sight of 
 them. What a heart was hers to take out of the 
 world and offer it alone to her Maker ! 
 
 Late that evening, when they were about to leave 
 the glade, William suddenly left Julia's side and 
 
138 THE AMULET. 
 
 ranged himself by Clem, while Carlo found himself 
 escorting the Dona Julia. 
 
 Somehow or other he could not feign in the pre- 
 sence of this young lady alone. His spirits nagged. 
 Beautiful and gentle as she was, he wished her ' any- 
 where.' He had no mind to be serious. 
 
 1 Forgive me, Don Carlos,' she said to him, ' I wish 
 to say something.' 
 
 4 The sound of your voice will heal the smart of 
 your words,' he said. l Say on.' 
 
 Julia. The cross ? 
 
 Here Julia's wrist felt Carlo's heart throbbing 
 furiously. 
 
 C. As you say, Senora ; the cross ? 
 
 Julia. Gave you it to the Senorita Inglesa ? 
 
 Carlo thought that Juanita had deceived her. He 
 burst into a loud harsh laugh ; and those in front 
 turned round to look, and those behind whispered, 
 ' Valga-me DiosJ for there was a strangeness about 
 the scene ; and the reputation of Don Carlos, though 
 brilliant, was shrouded in mystery. 
 
 They were picking their way down the narrow 
 defile. The sun had already set. Huge trees spread 
 their branches across the rocky way, shutting out 
 what little light there was above. Julia returned to 
 the charge : ' Answer me, Don Carlos, if you love the 
 truth.' 
 
 1 You trifle with me/ he said angrily. 
 
 She was not offended, but closed her other hand 
 round his arm, and leant more of her light weight 
 
SUMMARY. 139 
 
 upon him. 'There is some mystery,' she thought; 
 ' he is true.' 
 
 And by this little act of confidence Carlo was over- 
 come. He hurried on, so as to distance those behind. 
 ' Seiiorita,' he said softly, * I am not myself. I think 
 you can tell what it is to love with the whole heart. 
 I did it, and my heart is broken.' 
 
 She clung closer to his arm. ' Yet tell me what 
 you know about the cross, my friend.' 
 
 1 I cannot tell you. Ask HER.' 
 
 So the mystery remained unsolved. 
 
140 THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 A CAST FOR A LIFE. 
 
 And make the libbard sterne 
 
 Leave roaring, when in rage she for revenge did earne. 
 
 THE festivities which took place in the Glade of 
 Oaks, on the last day of gathering the maize, 
 were succeeded by a long, sultry, solitary day, which 
 Carlo whiled away in the harmless but monotonous 
 pastime of shooting crows. 
 
 Those marauders eyed, from the neighbouring 
 oaks, the glittering piles of maize, eyed askance the 
 watchful sentry, and occasionally told off a foraging 
 party to make a descent on some outlying stores. 
 These detachments suffered severely in killed and 
 wounded, while the survivors made but little im- 
 pression on Carlo's commissariat. 
 
 The surface of Carlo's mind was altogether occu- 
 pied with repelling these attacks, and inflicting these 
 losses ; but in its depths lay the emptiness of an 
 abiding loss, and the wreck of an assault that had 
 laid the citadel in ashes. 
 
 When the sun had set, and the crows had retired 
 to roost, Carlo piled wood on the fire, less for warmth 
 
A CAST FOE A LIFE. 141 
 
 than company, drew a bottle of cool Bordeaux out 
 of the stream (it was a relic of yesterday's fete), 
 poured half of it into his pannikin, and drank. 
 
 1 Love is gone,' he mused, 'but something worse is 
 left. I will not keep it. It shall all go together ; 
 so help me One who is stronger than I ! 
 
 ' Yet she is terribly beautiful. All night she 
 stands before me, soulless, yet warm and life-like. 
 All day she dogs my footsteps. She meets me at 
 every turn. She kneels before me in the dark shed, 
 or sweeps her wanton curtsey in the dim corridor. 
 I will go and look at her once more. I will try to 
 forgive her ; and there an end. Have I not learnt 
 to suffer ? Fool that I was Nescius aurcefallacis.' 
 
 That evening there was an Indian festival in a 
 wood near the Rancheria of San Pedro. It was a 
 sort of harvest-home gathering, and its chief charac- 
 teristic was the lineal descendant of a war- dance, 
 but now performed in honour of Ceres. 
 
 Carlo led the piebald horse down the dark ravine. 
 He felt like a man going on a guilty errand : for he 
 was doing violence to his reason, which told him 
 either to avoid the cruel one altogether, or to brave 
 it out like a man, and continue to meet her face to 
 face, and learn to hear her voice and see her smile 
 unmoved. 
 
 ' Yet,' he thought, ' I should like to see her, un- 
 seen. She cannot be all herself before me. She 
 dreads me, and perchance hates me. I would see 
 her enjoying the present, and forgetting what is past ; 
 
142 THE AMULET. 
 
 so I, too, might learn to forget. Only fancy her de- 
 ceiving Julia about the cross. I give it to the Seno- 
 rita Inglesa \ Ha ! ha !' 
 
 And again Carlo shouted the loud harsh laugh. 
 The horse drew back in alarm. This was not its 
 master's voice. Carlo patted its neck, and led on 
 over the spot where Julia had asked him that cruel 
 question. Then he continued in a bantering tone, 
 but with caresses, ' Wilt do the like, pinto mio, that 
 knowest all my humours ? Wilt take another lord 
 and master, and revile the old, pinto mudable, change- 
 ful particoloured horse ?' 
 
 And, having now reached the valley, Carlo leapt 
 into the saddle ; and the good horse, pleased at so 
 much confidence, tossed its proud head, and would 
 have lashed Carlo's legs with its tail, in ecstasy ; but 
 that member was of the order denominated 'rat,' 
 and had not been endowed with superfluous plu- 
 mage. 
 
 As they rushed past the boundary lodge, Cristobal 
 shouted ' Senor ! Senor Don Carlos !' But he spurred 
 on, deaf to entreaty, till the boundary was far be- 
 hind, and the great house in view. 
 
 Then he turned out of the beaten track, and 
 followed a path which wound among the trees. 
 Before him the glimmer of distant fires flashed 
 among the hoary stems. Presently a glade ap- 
 peared. At one end a rim of dark figures, flecked 
 with gaudy tints, encircled fires, above which rose a 
 tall pole crowned with a sheaf of maize. At the 
 other end were the party of Don Jose. 
 
A CAST FOE A LIFE. 14-3 
 
 A low hum encircled the glade, swelled into a loud 
 murmur, which rose and fell, came nearer, and died 
 off in the distance, with a mysterious effect, for the 
 singers were concealed in the woods. At certain 
 points in the choric song, the whole circle round the 
 fires, the old men, the women, and children, burst 
 out with ' Avooo voo,' a grand diapason. 
 
 Then came the dancers, flying over the dark rim 
 of seated figures, leaping and pirouetting among the 
 fires and round the trophy, with extravagant ges- 
 tures, while an outer circle hovered round the 
 sitters, and fluttered in and out among the trees, till 
 the stately forest oaks seemed to reel and stagger in 
 the fitful light. 
 
 A pause ensued. The gay party drew nearer to 
 see the pipe go round, and to hear the strange people 
 making merry ; but Julia and Juanita remained 
 where they were. 
 
 Juanita' s eyes became fascinated by something she 
 saw, or thought she saw, in the dark grove. First a 
 pair of eyes fixed on hers ; then, as her sight grew 
 accustomed to the darkness, the figure of a man on 
 horseback, rapt and motionless. Julia's eyes fol- 
 lowed hers, and saw the same vision. It was Don 
 Carlos his ghost, on a ghostly horse. 
 
 ' I have killed the man I love,' thought Juanita ; 
 and in presence of that solemn ghost pride for- 
 sook her, mistrust forsook her ; tears streamed down 
 her face ; she stood weeping, with clasped hands, as 
 who should say, ' Thou wert true. See the truth to 
 
14-4? TEE AMULET. 
 
 which mortal eyes were blind. I loved thee. All 
 else was'nought.' 
 
 But, in truth, it was Don Carlos in the flesh ; 
 neither did he move at all until figures coming be- 
 tween hid her from his sight, until the choral mur- 
 mur and the dance began again, and he could retire 
 without the sound of his horse's feet among the 
 twigs and acorns being heard. 
 
 After Tn'm, as he went, there glided a dark shadow, 
 stooping and turning as though it feared detection. 
 It was La Forina, Carlo's quondam nurse and con- 
 fidante. 
 
 ' What is it, mother ?' he asked. 
 
 L. F. Speak low. You love her still ? 
 
 C. Yes. 
 
 L. F. Her heart is breaking. 
 
 C. What can I do ? 
 
 L. F. Tell her of your love. 
 
 C. It must not be. I will go and die. 
 
 The other looked at him, as if she would search 
 out some wild corner of his brain. Carlo stooped 
 towards her. 
 
 ' Dost fear death ?' she whispered. 
 
 C. No, good mother. 
 
 L. F. Wilt seek the lioness in her lair ? 
 
 C. Ay. 
 
 L. F. Go then. Domingo is on the trail. Cris- 
 tobal is ready. And hark ye, carillo the Senorita 
 wishes for a whelp. If thou comest again, bring 
 one in thy arms. 
 
A CAST FOE A LIFE. 145 
 
 Again the pinto vanished swiftly ; but La Forma 
 lingered, shadow-like, among the shadows. 
 
 At length the games were ended. Real night 
 came to Juanita silence, solitude, and sleep. Then 
 she dreamed of that apparition which she had seen 
 under the oak-trees ; but it appeared to stand out- 
 side the enclosure at Los Ojitos, waving her a last 
 farewell; and in her ears resounded the solemn 
 thunder of the ocean, as it had done that night when 
 her friend had ridden away. 
 
 Early in the morning La Forina came to her. A 
 red ear of maize lay on the little table in her room. 
 
 ' What is this ?' said the old woman, in scorn. 
 
 /. A red ear. 
 
 L. F. And why ? 
 
 J. I gathered it. 
 
 L. F. But why keep it ? 
 
 /. I cannot tell. 
 
 L. F. Dost want emblems of a new love ? Will 
 not the old suffice ? 
 
 /. Throw it away. I want no emblems, nor any 
 love. 
 
 L. F. Not if the old be true ? 
 
 J. It is too late. 
 
 L. F. And honourable ? 
 
 J. You speak the truth. 
 
 L. F. It may not be too late yet. 
 
 J". How ? too late ? too late ? 
 
 L. F. He may return. 
 
 /. From whence ? Speak. 
 L 
 
146 THE AMULET. 
 
 L. F. Ay, let me speak. Thou wouldst have 
 proofs of love wishedst for the whelp of a lioness. 
 Don Carlos is in the mountain on thy quest ; one 
 from which men sometimes do not return. 
 
 La Forina had been opening the door in the mean- 
 while, and now slipped out, leaving Juanita quaking 
 with fear, not unmixed with pleasure. This was 
 some tangible danger, not the nameless dread of 
 last night. Now the vision of Don Carlos comforted 
 her. His spirit was watching her ; she had clothed 
 it with his form, and had even figured to herself the 
 faithful horse. He would not perish. Our Lady 
 gave him so much grace. And she turned her face 
 to the pillow, and prayed with all her strength to 
 nuestra Senom de los Remedies. 
 
 On the former evening, while the rooks were going 
 to roost on their watch-towers round the Glade of 
 Oaks, and Carlo was saddling the pinto, that he 
 might go and take a last look at Juanita, a lioness * 
 was ranging in search of prey for her cubs ; a splen- 
 did beast, swift, strong, and crafty. To the keen 
 ears came, amongst other sounds, the distant sound 
 of Carlo's pigs. When Thomasito brought his 
 charge home, one was missing. The theft was at 
 first attributed to coyotes ; but no trace of blood 
 could be found near the ford ;f the squeaking which 
 they had heard a while ago must have misled them. 
 
 * In Spanish 'leona,' the female Puma, 
 f Coyotes devour their prey at once. 
 
A CAST FOR A LIFE. 14-7 
 
 At this moment a certain mongrel, named Do- 
 mingo, lifted up his voice, and uttered a dismal 
 howl, leered round at his master, wagged his tail, 
 and walked into the running water. Finding nothing 
 there, he swam across, worked up and down the bank, 
 hit the trail, gave tongue again, went along a few 
 yards, and then stood still, howling piteously, with 
 outstretched neck and tail. 
 
 Cristobal, being on foot, would have recalled the 
 dog 
 
 ' Domingo ! Domingo ! ' 
 
 ' You-ou-ou-ou ! Youyou ! You-ou-ou-ou ! ' was all 
 the answer he could get. So he returned to the 
 lodge, where Angela and La Forma were in conclave, 
 and told them of Domingo's strange behaviour. 
 
 The wary old woman mounted her mule, crossed 
 the ford, and examined the trail. It was that of a 
 lioness. The male will not hunt till night ; the dam 
 only when foraging for her young. Its lair must be 
 far distant ; the choice of a pig instead of a colt or 
 calf showed that. 
 
 Just then Don Carlos rushed past at fall speed. 
 Cristobal, as we read, hailed him in vain. But now 
 La Forina would go on and send him back. In the 
 meantime, Cristobal could ride to the Grlade of Oaks, 
 and bring the good rifle which had killed El Yanque, 
 and could load his short brass gun, and see that the 
 flint was clean and sharp ; they should also prepare 
 a sumpter-mule with the great saddle-bags ; for Don 
 Carlos would kill the lioness and bring home the cubs. 
 
 L2 
 
148 THE AMULET. 
 
 Poor Angela sat and trembled. Of all names 
 since the death of Yankee Jim, la leona sounded 
 most terrible in her ears. She thought an evil spirit 
 had assumed the form of La Forina, and come to lure 
 her 'ombre to destruction. 
 
 As the old woman was taking her departure, she 
 beckoned Cristobal 
 
 ' What horse wilt ride ?' she asked. 
 
 ' El Negro, the horse of El Yanque; 'twill not 
 swerve.' 
 
 1 Bueno ; and if the trail be warm, wait till day- 
 light. Fail not.' 
 
 Cristobal went and made ready ; that is, he 
 brought the good Kentucky from the Glade of Oaks, 
 he fed the great black horse on barley, saddled a 
 sumpter-mule, examined the flint and priming of his 
 gun ; but, more particularly, with true vaquero in- 
 stinct, he prepared his stoutest saddle-girth, eight 
 inches broad, of forty horse-hair twists he strained 
 and oiled his longest lasso, fitted for a cast of twenty 
 yards, and put a keener edge to the long cucliillo. 
 
 These things Cristobal did by the pale starlight, 
 and by the rising moon ; but La Forina reached Don 
 Pedro, found Don Carlos in the forest, and sent him 
 off on the perilous quest, as we have seen ; so that 
 he arrived at the ford just as Cristobal's prepara- 
 tions were complete. 
 
 It was now late. The moon was up. Domingo 
 lay whining dolorously ; for the puma had nigh three 
 hours' start, and the scent was growing cold. 
 
A CAST FOB A LIFE. 14-9 
 
 But Don Carlos arrived in high glee. To a brain 
 racked with emotion, the prospect of excitement, of 
 danger, was intoxicating. He laughed at Angela's 
 rueful countenance. ' Shalt have a leoncillo, too, my 
 pretty Angela, fear not.' 
 
 The jingling of their spurs and the murmur of 
 their voices died away. And another woman lay at 
 home praying for the absent. 
 
 The pedigree of Domingo was complex ; his dam 
 being a Cuban bloodhound, his sire a mongrel Cali- 
 fornian greyhound. Malgre the bend sinister, he 
 was a true dog, both of nose and eye. No sooner 
 did the horsemen come across the ford than he took 
 up the trail eagerly. It led them a league across 
 the plain, then swept to the north-west, skirting the 
 estate of San Pedro and the mountains for three 
 leagues more. 
 
 In the pass of San Lorenzo the ground became 
 rocky and uneven. Now they were in a large valley, 
 which appeared to be a basin in the surrounding 
 wall of rock, only cleft and traversed by the channel 
 of a mountain stream. Huge boulders lay disorderly 
 about the level, and round their bases sand and 
 gravel, drifted by the torrent, which, during the 
 rains, would overflow its narrow bed. 
 
 Here the scent failed. Domingo cast about in 
 vain, now lost behind a boulder, now flitting across 
 an open space, at length coming back to its master, 
 baffled and weary. They debated what should be 
 done. Cristobal thought the beast must have 
 
150 THE AMULET. 
 
 doubled down the watercourse and regained the 
 plain. Carlo dismounted : here and there were 
 little banks of smooth sand, among which the now 
 meagre rivulet wound its way ; and clear shallow 
 pools occurred at intervals ; he examined these as 
 they glistened in the bright moonlight, but could 
 find no trace. 
 
 As they stood in consultation, a deep bay from 
 behind made them start. Carlo sprang into his 
 saddle. Again it came from a dark corner of the 
 glen, followed by a mighty roar, at which the pinto 
 trembled, and angry echoes went rolling up the pass. 
 Dismounting again, Carlo unslung his rifle, and ad- 
 vanced. Cristobal remembered the words of La 
 Forina, ' Wait till daylight ;' but now it was too 
 late, so he followed, on the black horse. 
 
 ' Keep back a little,' Carlo said ; ' be ready for a 
 cast when she springs. Is the hand steady ? One 
 look back as he spoke, a cheery look of confidence. 
 Cristobal threw the brass carbine on the sand, shook 
 the coils of his lasso loosely in the left hand, and 
 poised the noose with his right. Carlo turned, 
 picked up the carbine, and advanced again. 
 
 The position from which he wished to draw the 
 foe was a natural chasm in the side of the mountain, 
 defended in front by a cluster of rocks, and lying 
 within a dark line of shadow. He moved quickly 
 forward to the edge of the shadow, and called 
 ' Domingo ! ' The dog was among the rocks, twenty 
 yards in front, and answered with a friendly howl, 
 but did not retire. 
 
A CAST FOE A LIFE. 151 
 
 Carlo sat down, and gazed intently. After a few 
 seconds the dark surface of a rock seemed to move ; 
 then came a stifled cry, and, instead of the hind legs 
 and tail of Domingo, Carlo saw the glare of two green 
 eyes and the grinning of white tusks, so he called 
 aloud, ' Are you ready ? ' raised the rifle on to his 
 knee slowly, steadied the silver sight between the two 
 green eyes, and drew the trigger. 
 
 The hammer came down with a hollow sound on 
 the damp cap. With dismay Cristobal saw him lay 
 the rifle down, and stand bolt upright, taking aim 
 with the brass carbine, but retreating slowly, step for 
 step, as the enemy advanced. 
 
 Cristobal sat like a rock on the great black horse. 
 ' Keep your eye on her,' the other said ; ' my trust is 
 in you. As soon as she staggers, make your cast.' 
 
 The puma's tawny mass was now half in shadow, 
 half in moonlight, moving stealthily, with crouching 
 form and restless tail. Fire and smoke burst from 
 the brass mouth of the carbine, and a roar of fury 
 answered to its bark. 
 
 Firm and dauntless stood the black horse. Cristobal 
 poised his noose aloft ; and even while the growl was 
 dying on the puma's angry lips, and her strong back 
 arching for a spring, the fatal coil was drawn tightly 
 round her throat, and she felt herself dragged irre- 
 sistibly from her course. For Cristobal, having made 
 his cast, wheeled about, dashed his spurs into El 
 Negro, and the horse was tugging at its load. 
 
 Carlo's heart leapt within him. ' Straight, straight,' 
 
152 THE AMULET. 
 
 tie shouted, ' from the chasm, as yon love your life ; ' 
 for the puma was holding back with might and main; 
 but if Cristobal had worked round towards her 
 stronghold, she would have let the lasso slacken, and 
 sprung upon him in an instant. 
 
 Then Carlo turned, picked up his rifle, put on 
 another cap, and ran after them. The struggle was 
 a fierce one. They had not dragged the puma far 
 when Carlo came close upon her left flank. Again 
 he shouted, ' Let go your lasso, and wheel round to 
 the left.' Cristobal's thigh was nearly bursting with 
 the strain across it. He obeyed at once. 
 
 The infuriated beast turned too, and found itself 
 face to face with Carlo calm and cool was the latter, 
 mad with rage the former. 
 
 Once more she gathered her mighty force together 
 for a spring, lashing her flanks with angry tail, and 
 uttering a low, deep growl ; but right through her 
 brain sped the messenger of death ; a darkness fell 
 upon her ; down she lay, gasping helplessly ; and 
 a purple stream of blood gushed from between her 
 glazing eyes. 
 
 Cristobal, hearing the report of the rifle, wheeled 
 again, and, seeing what had happened, dismounted, 
 crossing himself piously, and muttering a prayer of 
 thanks. 
 
 As these two stood over the quivering carcase, 
 their hearts warmed within them. Carlo extended 
 his hand, across the body, to Cristobal, and wrung 
 the other's with a nervous grip, saying in an unknown 
 tongue, ' God bless you, my hearty ! ' 
 
A CAST FOE A LIFE. 153 
 
 Life is always sweet ; as those who have risked it 
 on a percussion cap, or the cast of a lasso, or a die, 
 can attest ; and well Carlo knew that but for a tight 
 collar which encircled the puma's neck at a critical 
 moment, the Fray Don Antonio would have had to 
 bury the bare bones of a heretic in the sacred pre- 
 cincts of Saint Michael. 
 
t 
 154- THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 QUEST AND BEQUEST. 
 
 WE left Juanita lying in bed, and praying to Our 
 Lady of Succour for Carlo's safety. She was 
 startled from this exercise by the thunder of a Chinese 
 gong. It boomed through the 'long-sounding cor- 
 ridors ;' it wailed and moaned in distant chambers; it 
 throbbed and palpitated in Juanita' s heart. Was it 
 his death-note ? ' No, no ! Pity ! Succour ! Madre 
 de Dios ! ' And again she prayed, and forgot that the 
 chocolate was waxing cold, and Don Marcos wrathful. 
 
 For that day was the high day of some obscure 
 saint whom Don Marcos delighted to honour ; and he, 
 with his compadre Don Alberto, was about to escort 
 a party of ladies to the mission of San Miguel, that 
 they might avail themselves of certain spiritual privi- 
 leges at that shrine. 
 
 Then came Clem, to rouse the loiterer, whom she 
 found praying instead of sleeping. Juanita said to 
 her, ' Tell Don Marcos I cannot go. I am tired, sick, 
 faint. And come here, mi hermana.' So Clem came 
 near, and Nita twined a little dimity- clad arm round 
 her neck, and kissed her once, twice, thrice ; then 
 took the amber cross which still hung on Clem's 
 
QUEST AND BEQUEST. \55 
 
 bosom, and kissed that too, and looked so prettily at 
 Clem, and said, ' It is well. I have forgiven him. 
 Wilt stay with thy little sister to-day ?' So Clem 
 performed the appropriate osculations, and said she 
 would stay too : what did she care about Saint Blank? 
 
 And she ran away to tell Don Marcos that La 
 Nina was faint, and would stay and pray at home, 
 and she with her : that they should both be ready to 
 dance and sing in the evening, at the festivities which 
 Don Jose was preparing at home. 
 
 Clem was puzzled at Juanita's interest in the amber 
 cross, which bijou Clem had found, neatly folded in 
 tissue paper, on the table in her room. It was ac- 
 companied by a card, on which was written her name, 
 subscribed by the initials J. J. Having admired a 
 similar ornament worn by Dona Juana, she concluded 
 that her host, the Senor Don Jose Joaquin de 
 Buenaventura, had adopted this delicate method of 
 presenting her with a souvenir. 
 
 However, few people object to a little mystery of 
 this sort ; so Clem delivered her message, whereat 
 Don Marcos sighed, ' ab imo pectore,' applied the 
 palm of his left hand to the white bosom of his shirt, 
 and assured the Senorita that, since she stayed with 
 his cousin, there would be no occasion to divide the 
 seat of his affections ; he would leave it entirely in 
 their hands. But Barbara said he had an otre corazon 
 in his saddle-bags, which he would offer her before 
 they reached ' El Salado.' So the devotees went their 
 way. 
 
]56 THE AMULET. 
 
 Then the guera Inglesa took tepid chocolate 
 upstairs to the guera Espanola, and they became 
 very fond of each other, though their intercourse 
 for the last two or three days had not been cor- 
 dial. 
 
 ' Dost think that he is killed ? ' asked the latter, 
 sipping her chocolate. 
 
 * Killed ? ' reiterated Clem, in amaze. 
 Nita. Knowest that he is in the mountain ? 
 Clem. Mountain ? 
 
 Nita. On my quest. 
 
 Clem. Thy quest ? 
 
 Nita. Un leoncillo ! 
 
 ' But who is it, dear ? ' said Clem, stroking her 
 dishevelled locks. 
 
 'Don Carlos. He loves me.' And again Nita 
 kissed the amber relic piously, and looked enquiringly 
 at Clem. But the latter was impervious. She had 
 no liaison with Don Carlos. On the contrary, she 
 began to think Juanita a desperate little flirt. 
 
 'But, little sister,' she said, reproachfully, 'I 
 thought Don Marcos loved you.' 
 
 ' Don Marcos is rich. He loves himself. I love 
 the poor Ingles. I have loved him all my life ; that 
 is, for six long, long months.' 
 
 Then Clem, seeing she was in earnest, again stroked 
 her hair and kissed her forehead, and said softly, ' I 
 am so glad. Dost really love him ? ' 
 
 ' With heart and soul.' 
 
 * Then listen. He has sixty thousand paistres : 
 
Q VEST AND BEQUEST. 157 
 
 at least, papa has them for him. Be true to your own 
 heart, and let Don Marcos go.' 
 
 At this moment the clear ringing voice of Don 
 Jose came to them 
 
 ' Muchachas ! muchachas ! ' 
 
 ' Tio,' squeaked Mta, shrilly, ' ven aca, ven aca ! ' 
 
 The soft firm tread came up the cedar stairs, along 
 the corridor, nearer, nearer ; the door flew open : 
 there was a tableau vivant ! 
 
 The Senor Don Jose at the door, radiant, with a 
 fulvous little puma in his arms ; Nita sitting up in 
 bed, shrouded with tawny locks, but stretching out 
 her arms, and shrilling ' YDon Carlos ? Carlos ? Di, 
 tio, di ! and pretty Clem, in a blue riding habit, and 
 her bright hair wreathed round her head like a 
 diadem. 
 
 Don Carlos reposes in the Glade of Oaks. He has 
 killed una leona, muy grande, muy fiera. He is un- 
 hurt.' 
 
 ' Ave Maria ! ' 
 
 As the Senor said, so it was. In one corner of 
 Carlo's bower a hide was stretched, two feet above 
 the ground. There he lay asleep. The glade also 
 was reposing, after profitable labours. The forty 
 acres of barley had yielded eleven hundred bushels, 
 the forty acres of maize two thousand bushels, now 
 stored at the ' Casa Briggs ; ' for so the small house 
 in the valley had been named. 
 
 Now half the glade lay glimmering in the sun, 
 with dusty oat-stubble, amongst which a thousand 
 
158 1HE AMULET. 
 
 ground squirrels gleaned in peace ; the farther half 
 lay like a broad expanse of gold, traversed by a 
 winding thread of blue enamel, and necked on either 
 side with black spots of raven, rook, or clamorous 
 crow. 
 
 But William Briggs sat by 'his friend upon a 
 small tripod, such as women sit upon to milk cows. 
 There was a noontide stillness in the air ; hard by 
 the ringdove wooed in melancholy tones ; and far up 
 from among the cypress groves arose the wailing of 
 the widow-bird. 
 
 And William mused incoherently, * Gold, gold, 
 "thou ever young, fresh-loved, and delicate wooer" 
 of old gentlemen, " thou touch of hearts " paternal ! 
 Nita's papa will accept Carlo now. No more cawing 
 crows from morn till eve, and cackling frogs from 
 eve till morn. No more, no more. 
 
 ' The Casa Briggs is a mere hovel. We must add 
 a wing to it, and touch it up altogether ; and I can 
 be god-papa to the bairns as well as the adobes. 
 
 ' I hope Bernardo has imported those Sonorians, 
 women and all. We want more women and chil- 
 dren at this end of the valley. We must fence off a 
 dozen more acres for Cristobal and Angela, and get 
 some buck-wheat laid down, and give them some 
 more hands. 
 
 'If we weren't so far from market, I'd try my 
 hand at making butter. Churning would be famous 
 exercise ; and what a fortune a man might make out of 
 these cows, with butter at seventy- five cents a pound ! 
 
QUEST AND BEQUEST. 159 
 
 ' This glade has been a triumph. Was it Carlo 
 thought of it, or I ? At any rate, here it is ; and if 
 prices keep up, we shall have cleared fifteen hundred 
 dollars out of it this year, besides our seed-crop, and 
 food for man and beast. 
 
 ' Then there are the pigs and the vegetables ; 
 "some pungkins," as they say in the north.' 
 
 When Carlo awoke, and had rubbed his eyes, he 
 saw William thus tilting himself forward on the tri- 
 pod, and musing. ' Hullo, Will ! ' he observed, in- 
 genuously, ' I've been asleep. What are you doing 
 up here ? ' 
 
 W. B. Building. 
 
 C. Castles in the air ? 
 
 W. B. Guess again. 
 
 C. A new wing to the Casa Briggs ? 
 
 W. B. One to you. 
 
 G. I've hit it, then. And you're going to eh ? 
 
 W. B. [Stroking his beard.] To whom, pray ? 
 
 C. Why, to Julia, of course. Don't I know that 
 you're sweet in that quarter ? 
 
 W. B. Still there would be many things to con- 
 sider. 
 
 (7. What an old deliberator you are ! Haven't you 
 been going to and fro these four months ? And I 
 can see she is interested. Besides which, Miss Clem 
 told me so in confidence. Don't I keep a secret well, 
 eh? 
 
 W. B. You rattle like Marcos. If I were ' sweet ' 
 (as you are pleased to call it) on any particular lady, 
 
160 THE AMULET. 
 
 do you think I should ask Miss Clem to feel her 
 pulse ? But I have no intention of being ' sweet ;' so 
 compose yourself. 
 
 G. The sooner you change your intention the 
 better, old boy. Depend upon it, Miss Clem is 
 right ; and when you draw off, Julia will think we 
 are all alike, and that the love of a portionless girl 
 has no value for a man. 
 
 But William allowed the subject to drop there. 
 ' I'll just light a few sticks/ he said, ' and we'll have 
 a cup of tea.' Whereupon Carlo took a clean towel, 
 a flannel shirt, socks, a comb, and a tooth-brush, out 
 of an old meal-barrel, and retired to his Castalian 
 rivulet. 
 
 When he returned, William said, ' I am half angry 
 with you, Carlo. You ought to have taken me last 
 night. ' 
 
 0. I saw you enjoying yourself at the war- dance, 
 and 
 
 W. B. You saw me ? 
 
 C. Yes ; I was down there sneaking about on the 
 pinto. Shabby trick, wasn't it ? 
 
 W. B. Why didn't you come with us ? 
 
 C. I thought I'd have a look at a certain person 
 when she didn't know I was near. 
 
 W. B. And you saw ? 
 
 C. Her standing apart with Julia, weeping. 
 
 W. B. Did she see you ? 
 
 C. Yes ; thought I was a ghost. Half thought so my- 
 self. Her sadness took me up to the seventh heaven. 
 
QUEST AND REQUEST. 161 
 
 W. B. And what brought you down again ? 
 
 C. Good old Forina, and put me on this trail. 
 
 W. B. The old go-between ! 
 
 C. Not at all. As my medical adviser, she knew 
 that excitement was good for my nervous system. 
 
 W. B. And nearly lost you sixty thousand dollars. 
 
 C. How ? 
 
 W. B. Starchie got Lord Saltum's letter last night. 
 Old Brownlow left you 12,OOOZ., to be handed over 
 when the trustees should think proper. They 
 ' thought proper ' just six weeks ago. 
 
 Carlo was sitting on the meal-tub which contained 
 his wardrobe, drinking tea out of a large tin pannikin. 
 He winked over its edge at his friend, and observed, 
 'Catch an old crow with chaff.' 
 
 W. B. There's grain in it, I assure you ; 12,OOOZ. 
 
 And, looking steadily at William, Carlo saw that 
 he was in earnest. The future loomed before him, as 
 a great glorified mist. Then he felt a fire in his eye- 
 balls, passing down, as it were, to his heart, and 
 again downward till it reached the ground, but left 
 him sear and scathed. It was the anguish of the 
 past. 
 
 Putting down the mug, he pressed his hands on 
 his eyelids ; and in that moment of stillness there 
 came again the far-off cry of a widow-bird, bewailing 
 her lot in the forest gloom. ' Hang that bird ! ' he 
 said irreverently. 
 
 Then he rose up, and, with trembling fingers, be- 
 gan to caparison the pinto. First he put the saddle 
 
162 THE AMULET. 
 
 on too far back, then too far forward ; secondly, he 
 twisted the girth, and only fastened it with one strap ; 
 and finally he left the horse's black ear outside the 
 frontlet, and the white ear inside ; and so would have 
 scurried down the gorge, and galloped to San Pedro, 
 ''venire a terre* 
 
 But William made him don the short blue cha- 
 queta, and the calzoneras supported at the waist by 
 a crimson sash, as also the elegant deer-skin boots, 
 which were wont to lurk obliviously in the meal-tub ; 
 for was it not the feast of Saint Blank ? and were 
 not festivities going on at the mansion of Don Jose ? 
 
 ' Bother the clothes ! ' fumed poor Carlo. ' Do 
 come and lace up my boots, Will. I've got the 
 
 But lest the thread of our narrative should fail, we 
 must go back and pick up a stray filament. While 
 Nita was praying to Our Lady of Succour, and two 
 weary horsemen were wending homewards with a 
 laden mule, even while the sun was dissolving the 
 grey mists of night, two caballeros, walking in the 
 gardens at San Pedro, met. 
 
 One was restoring the tone of his mucous mem- 
 brane with a puff of fragrant Orinoco ; from the 
 nostrils of the other also issued wreaths of incense. 
 
 Don Jose. How goes it, my brother ? 
 
 Don Mo. Well. And thou ? 
 
 Don Jose. I was thinking of thee and thy pretty 
 child. 
 
QUEST AND BEQUEST. 163 
 
 Don Mo. Ah ! Don Marcos is a gallant youth, and 
 loves her well. 
 
 Now the Senor might not have shared Don Mari- 
 ano's enthusiasm on this subject. Indeed, when 
 speaking of the former Director Supremo, to men of 
 his own party, Don Jose would style him roundly 
 1 Indio ' and ' Heretico.' Now, however, he answered 
 courteously. v 
 
 ' Bah ! my brother. Don Marcos is young, gal- 
 lant, and rich ; but will not love thy flower past its 
 bloom. 'Twill wither on the hot plains of San Bias.' 
 
 Don Mo. How? 
 
 Don Jose. 'Twill languish for the shade of this 
 valley, and the hand of an English gardener. 
 
 Don Mo. How ? 
 
 Don Jose. The man hath a lighter hand than that 
 of Don Marcos. The soil is more genial. Let her be. 
 
 Don Mo. My only child ? 
 
 Don Jose. Will be ever near thee. 'Tis but a 
 ridge of salt [Las Salinas] between. Shalt have 
 other sons, ere yet a grey hair in thy head. 
 
 Don Mo. [Sadly.] No quiero los estrangeros. 
 
 Don Jose. Dost not love aliens ? It is well ; bufc 
 lovest the man that slew the slayer of thy son, that 
 loved thy child, and forbore "to speak. Wilt be out- 
 done in favours by an alien ? 
 
 Don Mo. Thou art persuasive, my brother ; stir- 
 ring the heart to maintain thy cause against itself. 
 
 Don Jose. Hast a large heart, Mariano ; close not 
 the better half. 
 
 M2 
 
164 THE AMULET. 
 
 Then a pause ensued, during which each puffed 
 away solemnly. But Don Jose rallied : ' Hast 
 wearied of thy wife, Mariano ? 
 
 Don Mo. [With a start of anger. ] Senor ? 
 
 Don Jose. Ah ! brother. Did my father, Don 
 Joaquin, love thee ? Did not thy wife choose thee ? 
 
 Don Mo. Ga-rrramba ! Sayest true. Let the girl 
 choose. 
 
 Don Jose. Thy hand, brother. 
 
 And they locked hands. Then the Senor Don 
 Jose, having conquered, proceeded to load his captive 
 with golden chains. 
 
 ' Knowest, my brother, that this poor Ingles in- 
 herits property ?' 
 
 Don Mo. I knew it not. 
 
 Don Jose. Sixty thousand piastres, or thereabouts. 
 
 Don Mo. Es nada I It is nothing ! 
 
 And he waved a lordly hand ; as one would say, 
 ' I have yielded ; such a trinket hath not bound me.' 
 
 Don Jose. Lord Saltum, the trustee of Don Carlos, 
 is hidalgo Ingles. 
 
 Don Mo. Es muy caballero, el povrecito ; no hay 
 dude. [The poor fellow is of gentle birth, no doubt.] 
 
 At this satisfactory concession, the gong admo- 
 nished them, in plaintive tones, that chocolate and 
 tortillas and the ladies awaited them. 
 
165 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 ELECTEIC SPARKS. 
 
 Quien media vez me ofendio, 
 Entera no ha de contar-la. 
 
 SUPPER was eaten at sunset. The comedor, or 
 banquet-hall, opened into the piazza, and so on 
 to the lawn, which occupied the quadrangle of the 
 house. 
 
 Across this quadrangle Chinese lanterns were sus- 
 pended on lines, high above the pear-trees and the 
 fountain, giving a festive and grotesque effect to a 
 scene otherwise familiar, and at other times illu- 
 mined by the moon and stars. 
 
 Don Marcos and his cavalcade had returned from 
 San Miguel. They had even attempted to bring the 
 Fray Don Antonio with them ; but that functionary 
 declined to leave his few sheep in the wilderness for 
 mere feasting and merry-making. 
 
 The party was to break up on the morrow. The 
 Senor Don Jose would accompany Don Silvestro and 
 his ladies to Monterey, thence to take steamer for 
 San Francisco ; the Senor Arianas would return to 
 Los Ojitos ; but Don Marcos, with Alberto and his 
 ladies, would go southwards to San Luiz. 
 
166 THE AM ULET. 
 
 Thus it happened that a tinge of sadness mixed 
 with their enjoyment, as the quaint glimmer of the 
 paper lamps mixed with the broad tints of sunset. 
 
 Music followed the repast. Again, and for the 
 last time, host and guests seated themselves at will 
 in the dim corridor, or lounged on the glossy boards. 
 The Dona Barbara, as she foretold, had taken posses- 
 sion of the otre corazon of Don Marcos ; but Carlo 
 stood dreamily by the side of Juanita, who sat on a 
 low settee by the side of Madre. The golden masses 
 of her hair were gathered behind the neck, and fell 
 down her back in two broad plaits, after the manner 
 of the country. Her frock was of simple white 
 muslin, as indeed were those of the other Senoritas, 
 and her little white hands were folded peacefully 
 over that terrible engine of warfare, a fan. She 
 looked very meek and penitent altogether, and Don 
 Marcos thought she was hatching some plot for 
 bringing him back to her feet ; whereas really her 
 thought ran thus : 
 
 ' The Senor Don Carlos, with sixty thousand 
 piastres, is a different person from the poor Carlito 
 of my foolish heart. Now he will return to his 
 native land, will this catallero. No le faltara otra 
 dama, another lady will receive him with open arms. 
 He will look back to his wild Ranchero life, and re- 
 member me kindly, may be, as a sister, or less. 
 Things are altered now. Methought 'twas a poor 
 gambusino, not a rich grandee.' 
 
 So Juanita resolved to think no more of her an 
 
ELECTEIC SPARKS. 157 
 
 cient love. Still she was going away to-morrow ; 
 lie would go to Inglaterra, and they should never 
 meet again. If he had stayed away unkindly , and 
 given away her little gage d' amour, had he not also 
 ridden into the dark wood at night, to gaze upon her 
 alone (did not La Foriiia tell her so ?), and then 
 ridden away to be killed by una leona muy fiera, 
 escondida, in the dark, among rocks ? and for what P 
 
 Under these circumstances she must be calm and 
 courteous, must let him see that she understood the" 
 nature of his kindness, and would not trespass on it 
 for the world. She must not seem sad at their 
 parting : for did she not wish to make him less sad 
 formerly, not less happy now ? Juanita was a young 
 lady of such inexorable Platonism. 
 
 Meanwhile her papa thrummed away on a broad 
 guitar, which three generations had handed down to 
 Don Jose. He sang a wild romance about a Moorish 
 knight who had killed, so the lady observed by way 
 of compliment, 
 
 mas Cristianos 
 
 Que tienes gotas de sangre 
 
 more Christians than he owned drops of blood. 
 
 Carlo heard the paternal strains, but heeded not. 
 The hidalgo's voice far off did seem to moan and rave, 
 and mingled with the fancied moaning of the distant 
 wave. He was conscious of one presence only, hers 
 who sat beside him, with head drooping beneath his 
 elbow, and palms folded in her lap. Light radiated 
 from her ; he stood in it, all beyond was dark. 
 
168 THE AMULET. 
 
 Dona Clem sang that lullaby which we have heard 
 on a previous occasion. Don Gruillermo accompanied 
 her on the guitar. It was Clem's own music. Don 
 Jose was enchanted. When the lady came to that 
 affecting climax 
 
 While I weep, love, sleep, 
 In ray fond arms prest, 
 LulTd in my bosom to rest ! 
 
 'Juanita dropped her fan. 
 
 Don Carlos stooped, and gave it to her. Their 
 eyes met. Hers said, ' Is sadness then the heart of 
 joy ?' His said, ' I hear no song. Thou fillest every 
 sense.' 
 
 A conversation ensued on the relative merits of 
 the old bards and the lyric poets of the golden age, 
 ' El siglo de oro.' It was maintained that the rude 
 simplicity of the Romanceros spoke best the heart 
 and sense of a Ranchero, though the classic writers 
 might be more adapted for town-spun fancies. 
 
 ' But there are gems on the threshold of the golden 
 age,' urged Don Jose, ' sprinkled there by graceful 
 hands, ere yet the hearts of men grew cold and 
 formal.' Then turning to Juanita, he said, ' Sing 
 thy cancioncito, little one.' And he swept the chords, 
 while Juanita simply sang as follows : 
 
 Are tears of any profit 
 
 By night or day ? 
 
 When love hath passed away 
 From sight, is aught left of it ? 
 
 Say, sister, say. 
 
ELECTEIC SPARKS. 169 
 
 Is love which passeth kinder 
 
 Than grief which stays ? 
 
 Thro' lone nights and long days 
 Sorrow hath nought to bind her, 
 
 Yet sadly stays. 
 
 Ah, tell me, sister ; truly 
 
 Is sorrow kind ? 
 
 Doth she not sadly bind, 
 That, coming, love may duly 
 
 Due welcome find ? 
 
 It is not the custom in those regions to thank 
 ladies for singing. Birds warble gladly enough to 
 whom nature has given a voice. Yet Don Jose said, 
 4 Thanks, little one. Hast the soul of ruisenor * in 
 thy white breast.' And Don Carlos said nothing, 
 but likened her in thought to Saint Cecilia, kneeling 
 4 near gilded organ- pipes,' and to Spenser's fair 
 Saint, at her ' heavenlie virginals.' 
 
 His humour was broken in upon by an abrupt 
 change in the proceedings. A small platform raised 
 in the HJstrado was now occupied by three swarthy 
 musicians, one armed with a violin, another with a 
 wheezy wind instrument yclept caramillo, another 
 with the Chinese gong severely muffled for the occa- 
 sion, and doing duty for a drum. They were rein- 
 forced by one or other of the gentlemen, who would 
 take a guitar, and a post of observation near the 
 glass doors, or against a pillar in the balcony. 
 
 They struck up a mazurka. Saints defend us ! 
 
 * The nightingale. 
 
]70 THE AMULET. 
 
 What a strain, in that dim religious light ! wax 
 tapers twinkling within, variegated lamps without ; 
 and the silent summits of San Lorenzo standing 
 up among the starry heavens. A mazurka ! Proh 
 pudor ! To vex a saint at her heavenlie virginals 
 with such a pastime ! 
 
 Don Marcos advanced and made obeisance. The 
 magic light was dispelled. The saint rose, and a 
 blooming little maid, dropping a curtsey to Don 
 Carlos, fluttered away like a white moth in the em- 
 brace of a dragon-fly ; for the integuments of Don 
 Marcos glistened with bullion, and the long tails of 
 his purple sash whizzed round and round, as he spun 
 down the glimmering corridor. 
 
 Later on, a feeble attempt was made to introduce 
 the polka, * an unblest figure, in which one goes 
 trotando sin elegancia' Don Mariano, who was in- 
 valuable on the broad guitar, refused to assist in the 
 performance of such ridiculous music, and called for 
 the bolero ; but was induced to compromise in favour 
 of a ' valse a deux temps.' 
 
 Don Marcos still retained the hand of his cousin. 
 Was he not her kinsman ? and if Don Carlos had 
 wished for her hand, might he not have gone 
 through the simple ceremony of asking her ? 
 
 But Clem, having performed a mazurka with the 
 Senor Don Jose, came to Carlo, and said, ' Please, 
 Don Carlos, ask me to dance.' So he asked, she 
 consented, and away they went. But Carlo gyrated 
 furiously and silently, for Don Marcos seemed to be 
 
ELECTRIC SPAEKS. 171 
 
 buzzing about his brain like a gad-fly. His partner 
 wished to rest at one extremity of the piazza, so he 
 grimly offered her an arm to lean upon ; but she 
 clasped suppliant hands, and looked up into the sad 
 grey eyes with a smile, saying, * Please talk to me.' 
 
 Then he noticed how pretty and bright and kind 
 she was, and his blood upbraided him. 
 
 ' I beg your pardon, Miss Starchie,' he said, * do for- 
 give me for being such a Groth ; but I was out all night, 
 you know, and have had a terrible shock to- day.' 
 
 'A shock?' 
 
 ' Yes ; that about the money/ 
 
 ' A nice shock, was it not ?' 
 
 ' Well, you don't know how I'm situated.' 
 
 ' Please tell me.' 
 
 ' You're awfully kind, Miss Clem beg pardon 
 Miss Starchie, and I should above all things like 
 such a pretty confidante, but ' 
 
 '"But" and "above all things" above Julia 
 now, for instance ?' 
 
 Then Carlo fairly blushed, remembering that he 
 had poured out the bitterness of his heart to Julia, 
 in the dark ravine. 'Well, it looks like beating 
 about the bush,' he pleaded, ' doesn't it ?' 
 
 ' You told that pretty bush, Julia, that the bird 
 had flown, and you won't tell poor me anything ; but 
 I tell you, the bird is there alone, and waits for you 
 to come and rob the nest.' 
 
 And as though to deny her consolation, the 
 dragon-fly and the white moth fluttered towards 
 
172 THE AMULET. 
 
 them, spinning round on one pivot, and fluttered 
 away again ; and the gad-fly insinuated its probe 
 into Carlo's brain, and perhaps at the same moment 
 into Juanita's ; that is, if jealousy may be likened to 
 a gad-fly, and if a fly can be in two places at one 
 and the same time. 
 
 After that waltz, Don Alberto proceeded to sing 
 a seguidilla with his wife. This performance gave 
 universal satisfaction. Especially to a couple who 
 remained apart, and conversed in an under tone. 
 
 Nita. Remember you the squirrel, Don Carlos ? 
 
 C. Si, senora. 
 
 Nita. You gave it me. 
 
 C. You paid me with. a look. 
 
 Nita. I gave it not away. 
 
 C. No? 
 
 Nita. It died. 
 
 C. Poor squirrel, 'twas too happy. 
 
 Nita. [Ruefully.] 'Twas happier than I. 
 
 For she thought, 'He parries my thrust. Why 
 not confess that he gave her the little cross ? I was 
 unkind to him, and he gave it her in anger, no doubt.' 
 
 But Carlo thought to himself, ' She wants me to 
 understand, though I sent the cross back, and she 
 afterwards gave it away, that she kept and valued 
 my little present till death removed it.' 
 
 Again, after a pause, they conversed, she sitting 
 with downcast eyes, he still standing at her side. 
 
 C. The night is beautiful. 
 
 Nita. [With a sigh.] Nocheserena! 
 
ELECTRIC SPARKS. 173 
 
 0. If it could but last ! 
 
 Nita. How long ? 
 
 G. For ever. 
 
 Nita. You would give the moon and stars away. 
 
 C. To you. 
 
 Nita. No ; to another. 
 
 C. What other ? 
 
 * Clem,' she answered, with a little sob ; and her 
 breast heaved, and two large tears burst from the 
 fringes of her closed lids, and coursed rapidly down 
 her cheeks. 
 
 ' Forgive me, madonna,' he said, bending over her, 
 ' I meant not to pain thee. Let her take the moon 
 and stars ; but take thou my heart, and the long 
 night will be calm and bright.' 
 
 'Art forgiven, mi hermanol' she said, smiling 
 celestially. And at that moment Don Marcos came 
 up, smiling too, and claimed his little cousin for 
 another dance. 
 
 She went off, thinking to herself, 'He has con- 
 fessed "Forgive me," quoth he Art forgiven, 
 Carlito mio ! mi hermano, no mas. Te quiero, mi 
 liermano, carillo mio ! ' and so forth. 
 
 But Carlo fell a thinking. ' She doesn't like my 
 being so civil to Miss Clem. How is it ? 0, I see. 
 Both fair. Thinks I admire the type. Ha, ha ! 
 Never found out Clem was pretty at all till just 
 now. And couldn't tell for the life of me whether 
 her eyes are blue, black, or green.' [Those orbs 
 were in fact brown.] ' I'll go and ask Julia to 
 dance.' 
 
174? THE AMULET. 
 
 But finding that lady engaged, he indulged the 
 querulous humour, and stood scowling angrily at 
 Marcos, whenever that gallant passed his way. 
 ' Suppose after all she only likes me as a brother,' 
 he mused, * and that Marcos is, in reality, the objet ? 
 It looks like it, by Jove ! Curse the fellow ! with 
 his moustaches and his buttons.' 
 
 Now this unreasonable lover having neglected to 
 ask the young lady to dance, yet chose to consider 
 that Don Marcos, by dancing with her, was doing 
 him a personal injury. And revolving this little 
 grievance continually in his mind, he struck off 
 sparks of malevolence, which the other caught in 
 passing. 
 
 The exuberant moustache of Don Morcos bristled 
 wrathfully. ' Ca-mmba ! ' he growled, over Nita's 
 shining head, ' will this lion-hunter shoot me down 
 in the Puerto del Oso, and pounce upon my lamb with 
 the golden fleece ? ' 
 
 Then it occurred to him that Don Carlos had pro- 
 bably discovered the little stratagem which he and his 
 compadre Alberto had executed, with the help of that 
 unfortunate token, the amber cross. His inward 
 monitor said 'twas a foul trick. Alberto said all was 
 fair in love. 
 
 Fair or foul, if Don Carlos had sifted it, he was 
 an enemy ; and if so, one not to be lightly disposed of. 
 
 When the dance was ended, this train of thought 
 led Don Marcos through the Estrada into the 
 armoury of the Senor Don Jose. 
 
ELECTRIC SPARKS. 175 
 
 He rolled a cigarito, took the wax candle out of a 
 sconce, carried it round the walls, took down a blade 
 of Toledo, balanced it, executed a pass or two, swore 
 at it, and restored it to the stand ; found a curved 
 scimitar of Damascus, touched the ground lightly 
 with its point, and 
 
 ' No le hace, companeroj said the voice of one who 
 entered unobserved ; ' es muy Espadero el Inglescito' 
 And the husband of Dona Isabel communicated to 
 his friend a narrative concerning Don Carlos, which 
 he had received from his wife, who heard it from 
 Barbara, who had it from the lips of Clem, who 
 heard it from Annie Briggs, who had it from on dit 
 in Inglaterra years ago. 
 
 We cannot give ear to such vagrant report ; but 
 Don Marcos having done so, restored the scimitar 
 and examined the pistols with minute attention. 
 He looked at each one, balanced it, tried the lock, 
 swore at it, and finally pointed to his own heavy 
 revolver, which lay apart in a holster of embossed 
 leather, saying, ' Es mejor, Seis tiros. Fifteen 
 yards.' 
 
 Whereupon the Dona Isabel glided into the room 
 with lissome Barbara, and the moustache of Don 
 Marcos wreathed itself into a smile. 
 
176 THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 THE RETURN OF EL PINTO. 
 
 Do los mis amores, do los, 
 Do los andar6 a buscar? 
 
 NOW it happened that while Don Marcos was 
 inspecting the arsenal, Don Carlos, leaning sub- 
 missively against a pillar, was sustaining a rattle of 
 musketry from certain eyes which flashed fitfully 
 over the ramparts of Juanita's fan. 
 
 Idioma de amor, some people euphemistically term 
 that exercise. In a short narrative like the present, 
 I cannot find space to gloss over the fact that it is 
 ball-practice at short ranges. 
 
 ' What does it all mean ? ' enquired Carlo of Rea- 
 son, helplessly. But that respectable counsellor 
 having been placed liors de combat, was unable to 
 reply. 
 
 ' What a bewildering little siren it is ! ' mused the 
 helpless one. [The Saint, you see, had shrunk away 
 at the clang of arms.] 'If I were quite sure she 
 wanted to get rid of him, I'd wing that sublime 
 Marcos : 'tis a consummation devoutly to be wished.' 
 
 ' What does she mean by calling me hermano, and 
 
THE RETURN OF EL PINTO. 177 
 
 peppering a fellow like this ? ' [In allusion to the 
 musketry, possibly.] 
 
 And as far as combatant, under such galling fire, 
 may be said to be conscious of anything, Don Carlos 
 was aware of getting seriously worsted, and was 
 about to surrender at discretion. 
 
 Presently the firing ceased, and the fort hoisted a 
 signal. Glad of a respite, Don Carlos (to discard a 
 refractory metaphor) offered his arm to the Senorita, 
 and walked away into the silent night. They, too, 
 were silent for a while. 
 
 ' Inglaterra, is it beautiful ? ' the lady asked, at 
 length. 
 
 Carlo thought his island-home would be a dead 
 swamp without this * dulce enemiga.' 
 
 'Nature is more bountiful here,' he replied, am- 
 biguously. 
 
 ' Yet one loves the birthplace, the home of child- 
 hood,' she persisted. 
 
 * Can't say I do,' thought the other, but held his 
 peace. 
 
 Nita. [In a low silvery voice.] When shall you 
 return to Inglaterra ? 
 
 C. When thou wilt not suffer me to stay. 
 
 4 0, Senor Don Carlos ! ' she whispered reproach- 
 fully, and clasping his forearm with both her little 
 hands ; ' 0, mi hermano ! my brother.' 
 
 Footsteps drew near, accompanied by the susurrus 
 of moving muslin. They turned. Don Marcos, with 
 
178 THE AMULET. 
 
 Dona Barbara, confronted them, with sweet smiles 
 and mellifluous words. 
 
 Juanita blushed and quavered, like a rose in the 
 hot south wind ; but Carlo smiled grimly, still shoot- 
 ing out sparks of electricity, which sought the but- 
 tons of Don Marcos. 
 
 * I love not Don Marcos,' he said, as the pair with- 
 drew. 
 
 'Nor I,' she murmured, clinging to him timidly. 
 
 ' Say it again, madonna ! ' 
 
 ' I love him not, mi hermano ! ' 
 
 And so they returned, and met tio Don Jose walk- 
 ing and talking with padre Don Mariano. 
 
 Don Marcos was about to dance the bolero with 
 Dona Barbara ; so Nita entered with her papa and 
 uncle, but Don Carlos turned his back upon the 
 graceful dance, and walked apart among the pear- 
 trees, in the dappled lights and shadows, consuming 
 the solitary weed, and pondering in doubt. 
 
 * Hermano, hermano ; 'tis a pretty word, but I like 
 it not. Yet she loves not Marcos. I will draw the 
 bond closer. I will speak to Madre, to the Senor 
 Don Mariano, this very night, and then and 
 then ' 
 
 But beyond that point the mind of Don Carlos 
 refused to move. There he entered the realms of 
 imagination. On the confines of that enchanted 
 sphere rose the image of Juanita, warm and life-like ; 
 the winsome face framed in soft bands of golden hair; 
 the clear blue eye and eloquent lip. Or, when the 
 
THE RETURN OF EL PINTO. 179 
 
 eyelid closed, lie seemed to feel the music of her 
 voice, and see the smile between her parted lips. 
 Around a form divinely moulded the white muslin 
 draped itself in loving folds. He stretched forth his 
 arms, and groaned aloud, * 0, Nita ! thou must love 
 me. Not as a brother. 'Twere sin to love a sister 
 as I love thee.' 
 
 This outburst gave vent to suppressed feeling. 
 His brain began to clear. The image would fade 
 away. But no : strange to tell, it stood there still, in 
 the quaint light, leaning against a marble basin into 
 which the fountain spray was falling like a shower of 
 diamonds ! 
 
 ' Madonna ! Is it thou ? ' And he took her warm 
 hand ; for indeed it was Juanita herself. 
 
 C. Speak ! 
 
 1 AmigOy she answered softly, looking down. 
 
 C. Not hermano ? 
 
 Nita. Not if thou wilt not. 
 
 C. What did I say, dear ? 
 
 Nita. I know not. Didst speak in thy own tongue. 
 
 C. I love thee, sweet ; wilt trust me ? 
 
 Nita. I -trusted thee once. 
 
 C. Speakest the truth. 'Twas a new life. 
 
 [But the lady pouted her crimson lips.] 
 
 C. Pout not. Beg back the token and give it me 
 
 * the shameless one ! ' she thought ; but only 
 shook her head mournfully. 
 
 N2 
 
180 THE AMULET. 
 
 G. I loved thee. Was it not well to be silent ? 
 Look up. See if I nave not suffered. 
 
 And looking up, the lady saw indeed traces of a 
 silent struggle in the expression of his face. 
 
 C. But thou wilt not. "Pis too much to ask. 
 
 Hereupon the small hand, which lay in his, closed 
 round his fingers. 'Not that token,' she said; "tis 
 worthless now.' Then she let go his hand, unfast- 
 ened a little gold chain, and once more put a fetter 
 round Carlo's neck, saying, ' Wilt give it away ? ' 
 
 G. Never. 
 
 Nita. Nor lose it ? 
 
 G. Never. 
 
 Nita. So mayest ever keep my heart. 
 
 In a paroxysm of gratitude, the impetuous young 
 man clasped her round the waist with both arms, 
 and covered her face with kisses, disregarding her 
 blushes and frail efforts at escape. 
 
 ' Carlos ! sin-verguenza ! sin-verguenza ! ' she mur- 
 mured ; and as soon as he released her, ran away as 
 fast as her little red boots would carry her. 
 
 And, looking at the end of his fetter, Carlo found 
 there an amulet, in a case of violet-coloured silk, 
 which also contained a golden tress. 
 
 He was still in the land of enchantment. An eye 
 still watched him ; no longer the soft blue orb, but a 
 black lambent onyx, flashing out of a livid face, and 
 over the moustache of Apollyon. 
 
 The voice of Don Marcos also expressed intense 
 emotion. Carlo began to respect him. 
 
THE RETURN OF EL PINTO. 181 
 
 Marcos. Art a slayer of men, Don Carlos ? 
 C. I fight but with enemies, senor. 
 Marcos. Art my enemy. 
 C. An thou wilt. 
 
 Marcos. Nosotros, caballeros qui somos, meet face to 
 face, with equal weapons. 
 
 C. It is well, Don Marcos ; at break of day. 
 Marcos. It is well, senor ; hasta luego. 
 
 The night was far spent before the revellers re- 
 tired to rest. The Englishmen did not return to 
 Santa Perona : they occupied the first room in that 
 gallery where were the men's sleeping apartments ; 
 the room, in fact, next to that occupied by Julia and 
 Juanita. 
 
 After a couple of hours' sleep, Don Guillermo 
 turned restlessly on his bed. 'A grand thing sleep 
 is, -in a weary world,' he mused, looking across at his 
 friend. ' That calm sleeper has had a restless time 
 of it. I suppose he has made a land-fall at last. He 
 held on like a man when the wind was foul. Now 
 it's plain sailing ; a harbour as wide as the Golden 
 G-ate ; and voyons William Briggs as harbour- 
 master. Hullo ! more watchers abroad ! ' 
 
 Through a small window near William's bed came 
 a sound of ringing chords, sweet and plaintive, then 
 the deep rich baritone of Don Marcos. The tune 
 was monotonous yet impassioned ; the words ran as 
 follows : 
 
182 THE AMULET. 
 
 In the sad starlight, 
 
 Vigil I keep : 
 By the glad starlight, 
 
 Sweet my love, sleep I 
 Chill is the night, love, 
 
 Sad without thee ; 
 Hast thou in sleep, love, 
 
 One sigh for me ? 
 
 Soft are thy lips, love, 
 
 Sweet is thy breath ; 
 Hard is thy heart, love, 
 
 Bitter is death : 
 Yet sweet is bitter, 
 
 Bitter is sweet ; 
 Soft is death's litter, 
 
 Laid at thy feet. 
 
 In the sad dawning, 
 
 Vigil I keep, 
 All the glad morning, 
 
 Sweet my love, sleep I 
 Gather thy tresses 
 
 Of gold to thy breast : 
 Grey morning presses, 
 
 I haste to my rest. 
 
 Fold thine arms close, love ! 
 
 Sadly I wend, 
 Sighing for thee, love, 
 
 Unto my end. 
 Sighing for thee, love, 
 
 All the sad night ; 
 Dying for thee, love, 
 
 In the grey light. 
 
THE RETUEN OF EL PINTO. 183 
 
 * Dying for thee, love ! ' mused William. t What is 
 the man maundering about ? ' 
 
 Then turning to Carlo, and seeing that champion 
 still in a deep sleep, he continued, ' Nothing wrong in 
 that quarter at any rate.' 
 
 That there was something wrong in that quarter, 
 notwithstanding Carlo's peaceful slumbers, we know. 
 He has challenged Fate to decide between him and 
 an angry rival, this morning. He has no patent for 
 longevity. Let us leave him. 
 
 At early dawn the ladies assembled to discuss 
 chocolate, and the journey which awaited them. But 
 amongst them, gathering, E/umour went about whis- 
 pering strange tidings. Anon they swarmed out in 
 a body, with pale faces and throbbing breasts. 
 
 They heard a crash of arms in the valley. They 
 saw the Senor Don Jose vanishing in the mist on a 
 white horse ; Don Mariano and Don Silvestro stand- 
 ing awe- struck. 
 
 Presently there dashed into the midst of them a 
 small horse, which stood riderless, with red nos- 
 trils and heaving flanks. It was the barb of Don 
 Marcos. 
 
 Juanita's heart thundered in her ears. Horror 
 painted Carlo standing over the corpse of his rival, 
 with close lips and gleaming eyes. She hid a red 
 shameful face in burning hands, and counted the loud 
 pulsations of her heart. 
 
 Again the report of arms. Hush ! It came again, 
 
184- THE AMULET. 
 
 louder and more terrible still. Madre de Dios ! Conld 
 Juanita hear those sounds and live ? 
 
 A long pause ensued, an age of silent agony and 
 suspense ; then the tramp of horses and the ring of 
 spurs came swiftly up the valley. 
 
 A figure emerged from the mist : 'twas Alberto. 
 Another : Don Guillermo. A third, coming slowly 
 on the pinto. 
 
 Juanita' s eyes start from their sockets to meet 
 him. She knows the horse : she knows the Ah! 
 Jesu Cristo ! who is this ? 
 
 MARCOS ! 
 
 Then Carlo has fallen. 
 
 A terrible cry rang out of that fluttering crowd ; 
 a shriek of woe unutterable ; and Juanita fell down, 
 stark and stiff. 
 
 There she lay with livid face ; eyes open, but cold 
 and hard as stone ; lips white, frail body still and 
 lifeless. 
 
 ' Dead, dead ! ' they murmured, closing round, and 
 crossing themselves for fear. 
 
 Don Marcos stood up in his stirrups and saw this 
 picture. 
 
 * Valga-me Dios ! ' he groaned. ' Mi corazon ! mi 
 alma ! dead, dead ! ' 
 
185 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 A PASSAGE OF ARMS. 
 
 WHEN the serenade of Don Marcos ceased, and 
 Don Guillermo saw his friend still sleeping in 
 profound peace, lie concluded that the poet was about 
 to die in metaphor only : but the grey light which 
 precedes the dawn, and to which the musician had 
 alluded, literally supervened. 
 
 A stealthy tread came along the corridor, the door 
 opened, Alberto stood in the aperture. ' Quick, friend ! ' 
 he said, beckoning to William. 
 
 ' Wherefore ? ' asked the other simply. 
 
 Then Alberto drew near, and told William that his 
 friend had a rendezvous with Don Marcos, under the 
 great plane-tree, in the river hollow. They were to 
 meet at dawn. No time was to be lost. 
 
 As Alberto withdrew, William looked at his sleep- 
 ing comrade ; and loving the man, hated the folly of 
 his act. ' Fighting for a woman's heart ! As though 
 powder and blood could turn the scale one way or the 
 other ! Wrangling at the very edge of doom ! 'Tis a 
 godless act. I won't abet.' 
 
 1 Carlo ! ' he called softly. 
 
 * Hull-lo ! ' sighed the other. ' 0, Will, I've been 
 
186 THE AMULET. 
 
 having such a heavenly night, and now we've got to 
 turn out and smell that everlasting saltpetre.' 
 
 1 1 won't go, Carlo.' 
 
 4 By Jove, then, I'll go alone.' And Carlo jumped 
 out of bed and began dressing. William also dressed 
 silently. 
 
 When they were both ready, Carlo turned on his 
 friend : * Look here, old boy ; don't let a shade of 
 anger come between us two, when one may be step- 
 ping over " that bourn from which no traveller re- 
 turns." Marcos forced this quarrel on me, or rather 
 offered it, like a man. I couldn't back out. You 
 know what would have come of it. The man has bad 
 blood in him as well as good. 
 
 1 Don't think I'm trifling, Will. I'm doing what I 
 believe the least of two evils. This is a fair fight, in 
 an open field ; and I at least can stay my hand. I 
 rode to the lodge last night while you were otherwise 
 engaged, and made my arrangements. Cristobal is, 
 by this, under the sycamore with your long pistols 
 and the French powder. My last testament is here ' 
 [tapping his breast pocket], 'writ in plumbago.' 
 
 This was the longest speech Carlo had ever made. 
 A tear rose in his eye. He stretched out a hand to 
 William. The other took it, and said, ' I'll come with 
 you ; it might have been worse.' 
 
 ' Thanks, old friend.' 
 ' ' How about choice of weapons ? ' 
 
 4 Each shoot with our own.' 
 - ' And distance ? ' 
 
A PASSAGE OF ARMS. 187 
 
 * Left that for you to settle on the ground. You 
 know it matters little to me.' 
 
 Now, in fact, the distance was a matter of the 
 highest importance : for Don Marcos could use his 
 own revolver to perfection at fifteen yards, and with 
 either hand. So William, devoutly wishing that he 
 might put them farther apart, remained silent, not 
 caring to perplex Carlo with these minutiae. 
 
 1 You're not savage, are you ? ' asked William, after 
 a pause. 
 
 ' Not the least. I like the fellow now I know he's 
 in earnest.' 
 
 ' Do you think he means mischief ? ' 
 
 'Sure of it.' 
 
 As they went down stairs, William said, 'It's too 
 early for milk.' 
 
 ' Never mind, old boy ; I'm all right.' 
 
 ' A thimbleful of spirits ? ' 
 
 ' No : bad for the nerve, and makes the eye fishy. 
 I've tried it.' 
 
 But, passing the glass doors of the Estrado, Wil- 
 liam spied a large decanter of agua-'rdiente with a 
 silver cup at hand. ' That looks well for our side,' 
 he thought ; ' we will take ours by-and-by.' 
 
 They saddled their horses in haste, and mounted. 
 One pointed above the peak of San Lorenzo, where a 
 trembling star grew pale and wan before the coming 
 day. They rode at speed through the low misty 
 level, and found Alberto measuring out the ground. 
 
 Don Marcos chatted with Cristobal indifferently. 
 
188 THE AMULET. 
 
 Carlo saluted him. Marcos offered a cigarito and a 
 light. They smoked amicably, abused the cold fog, 
 voted it a nuisance having to get up so early in the 
 morning, revived light incidents of the past evening, 
 pronounced it to have been a noche serena, and re- 
 gretted the dissolution of such a charming party. 
 Had Don Carlos ever visited the Pueblo de los An- 
 geles ? No ? There were the vineyards and the 
 orange grove of the Senor Don Mariano, so fair, so 
 fruitful ! Don Marcos hoped that Don Carlos would 
 do him the honour to run down the coast in the 
 Yegua Negra. He should be cruising on the coast all 
 the autumn. Intended to stock the island of Santa 
 Cruz with sheep, from his estate of San Bias. Ca- 
 ramba ! How long Alberto was ! Time for another 
 cigarito. No ? ' Adios, Senor Don Carlos /' 
 
 1 Adios, caballero ! ' 
 
 In the meantime William and Alberto tossed for 
 choice of distance. Alberto won, and chose fifteen 
 yards. William gnawed at his beard. There was 
 yet a chance. 
 
 W. Fifteen yards is point-blank range with our 
 pistols. 
 
 Alberto. It matters not, senor. 
 
 W. I must warn you. Don Carlos hits a dollar 
 nine times in ten. 
 
 Alberto. Mil demonios ! Us verdad ? 
 
 W. Simple truth, Don Alberto, as you may see 
 presently. 
 
A PASSAGE OF ARMS. 189 
 
 Alberto placed his man nervously, and muttered in 
 his ear, ' Life or death, companero ; the saints guard 
 thee.' 
 
 Carlo threw aside his sombrero, and smiled as Wil- 
 liam ranged him ; but neither spoke a word. 
 
 Cristobal, apart with the horses, shuddered. 
 
 Thus they all stood, in the long, damp grass, and 
 round them hung a yellow mist, just smitten by the 
 rising sun. 
 
 ' Uno ! ' cried Alberto. Up went the two right 
 arms. 
 
 * Dos ! ' answered William. Each took aim. 
 
 4 Tres ! ' A double flash, a horrid din, and a quak- 
 ing of the mist. 
 
 Carlo felt a singing in his ear, as if a musquito had 
 flown into it. It was the whiz of a small bullet, 
 passing within the eighth of an inch. 
 
 Marcos felt a dull blow under the right shoulder ; 
 then a hot stream of blood pouring down his arm. 
 ' Quick, quick ! ' he grated out, shifting the pistol, 
 and turning his left shoulder to the front. 
 
 William called Alberto aside. 'We are satisfied,' 
 he said. ' Let the matter rest.' 
 
 ' Don Marcos is wounded : he demands another 
 shot.' 
 
 'I warn you,' urged William. But Alberto re- 
 turned to his principal, and William handed Carlo 
 the other English pistol in silence ; the latter still 
 smiling blandly. 
 
190 THE AMULET. 
 
 ' Uno ! ' 
 'Dos!' 
 
 1 Tres ! ' A single flash, a feebler din. 
 Again Carlo felt the singing, and a sharp twinge ; 
 for this time the bullet had passed through his hair 
 and barked his ear. 
 
 Then he raised his right arm, and fired the pistol 
 off in the air. The large bullet crashed among the 
 leaves and branches of the plane-tree ; and another 
 horseman emerged from the surrounding mist. It 
 was Don Jose, spurless, and on a white horse ; but 
 the barb of Don Marcos had fled at the first report. 
 
 Don Marcos advanced, holding out his left hand to 
 Carlo, with a gracious smile. ' The caballero has dis- 
 armed me,' he said ; I withdraw.' Then languishing, 
 he leant upon Alberto ; for the blood flowed swiftly 
 from his right arm, and he had been up, during the 
 calm cold night, with a tempest raging in his liver, 
 and fire in his brain. 
 
 The Senor Don Jose, with William's assistance, 
 swiftly severed the right sleeve of the cJiaqueta, and 
 drew it off the arm of Don Marcos, while Alberto 
 produced a case of balsam, lint, and plaster, where- 
 with they stanched the bleeding and bound the 
 wound. The hero was himself again. ' Pardon me, 
 senores,' he said; 'a little vertigo, nothing more.' 
 The deltoid muscle was severed. 
 
 Don Carlos insisted on his mounting the pinto. His 
 own horse had fled, and the pinto had paces so soft, 
 so undulatory. 
 
A PASSAGE OF ARMS. 191 
 
 The rest moved off the ground ; but Don Jose, 
 seeing a drop of blood fall on Carlo's shoulder, stayed 
 awhile, examined the scratch, and plastered it dain- 
 tily. So it happened that Don Marcos returned on 
 the pinto, and Carlo was numbered among the 
 missing. 
 
192 THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A WEARY VIGIL. 
 
 "We are such stuff 
 
 As dreams are made of: and our narrow life 
 Is rounded with a sleep. 
 
 THROM this rapid sketch of the passage of arms 
 J- under the sycamore, and of the return of el pinto, 
 it appears that, however chivalrous the practice of 
 duelling may be (as compared with certain other 
 modes of settling a difficulty which prevail in His- 
 pano- American society), it may yet be attended with 
 inconvenient results. 
 
 How is it that the ball of Don Marcos grazed the 
 acoustic, instead of entering the optic, organ of 
 Carlo ? that the ball of the latter severed the muscle, 
 instead of shattering the bone of his opponent's arm ? 
 Quien sabe ? 
 
 Again : harmless and amiable as it was of Don 
 Carlos to throw away his second shot, yet the crash 
 of that report increased the anguish of the innocent, 
 and went before the arrival of Don Marcos on the 
 pinto , sounding the alarm for such a heart- shock as 
 well-nigh drove one frail pilgrim across that bourn 
 which her lover had prepared to cross before her. 
 
A WEARY VIGIL. 193 
 
 Juanita was not, indeed, dead, but for many days 
 lay in a state of extreme debility and nervous tension. 
 Despite that venerable quack, La Forina, her father 
 had bled her freely while the fit lasted ; and, sooth to 
 say, the skill of the ranchero was mere horse-surgery. 
 He snatched her from the embrace of Death, and 
 nearly laid her in his arms again. 
 
 ' Vaya /' said the crone, in scorn ; ' hast slain thy 
 child.' 
 
 But the danger passed. The friends went their 
 way : Don Jose to his Senate, Don Silvestro to his 
 counting-house, Don Marcos to his yacht. Juanita 
 remained with her father, mother, and the Dona 
 Julia. 
 
 We will hasten over the intercourse of the invalid 
 and her lover during those latter days. Enough to 
 tell that Ms love strengthened with her strength ; 
 outgrew and overshadowed all the rest of his being. 
 It was not Platonic, not philosophical, nor sublime. 
 It struck no roots into the sky, but deep into earth, 
 the sweet, sensuous mother of us all. It was a tree 
 whose branches would sway in the storm, whose 
 foliage would rustle in the breeze. It would bud and 
 blossom in the genial spring. In its arms the birds 
 of melody would come and dwell. But it stood, as 
 things of earth must stand, under a gracious heaven, 
 waiting for the fructifying dews and rain and sun- 
 shine. 
 
 It happened, one day, that while Don Carlos leaned 
 o 
 
194- THE AMULET. 
 
 over the lady, performing some service, a small wooden 
 cross peered from the folds of his shirt. 
 
 ' Ah ! ' she exclaimed, fixing her dewy eyes upon 
 it, tenderly. 
 
 ' 'Tis a model,' he said, following her look. ' My 
 gross nature will have something to touch. See this 
 also.' And drawing it out farther, Juanita saw that 
 it was attached to that very cord which erst held the 
 amber cross. 
 
 ' Wear it no more/ she said, half in pleasure, half 
 in pain ; ' hast an amulet now. Hang the cross up 
 at home, and look at it when thou prayest.' 
 
 This was the nearest allusion to the old token 
 which passed between them. Juanita still thought 
 he had given it to another, and that she had forgiven 
 him. He still thought that Alberto had duly re- 
 turned it. 
 
 There was another subject on which he shrank 
 from communicating his thoughts. The Senor Don 
 Mariano, having consented that Don Carlos should 
 become a suitor for his child, still placed a gap of 
 six months between them. 'The caballero,' he 
 thought, ' having property and friends in his land, 
 may return thither, and forget the child. If so, 
 well ; if not, well : let him return. I go not. I am 
 in the Pueblo, or on my Bancho: my child is ever 
 with me.' 
 
 Nor was Carlo to write to her during the interval. 
 He pleaded with the Don energetically. At last a 
 concession was gained. He might write once. * Un 
 
A WEAEY VIGIL. 195 
 
 billete, no mas. Love dieth not within six moons. 
 Prove it, Senor Don Carlos. If it be love, 'twill live.' 
 
 Carlo's heart and reason cried out against this 
 cruelty; but he would not complain. It increased 
 his tenderness and devotion during the brief respite 
 caused by her weakness, and perhaps enhanced the 
 pleasure which he derived from an intercourse so soon 
 to cease. 
 
 Don Mariano was impatient to return to Los Ojitos, 
 for he had not long to remain there. His presence 
 was required in his little vineyards at Los Angeles. 
 Juanita was yet too weak to bear the motion of a 
 horse. She travelled in a litter by the side of Madre : 
 the Dona Julia on horseback with the hidalgo. Wil- 
 liam and Carlo accompanied them through the pass 
 El Salado, and as far as the mission of San Miguel. 
 Adios I adios I 
 
 On the second evening thereafter, the two English- 
 men sat in front of the Casa Briggs. 
 
 ' Cuan presto se va el placer how quickly pleasure 
 passes ! ' said the former. The quotation had been a 
 favourite one with them since Don Mariano had 
 punned upon their disaster with it. 
 
 G. Yet you had three or four months of it, Will, 
 and I had but a few days. 
 
 W. B. You would have finished the triplet,* for- 
 merly ; why not now ? 
 
 * Como despues de acordado 
 Da dolor ! 
 o 2 
 
196 THE AMULET. 
 
 C. Well, it does leave one unutterably sad. I 
 think the craving for that sort of pleasure is mor- 
 bid. 
 
 W. B. Adam, ' the grand old gardener,' was pro- 
 vided with a wife. 
 
 C. But our case is different. We are two ; tried 
 by each other, and not found wanting. 
 
 W. B. Still we remain two. A man and wife are 
 one/ 
 
 G. Then take a wife, and accomplish your unity. 
 What hinders ? 
 
 W. B. Shall I tell you, Carlo ? 
 
 C. Ram your guns, and fire away. 
 
 W. B. You saw us waltzing together, on the night 
 before your affair. 
 
 0. Rather. 
 
 W. B. Those were blessed moments ; before the 
 spell was broken. She floated round me, like a 
 zephyr, or the breath of flowers. ' How strong you 
 are ! ' she whispered ; ' you carry me in your arms. 
 Please to let my feet touch, sometimes.' But I could 
 have carried her so through the blissful night. 
 
 G. You'd have got terribly giddy, old fellow ; but 
 go on. 
 
 W. B. ' Do you think me strong ? ' I asked. 
 * Surely,' she answered. ' Do you ever, or may you 
 not hereafter, want a strong arm to lean upon ? ' 'I 
 seek none,' she objected. ' No, but hast found one,' 
 I urged : * the little Rancho is mine, health and 
 strength and a whole heart are mine ; and mine is 
 
A WEARY VIGIL. 197 
 
 thine : wilt be my wife, Julia ? ' We were standing 
 in the quiet moonlight, away from the foolish lamps 
 and noise. I saw her tremble for a moment, like a 
 ripple passing over the surface of smooth water. 
 Then she smiled in that half-melancholy way of hers, 
 and said quietly, * For all this I thank you, senor, 
 but cannot accept it. Let us return.' And we re- 
 turned hand in arm to the HJstrado, as if nothing had 
 happened. 
 
 C. Tell me again what she said. 
 
 And William told him, in Spanish. 
 
 C. ' Can not,' mark you, not ' will not.' 
 
 W. B. A will and a way, Carlo. 
 
 0. Not always. The girl loves you, I'll be sworn. 
 But tell me, did you raise the siege ? 
 
 W. B. Not precisely. I still hovered about. In- 
 deed, I thought her more beautiful then than ever. 
 
 C. [Sententiously,] 
 
 The rose looks fair, but fairer we it deem 
 For that sweet odour which doth in it live. 
 
 But we confuse metaphors : how went the siege after 
 that repulse ? [And Carlo imagined that he could 
 see the great bright eyes of the Senorita flashing over 
 her stockade, and making terrible havoc in William's 
 forces.] 
 
 W. B. Once afterwards, on the night before they 
 left, we happened to be again alone in the same spot. 
 i The thought of to-morrow unmans me,' I said ; ' let 
 me speak again.' But she replied, half sadly, l Are 
 
198 THE AMULET. 
 
 you not strong, senor? Would you give a weak 
 woman pain ? ' 
 
 G. And the forlorn hope fell back ? 
 
 W. B. As you say. 
 
 Carlo made no answer, but rammed the fragrant 
 leaf down into his pipe, and thought, ' Hang it ! 
 when will poor old Bill get range ? ' 
 
 He was growing quite patriarchal. 
 
 Presently William spoke again, and this time 
 somewhat testily for a philosopher : ' Look you, 
 Carlo ; I have done with love this time.' And he 
 shook the ashes out of a venerable bowl. 
 
 C. It remains to be seen whether love has done 
 with you. 
 
 W. B. A burnt child dreads the fire ; but when a 
 man puts his fingers between the bars, the old lesson 
 gets branded in for life. 
 
 C. One consideration seems to have escaped you. 
 
 W. B. Tell it, and so let us drop a painful subject. 
 
 G. [Fiercely.] Painful, indeed ! Did your fingers 
 go in alone ? I tell you they clutched a woman's 
 hand. She may hide it from you ; but 'tis burnt, 
 Will, and you did it. 
 
 And a great groan came out of the tawny beard ; 
 for William was a tender-hearted Stoic, and liked not 
 the imputation of burning women's pretty fingers. 
 
 Let no one malign the race of Achates. It is a 
 good thing when a man is doing, or about to do, some 
 wrong, which he dignifies by the name of heroism, 
 wisdom, or duty, that one at his side should get up 
 
A WEAEY VIGIL. 199 
 
 and say, ' Call this what yon will, it is wrong : I, the 
 man you love, denounce it.' There is something 
 awful in the voice of a friend. We may shut his 
 mouth henceforth ; but he has spoken ; and his words 
 go rolling round and round the cavernous heart, 
 awaking echoes in the darkness. 
 
 Thus often, in the still night, Carlo's words awoke 
 an echo which might have slumbered in his friend's 
 memory : l Dolor da dolor J what did Carlo say ? 
 ' She may hide her hand, but 'tis burnt burnt 
 dolor, dolor' Then sleep would vanquish memory; and 
 sleeping, he would dream that the season for brand- 
 ing had come round, that he stood at noon- day near 
 a blazing fire, holding the rod, while Carlo dragged 
 a heifer within reach. He planted the hot iron 
 against its flank. Then a jet of smoke and steam ; 
 and when it cleared, Julia was standing there alone, 
 holding out a soft white hand, which the pitiless 
 brand had scarred and seamed. And William would 
 groan in sleep, as when his friend first made the 
 thrust. 
 
 If the latter was right in his estimate of Julia's 
 feelings ; if she at Los Ojitos or Los Angeles could 
 have seen the strong man tremble to think he had 
 given her pain ; could have seen how, with the per- 
 verseness of a brave heart, he loved her more, now 
 that he had lost her ; the proud girl would have felt 
 that there was, in the wide world, one man who 
 would give his whole heart to her who had nothing 
 to give in return but hers. 
 
200 THE AMULET. 
 
 But we have no intention of invading Julia's con- 
 fidence. Before long she may tell her own secret. 
 It will be soon enough, perhaps too soon. 
 
 The Senor Don Jose had left William superin- 
 tendent of his estate. The charge was not at present 
 an onerous one, for little was undertaken during the 
 drought. But William could ride over sometimes, 
 and confer with Don Pedro, the chief of the Indians ; 
 and, in the meantime, half the Pedronians, or more, 
 could migrate to Santa Perona, and assist in building 
 the new house. 
 
 'Those rascals,' said the hidalgo, 'grow wicked 
 when they have no good work to do.' But the 
 Englishmen would not accept their labour without 
 recompense, and the Senor would not allow his peons 
 to take money. ' Give to an Indian money,' he said, 
 ' and he sneaks away to the pueblo, or to some other 
 ranckeria : he drinks, gambles, and breaks the com- 
 mandments. Keep it from him, give him work 
 enough, and see what a happy creature it is ! ' 
 
 So Don Carlos established an emporium of calico, 
 cotton prints, yellow silk handkerchiefs, knives, 
 scissors, and beads ; of cups, and pots, and pans : 
 all which things were imported by the merchant, 
 Don Bernardo, of San Luiz. 
 
 A system of currency was introduced. All labour 
 was paid for by the piece : all payments were made 
 in one or more of the wares. Sunday, which was 
 pay-day, was the merriest day of all, when men, 
 women, and children would swarm round the casa 
 
A WEAEY VIGIL. 201 
 
 during half the forenoon, laughing and joking in a 
 Babel of tongues ; gibberish, Spanish, and English, 
 in fair proportions. 
 
 For now the Pedronians were engaged on the 
 future family residence of Don Carlos. Some were 
 making adobes, huge bricks of mud, mixed with 
 straw, and baked by the sun : some were making 
 and baking tiles, others sinking a well. And the 
 little grove at the back of the site was vocal all day 
 long ; for the busy housewives were there, and slim 
 maidens, and chattering imps. 
 
 Not a tree was felled in that ' home copse' (so 
 they called it) ; but the two Englishmen, with Cris- 
 tobal and one of the recently-imported Sonorians, 
 were up on the mountain- slopes cutting the red 
 cedar, or in among the gorges felling the tough 
 white oak. The widow-bird was startled in her 
 solitudes ; squirrels peered wistfully at the intruders, 
 and herds of red- deer flitted through the glades. 
 
 In the evenings there were subjects of importance 
 to be discussed. Mr. Starchie and the Senor Don 
 Mariano thought that Don Carlos ought to consult 
 his own interests, and return to England, in order to 
 obtain Lord Saltum's consent to his marriage. Hugo 
 Monteagle, Viscount Saltum, was a bachelor. His 
 funded property was large : the claimants for his 
 favour not more numerous than usual in such cases. 
 His aversion to a subject of Anti- Christ might be 
 assuaged if Don Carlos were to make the attempt in 
 person. 
 
202 THE AMULET. 
 
 But Carlo would say to Ms friend, ' What's to be 
 done ? I don't care about more money.' 
 
 W. B. You're not to see the lady for six months.' 
 
 C. Still, one is in the same part . of the world. 
 And it's worth something to be with you. 
 
 But William declined to consider that second 
 clause. ' They go a hundred leagues south, to Los 
 Angeles, for the autumn,' he said. 
 
 C. Pretty name, 'Los Angeles,' isn't it ? 
 
 W. B. A meagre consolation, I should say. 
 
 G. Then, you know, Marcos is cruising about. 
 He'll make another attempt, depend upon it ; and, 
 hang me if I don't respect the fellow. But I must 
 stay within hail, old boy. 
 
 W. B. Then you had better write and tell his 
 lordship how strong the bond is, and that you can't 
 and won't break it. Tell him you fought a duel 
 about her, and that her father is only half a heretic, 
 and a lay impropriator. I dare say he'll come round. 
 You might even ask him to come out and be our 
 guest next year, and judge of the lady for himself. 
 He must be tired of that damp moor in Scotland. 
 
 So the matter was settled. Carlo wrote a long 
 letter, but gave up all idea of returning to England 
 in person. 
 
 The friends also discussed gravely a new proposal 
 of Don Jose, that William should accept permanently 
 the office of mayordomo, and reside at San Pedro ; 
 for it had been agreed that Don Carlos should pur- 
 chase the little Rancho of his friend. The result of 
 
A WEARY VIGIL. 203 
 
 their deliberation was, that they should hold to- 
 gether. What mattered it to whom the land belonged? 
 William should help to stock and cultivate it. Wil- 
 liam should help to build the new house, still to be 
 called the ' Casa Briggs,' and to inhabit it when 
 built. They would have a common brand. Irons 
 were ordered with the monogram M5, to represent 
 the firm of Melnot and Briggs. 
 
 The site of the new house also had been eagerly 
 discussed. Carlo wished to leave the casa as a 
 southern boundary lodge, and to choose a site nearer 
 the hacienda of San Pedro. William opposed this : 
 it would be dividing their strength too much. 
 Either Cristobal's site he would have, or the old 
 one. 
 
 C. I tell you I want a garden; and we haven't 
 water enough up here. 
 
 W. B. Did you ever notice the fountain in the 
 court at San Pedro ? 
 
 C. Didn't I tell you it was playing about her like 
 a shower of diamonds when I you know ? 
 
 W. B. So you did. A very pretty simile. Where 
 did you get it ? 
 
 Carlo made an attempt to claim that illustration 
 as an original : but William waived the subject, and 
 went on : ' Well, I won't press you. We'll have a 
 fountain, too. Have you ever thought about these 
 lagoons in the sand-hills ? ' 
 
 ' How the fellow does wander ! ' thought his 
 friend. 
 
204 THE AMULET. 
 
 W. B. Splendid sheet of water the Agna Muerte 
 is ! Supplied in the same way. These Sierras are 
 the walls of a great underground watercourse ; and 
 wherever nature has bored, or man shall bore, a hole 
 down to it, up the water comes. 
 
 C. You'd have saved Babylon. 
 
 W. B. I would keep this site, and even the old 
 hovel itself, if I might. 
 
 (7. Then not a patch of its sacred mud shall be 
 touched, old boy ; here we'll live and die. 
 
 W. B. No, thank you. No. Let us build on the 
 old site, as we pile fresh experience on the ground of 
 old memories. 
 
 C. And nettles that we thought dead crop out 
 among the roses. 
 
 W. B. Ay, or roses among the nettles. 
 
 C. Laudator temporis acti. 
 
 William smiled at the rebuff. ' Carlo is right,' he 
 thought. ' The past stings like an ungracious net- 
 tle. The present bears its thorns and roses on one 
 stem.' 
 
 Sometimes of an evening "William would ride over 
 to the hacienda, and fraternize with Don Pedro, the 
 Indian chief, or visit La Forina and her maiden staff 
 at the great house. At others he would withdraw 
 to the copse at the back of the casa, where the 
 Pedronian colony was encamped ; and in that curious 
 society he would be merry, profound, or sentimental, 
 as the humour seized him. 
 
 On these occasions Carlo would work at his plan 
 
A WEARY VIGIL. 205 
 
 for the house, would muse, or write his letters. 
 Amongst others he wrote his one letter to a certain 
 young lady; and I have since been informed that 
 the donzella laughed and cried over the simple per- 
 formance. But her emotion may be in part attributed 
 to circumstances which had taken place on the little 
 Bancho : and in order to present these vividly to the 
 reader, I must sketch some leading features of the 
 scene and season. 
 
 The great Hacienda of San Pedro, with the smaller 
 estate of Santa Perona, form together a tract twelve 
 leagues in length, by an average breadth of seven 
 leagues. It may be Described as a plateau lying be- 
 tween two sierras, that of the Monte Diablo on the 
 east, and of Las Salinas on the west. 
 
 The foot hills and slopes of the Sierra del Monte 
 Diablo are richly wooded near the bases with white 
 oak ; higher up, with fir, cypress, and cedar. Below 
 the ridge lies the long valley of the San Lorenzo, 
 clothed during eight months of the year with grass 
 and clover, which fail during the autumnal drought. 
 But the western part of the plateau is broken into 
 undulating masses, interspersed with large lagoons. 
 
 The latter tract is not entirely barren. In the 
 spring thousands of acres are covered with luxuriant 
 wild oats ; but where the soil is rocky, or sand-hills 
 [medanos"] rise and fall, the vegetation is confined to 
 patches of cactus, mescal, and a stunted juniper, or 
 here and there a clump of shrivelled holm-oaks. 
 
 We are now far advanced in the long drought, 
 
206 THE AMULET. 
 
 which lasts from May till October. The aspect of 
 the country has passed from green to yellow, from 
 yellow to a greyish brown ; and where your horse's 
 feet used to dash the dew from long grass, or leave 
 a track through green pastures of wild oats, a cloud 
 of dust now marks your passage. The dry soil 
 cracks and gapes. The coyote leaps out of crevices. 
 Ground squirrels scurry into innumerable little holes, 
 at which a small grey owl stands sentry. 
 
 Only down the valley a long line of poplars and 
 willows mark the course of the river, which has now 
 dwindled to a narrow stream, winding along the 
 central channel. 
 
 From the Casa Briggs to San Pedro the trail runs 
 almost in a straight line for two leagues, passing the 
 lodge and gardens of Cristobal, but is lost sight of 
 beyond the boundary, in a forest of oak, which occurs 
 in this part of the valley, forming a natural division 
 between the pastures of San Pedro and Santa Perona. 
 
 But green grasses are now only to be seen in hol- 
 lows where the soil is rich and loamy. There, under 
 willow or poplar, ringdoves congregate, and make 
 perpetual music ; but the cattle, avoiding the rank 
 unwholesome grass, shun these spots. The great 
 steppes become a wilderness. Wild oats and grass 
 seeds, which strew the ground, are good fodder for 
 mules and horses ; but the cattle become lean and 
 wild. Cows conceal their calves in the scrub growth 
 of the sand-hills, and stray into the open country or 
 the mountain spurs in search of pasture : numbers of 
 
A WEAEY VIGIL. 207 
 
 them falling victims to the bear, the puma, and the 
 wolf, which grow fiercer as the season advances, and 
 come boldly among the haunts of men. 
 
 Ferae naturae abounded on all sides. Two colts 
 were carried off from the lands of San Pedro. Calves 
 were devoured among the mescal and juniper bushes, 
 where they had been concealed. A favourite cow 
 was killed within a hundred yards of the casa. The 
 carcase was poisoned freely with strychnine ; and the 
 two friends lay in ambush all night, with bullets in 
 their guns and fury in their hearts, in vain. At 
 daybreak the coyotes rushed upon the prey, and 
 devoured it, five of them falling dead on the spot. 
 
 A few days afterwards, while now September was 
 drawing to a close, a body of Pedronians, mounted 
 on the swift steeds of the hacienda, accompanied by 
 Don Guillermo and Cristobal, rode westward to keep 
 the Vigil and Feast of San Miguel, at the mission. 
 The rest of the Pedronians returned to their rancheria ; 
 but Don Carlos remained at home, with a couple of 
 his own men. 
 
 Day yielded to night. Manuel and Francisco 
 slumbered in the porch. The dogs lay round the 
 fire. Over it Carlos stood moodily, brewing tea. 
 * Confound the bears ! ' he thought ; * to kill Josefita, 
 a pretty tame cow, that one had got quite fond of; 
 and then, after putting one to the expense of all that 
 " nux," not to come back again ! The skulking 
 brutes ! ' 
 
 And he began to plot against his own word. ' Fool 
 
208 THE AMULET. 
 
 that I was to promise not to hunt one again ! Now 
 I followed that track right across the medanos, and 
 I'm certain they go to water at the Agna Muerte. 
 If I should happen to be in the way when they come 
 down, why a scrimmage might ensue. Do I provoke 
 it ? No. A chap shoots wild fowl on his own 
 waters : no one can object to such a pastime. 
 
 ' But I don't generally shoot teal with a rifle. It 
 won't do. Yet the long duck gun would throw a 
 bullet hard, at close quarters. I'll sew one or two 
 up in leather, and slip them into my pocket. They 
 can't do any harm there. 
 
 ' Confound the bears ! ' he continued, having scalded 
 his throat with some hot tea. ' Seven calves done for. 
 Two in Salt Valley, one in Sandy Gulch, one in those 
 dead-alive holm-oaks ; that's six ! and three in the 
 scrub by Pan, that's ten ! Why can't those black 
 harpies * show, before they get killed ? One always 
 knows where to find the skin and bones. And all to 
 come out of our lot : every head, by Jupiter ! not 
 one shall the Arianas lose. 
 
 1 Hullo ! How I do growl ! Hide thy sweet ears, 
 Juanita. " Descanso de mi sentido!" I'll be trans- 
 formed into a ringdove. Butter shan't melt in my 
 mouth. 
 
 ' But what will the Don think of us ? Two fillies 
 gone already ; and his peons working here all the 
 time. I don't believe Will rides round the place at 
 
 * Vultures. 
 
A WEAEY VI GIL. 209 
 
 all, or that any of them have seen the horses or 
 mares for a week, till to-day. I will go after another 
 puma, by Jove ! I'll ride to San Miguel, and get 
 absolution for a lie. Wonder whether the Padre will 
 absolve a heretic ! ' 
 
 From which reflections it would appear that the 
 young man ".had made a rash promise which he re- 
 gretted. But his meditations were suddenly checked. 
 A dismal howl burst from the jaws of three lean 
 mongrels, which were, or feigned to be, asleep at his 
 feet. The pipe dropped from his mouth. The dogs' 
 tails oscillated. Manuel and Francisco groaned. 
 The curs sprang to their feet, squinted at each other, 
 took courage, and dashed off towards a dark object 
 which loomed in the adobe pit. 
 
 Bushing into the house for a pistol, Carlo hurried 
 after, and found the dogs yelping at a huge bear, 
 which sat upright on its buttocks, grinning horribly. 
 He kicked the dogs aside, and fired right into its 
 breast. The bear gave a playful snort, whisked 
 round, and shambled away in an uncouth gallop. 
 
 But Carlo's rifle was loaded, and his blood was up, 
 probably where his brains ought to have been : so he 
 took a bridle to the shed, mounted the 'divinest 
 pinto,' and gave chase. He rode the startled horse 
 barebacked, and belaboured its sides with his spur- 
 less heels. Soon they overtook the dogs. Bruin 
 was making over the sand-hills, but his weight gave 
 the pursuers an advantage in the light soil. Pre- 
 sently horse and dogs came to a sudden check, for 
 
210 THE AMULET. 
 
 the bear had turned to bay, and they were nearly on 
 to him. 
 
 When the pinto saw this horrible enemy [Ursus 
 candescens] sitting erect, with shaggy locks and 
 gleaming tusks, it reared bolt upright, and fell back- 
 wards ; bnt Carlo glided off while the horse was 
 poised in air ; and looking, he saw the bear, as he 
 afterwards told William, ' bowling away at the rate 
 of sixty miles an hour, like a small simoom taking a 
 starlight trip.' 
 
 ' Parbleu ! ' exclaimed the dismounted horseman. 
 The pinto had scampered off in one direction, the 
 bear and dogs in another ; he was left alone in a dim 
 desert of dust. Above, the stars shone brightly, 
 indeed; but a rifle was useless, for there was no 
 moon. 
 
 So he tramped homewards, musing : ' What could 
 have scared the old bundle of oakum ? I couldn't 
 have hit him without putting the muzzle into his 
 mouth. He made light of the pistol-shot, too. Asi 
 me estoy : " He who fights and runs away, lives to 
 fight another day." ' 
 
 Carlo's slumbers that night were not presided 
 over by the winsome face. In his sleep, a dark 
 shadow seemed to flit between him and the stars. 
 Once, he thought, it stooped over him, and grasped 
 at his heart. He shuddered, yet did not wake, but 
 turned over, and slept on. 
 
 So the night wore away. This was the Vigil of 
 Saint Michael. 
 
211 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 SAINT MICHAEL TO THE RESCUE. 
 
 Alas ! that neither tears nor vows 
 Can certify possession. 
 
 ' fTIHE Feast of Saint Michael eh ? ' murmured 
 JL Carlo, as lie awoke, a little after daybreak. ' Is 
 it el soldado, or the angel ? Angel, I believe ; and that 
 reminds me of Angela. I'll go and have breakfast 
 with her. She's always glad to see a fellow. And 
 isn't the little woman fond of HER ? That's all. 
 
 ' Talk about pumpkins and water-melons,' he con- 
 tinued, ' if it weren't for what they give to the cows, 
 down there, we should have a murrain amongst 
 them ; and as to tomatos, there's enough to cure a 
 fever with looking at them. By-and-by we shall 
 have pears, and almonds, and oranges. 
 
 1 Mira usted, Senor Don Carlos ! ' he went on, 
 apostrophising himself facetiously, ' Orange blos- 
 soms ! ' 
 
 And having made his toilette, he took a long 
 single-barrelled gun, and rode off for the boundary, 
 well aware that those pious rogues, Manuel and 
 P2 
 
212 THE AMULET. 
 
 Francisco, would do no work on the nigh day of the 
 patron saint. 
 
 The colony at the boundary of the two estates had 
 grown ; two families having been imported from 
 Sonora by Don Bernardo. They had run up a 
 ramada * by the side of the log-house, and the three 
 families lived in a cluster ; for the new-comers were 
 Angela's countrymen and women, and Cristobal, a 
 born Californian, was buen companero with every- 
 body. 
 
 They worked, as well as lived, together. The 
 small boys and girls carried melons and pumpkins 
 from the garden, and stowed them in cunning layers, 
 with maize-straw between each. The women cut 
 open, and dried in the sun, thousands of bright 
 tomatos. Men and lads worked at the sunk fence, 
 which was to enclose a dozen acres more, to be sown 
 with wheat in the early spring. 
 
 But to-day, no works, except of necessity, were 
 done. Outside the enclosure, pigs and cows waged 
 war for pumpkins which the little boys were rolling 
 across the chasm on grooved planks. Carlo rode 
 through the combatants, and installed himself in the 
 porch. 'I am weary of melons, Angela,' he said; 
 ' Hay tanta abondaneia. Give me a tortilla and the 
 miel de Saguarro : and give me a gourd of sweet 
 milk ; for the bears have killed Josefita, and the 
 other cows are dry.' 
 
 * Bower. 
 
ST. MICHAEL TO THE RESCUE. 213 
 
 So Angela produced her ' honey,' which was indeed 
 the syrup of a great Sonorian cactus, and tortillas, 
 and fresh milk ; hovering round him like a brown 
 guardian angel, loving him, and happy in his ser- 
 vice. 
 
 He talked, while he ate, about her hombre, and 
 about her boy, and her new friends from her * beau- 
 tiful country ' (the hypocrite had never seen it) ; 
 then he wished them all Holy Day. He was going 
 across the medanos to the Agua Muerte, to shoot 
 duck. Would pretty Angela like some ducks for 
 supper, or for Cristobal's breakfast? Thomasito 
 could go with him and bring back the horse. He 
 would walk back at night. Only two little leagues, 
 and the stars were bright. Had not the mayordomo 
 two cuchillos ? 
 
 Yes ; the Senor Don Jose had given him a grand 
 one with a silver handle. Here was the ancient one 
 with the long keen blade. Should not Diego go and 
 stay with the Senor ? Here Angela looked gravely 
 at the brass carbine. ' Diego can shoot.' ' No, no ; ' 
 Don Carlos wished to be alone. There was no dan- 
 ger. He would dream away the day. He had been 
 up half the night. ' 'Sta luego, Angela ! ' 
 
 The boy jumped on to the horse's loins. Carlo 
 carried the long gun across the saddle-bow, and they 
 went over the sand-hills to the great lagoon. Then 
 the child slipped into the saddle and galloped home. 
 
 In the centre of the lake appears a long island of 
 bulrushes, with a dense wall of stiff green sword- 
 
214- THE AMULET. 
 
 flags. Bound this lie the still waters fringed with a 
 narrow border of rank vegetation. 
 
 On the hither bank three tall poplars have grown 
 up in the most favourable spot ; and near these a 
 willow bends over its reflex in the water. 
 
 On the farther side the shore rises abruptly, in 
 rocky ledges, flecked with patches of juniper, and 
 throwing out in bold relief a giant sycamore,* with 
 its silver bark and lush-green leaves. 
 
 Above this oasis glows the autumn sun, and all 
 around it rolls a barren waste of sand. 
 
 Carlo sought the shade of the sycamore, and loaded 
 his gun. 
 
 At his first disturbance a couple of wild geese rose 
 on swift noiseless wings, and vanished in the glare of 
 sunlight. "Now a perfect stillness prevailed. All the 
 irritation, the foolish anger, of last night had worn 
 itself out. 'Who am I, to murmur,' he thought; 
 ' bedesman of such a bountiful Giver ? ' The idyll 
 of this morning, and Angela's gentle voice, had 
 soothed him. 
 
 He gazed on the tranquil water, heard the call of 
 moor-fowl, saw the drakes leading out files of duck 
 from the stiff green wall of flags, saw the little argo- 
 sies sailing within easy range, but cared not to dis- 
 turb them. 'After all,' he mused, ' one must lose a 
 calf or two, and now and then a colt, may be, in the 
 dry season. The bears must live ; so must the lions, 
 
 * Platanus occidentalis. 
 
ST. MICHAEL TO THE RESCUE. 215 
 
 as they call them. I ought not to have given that 
 promise ; but she will absolve me now, seeing that I 
 can't keep it. And I don't wonder at her being 
 timid. If one failed to dodge the spring of a puma, 
 one's brain-pan would be smashed. It's touch and 
 go, literally. But bears are another thing.' 
 
 The little adventure of last night lowered the great 
 race of ' grizzlies ' in Carlo's estimation ; perhaps 
 prematurely. But he mused on : ' I wonder when I 
 shall hear from her. 
 
 i Let us see they'll leave my letter at San Miguel. 
 There are plenty of people passing up and down now, 
 on the other side of Las Salinas. It will get to San 
 Luiz by the end of the month, or before, and will 
 catch the down steamer on the first, so that she will 
 have it on the fourth.' 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 * Can't think what she saw to like in me. Alberto 
 is not a good fellow ; yet he's good-tempered, and 
 sings like who was it ? Orpheus, eh ? And there's 
 El Mejicano (the Senor 'Don Marcos), a perfect 
 rogue of canzonets. Ha, ha ! ' 
 
 And Carlo smiled grimly, thinking of the duel. 
 ***** 
 
 ' So that modern Sphinx has refused Will ! It 
 beats me. Yet she loves him, I'll be sworn. I could 
 see her great black eyes watching him about when 
 he moved, and her forced calm when he came near 
 or spoke to her ; as if she was afraid of betraying a 
 secret ! Miss Clem told me the same thing too. 
 
216 THE AMULET. 
 
 That young lady knows a thing or two. Hullo ! 
 There's a chance.' 
 
 Whether a shoal of small fish, or a few myriads of 
 persecuted tadpoles, had taken refuge in that part of 
 the lake, I am unable to say ; but a concourse of 
 various tribes and families of ducks was assembled 
 under a bough of the sycamore ; some apparently 
 asleep, others standing on their heads in the water, 
 others disappearing altogether, and popping up again 
 in unexpected places. Suddenly a stick fell amongst 
 them. One of the sentry birds gave warning, and 
 the whole concourse retreated swiftly, in good order, 
 skimming along the surface of the water, and disap- 
 pearing amongst the flags. 
 
 But the long gun commanded the line of retreat. 
 A charge of shot rattled along it, and five dead birds 
 floated on the water, with drooping heads. 
 
 Carlo blew down the muzzle of his gun, and as he 
 loaded again, .one might have heard him talking to 
 himself : ' One wife 's all very well, you know : but 
 polygamy on such a large scale ; can't encourage it.' 
 
 Then the philosopher produced four little maize- 
 puddings, which Angela had pressed upon him in 
 the morning. Each one was neatly folded in a leaf 
 of maize, and tied round the middle with the fibre of 
 another leaf. They had been boiled perhaps a month 
 before, in these pretty wrappings, and now came out, 
 clean and cool, like jelly from a mould. 
 
 He regarded them affectionately. 'Ah,' he thought, 
 ' famous little puddings they are too. Remind me of 
 
ST. MICHAEL TO THE RESCUE. 217 
 
 Los Ojitos. Didn't we have them there ? Of course 
 we did. Don't I remember as if it was to-morrow, I 
 mean yesterday, how she put them on my plate, with 
 a large wooden spoon, and just peeped at me with 
 those celestial eyes ? Parbleu ! it makes one giddy 
 to think of her in this scorching sun.' 
 
 For although he had only fired one shot, Carlo had 
 been there a long time, musing and soliloquising. 
 The sun was gilding the tips of the tall poplars on 
 the opposite shore ; and only one branch of the syca- 
 more, with its thin broad leaves, gave him shelter. 
 
 'And now I come to think of it, these puddings were 
 wrapt in little bits of calico at Los Ojitos.' But here 
 Carlo shut his teeth firmly, and fixed his eyes on a 
 clump of chaparral a few yards above, and rather on 
 his right. A minute or two elapsed, but there was 
 neither sound nor motion. * Pshaw,' he muttered, 
 ' I'm nervous after my vigil ; and serve me right too, 
 for a parcus de ' * 
 
 But again an ominous sound from the chaparral 
 arrested his attention. The angry grunt of a grizzly 
 bear no t a snort : Carlo knew the difference well. 
 He took out a bullet already wrapped in leather, and 
 rammed it down on the top of the shot. ' Hang it ! ' 
 he thought, ' how my hand shakes ! ' A fragment of 
 loose rock rolled out of the bushes, bounded down 
 the slope, and plunged into the deep water. 
 
 It suggested an idea to Carlo. Keeping his eye 
 
 * The speaker was about to call himself a ' Parcus deorum 
 cultor.' 
 
218 THE AMULET. 
 
 fixed on the dangerous spot, he slipped off boots and 
 jacket. Again all was still. 
 
 ' Oh ! you won't come on, won't you ? ' he thought, 
 stepping out of his calzoneras. Then a tremendous 
 roar shook the very leaves on the sycamore ; and the 
 enemy advanced, with his head down, but stopped 
 within twenty yards of Carlo, tearing up the ground 
 with his fore feet. 
 
 The other was kneeling with his gun rested on a 
 rock. 'Bluster away as much as you like,' he cried 
 aloud, in a clear, bantering tone ; ' but don't come too 
 near, or, by Ap ' 
 
 But the bear advanced, slowly and surely, snuffing 
 the ground as he came. Carlo pressed the trigger ; 
 the heavy- shotted gun recoiled on him with a loud 
 crash, and springing down the bank, he leaped 
 headlong into the lake. 
 
 Striking out vigorously for the opposite shore, he 
 swam for some distance under water, to mislead the 
 enemy. But no sooner did he rise to the surface 
 than a great sough was heard behind, then a bela- 
 bouring of the water, which sounded like the paddle- 
 wheels of a large steamer. 
 
 He swam swiftly and well, but as the water trickled 
 out of his ears he heard more plainly ; and the awful 
 sounds seemed to gain upon him every moment. 
 
 In passing the flags his bare knees glided for some 
 moments over a slimy substance, after which he was 
 again in deep water. Now the sounds in the rear 
 became stationary and peculiar, like an escape of 
 
8T. MICHAEL TO THE RESCUE. 219 
 
 steam under water. Carlo guessed that his unwieldy 
 foe was in the mire, but swam on steadily, without 
 turning. 
 
 Clambering out in shadow of the poplars, he looked 
 back, and saw the bear distanced, by having been 
 obliged to tack, but now plunging through the deep 
 water, towards him, with terrible eagerness. He 
 embraced a poplar, and climbing the tall stem, seated 
 himself, with sore skin and aching bones, on the 
 lowest branch. 
 
 Now the bear was heaving his huge body out at 
 Carlo's landing-place ; but the bank gave way with 
 him, and he fell backwards. Again, with a furious 
 grunt, the fore paws were planted ; up rose the broad 
 back, but again the rotten bank yielded, and back 
 the monster fell, with a splash which sent the spray 
 up to Carlo on his bough. 
 
 ' What a clumsy it is ! ' he muttered, and watched 
 the other's movements curiously. 
 
 But now the bear chose firmer ground, and 
 emerged. His shaggy locks clung to him dripping 
 with water ; but Carlo noticed that blood was flow- 
 ing from his mouth and staining the ground. He 
 came roaring to the foot of the tree, looking up with 
 an expression of ghastly rage, and the long grizzled 
 beard dripping with gore. 
 
 4 What can the old brute want ? ' But it soon be- 
 came evident what he wanted, and then Carlo's blood 
 began to curdle ; for the slender tree quivered and 
 shook as the bear, with terrible roars, worked round 
 
220 THE AMULET. 
 
 it, digging a deep trench with demoniac strength, 
 digging fiercely with those huge fore feet, hurling 
 the loose soil and broken roots behind him. 
 
 Carlo's gaze was riveted for a while on this mighty 
 delver. ' My hour is come,' he thought ; ' I can't 
 fight, naked, and without a knife.' [Fearfully the 
 tree swayed to and fro.] ' Stay : one more chance. 
 If it should fall in the water. I'm so good at swim- 
 ming.' And again he began to climb the shaking 
 tree, keeping his body on the shady side, and jerking 
 backwards each time it swuug that way. 
 
 A bear, with its lower jaw broken, and its tongue 
 riddled with duck-shot, is in no humour to temporise. 
 This one toils away with fearful rage, seeing nothing 
 but a prospect of swift vengeance, uttering a conti- 
 nuous roar. 
 
 But a coil tightens round its neck; the roar is 
 subdued to a stifled groan ; still it clutches the tough 
 roots, constant to its thought of vengeance. Now it 
 is choking. The small grey eyes start from their 
 sockets, out hangs the gory tongue ; a man approaches 
 within two paces ; a large bullet crashes through its 
 skull ; and it lies down dead, still grasping the founda- 
 tion of Carlo's refuge. For William and Cristobal, 
 returning early after mass, had heard the ominous 
 sound, and turned their horses towards the Agua 
 Muerte. 
 
 So it took three men and two swift horses to kill 
 that bear ; but the former congratulated each other 
 as if they had performed a feat of arms. After skin- 
 
8T. MICHAEL TO THE RESCUE. 221 
 
 ning the monster, Cristobal took the head on his 
 saddle-bow, and went for a horse for Don Carlos, and 
 for a mule to bring home the hide. The other two 
 went over to the sycamore ; William by land, leading 
 his tired and frightened horse ; Carlo by water, ' To 
 wash the blood off my legs ; that bark scratches, I 
 can tell you.' 
 
 He collected the birds on his return, and wrung 
 out his dripping shirt on the bank ; but while he 
 dressed, William kept sending up a little purple 
 column between himself and the crests of Las Salinas, 
 which were fringed with fire by the setting sun. 
 Then Carlo took the pipe out of his mouth, saying, 
 
 ' Let's have a whiff, Bill. I'm thinking where I 
 should have been if you fellows hadn't turned up 
 just when you did.' 
 
 W. B. You were like to have another squeeze for it. 
 
 (7. A squeeze and a squeak this time. There the 
 tale would have ended. 
 
 W. B. What did you think about, up there ? 
 
 C. You see I'm getting practical. At first I 
 thought it was all up. Then I thought the tree 
 leaned a little towards the lake, and that if it fell 
 that way I'd keep swimming round the island in 
 shallow water. 
 
 W. B. But didn't you think about anything else ? 
 
 C. No : I was too busy skimming up the tree and 
 jerking at it when it rocked my way. I didn't see 
 either of you till I heard the bark of that glorious 
 pistol. Then it all flashed upon me, and I thought 
 
222 THE AMULET. 
 
 [A pause. Carlo is gazing at Hesper, in a sea of 
 gold.] 
 
 W. B. Yes : you thought ? 
 
 C. That was heaven over there, and you were two 
 angels sent to deliver me. 
 
 W. B. Perhaps we were. 
 
 It is pleasing to reflect that the attributes with 
 which Carlo endowed his friend and mayordomo did 
 not impair their appetites. Angela roasted the ducks 
 and stewed the beans, on which rescuers and rescued 
 alike feasted. Don Guillermo told how Cristobal 
 took the lead on el negro, and lassoed the bear ; but 
 Cristobal related how the Senor dismounted with a 
 single pistol, and shot the furious beast through the 
 head, as coolly as if it had been a steer, or a great 
 ' bundle of oakum,' as Don Carlos facetiously called it. 
 
 The latter was now in a joyous mood, and laughed 
 at his own discomfiture. He told them after what 
 manner he kept the vigil, and brought tears of laugh- 
 ter to the eyes of Angela : but Don Guillermo was 
 very grave. 
 
223 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 LOST AND SOUGHT. 
 
 Torments me still the fear that love 
 Died in its last expression. 
 
 THE two Englishmen rode home slowly, in the 
 quiet night, talking. 
 
 W. B. One thing perplexes me, Carlo. 
 
 C. Let's have it. 
 
 W. B. You don't seem to have thought of her, 
 once. 
 
 0. [Meditatively.] It is queer. 
 
 W. B. Can't you account for it ? 
 
 0. I was in too great a funk, I suppose. 
 
 W. B. You haven't lost the chain she gave you ? 
 
 Carlo tore his shirt open, clutched about his breast 
 with tremulous fingers, felt the bitterness of vexation 
 rise in his throat, the shadow of coming evil steal 
 over his heart. 
 
 C. I'm done for. The Anwlet!^ 
 
 W. B. What amulet ? 
 
 C. ! Don't you know ? Instead of the cross, 
 
224- THE AMULET. 
 
 she gave me a large opal amulet. It had been in 
 Madre's family for ages. 
 
 W. B. And is it gone ? 
 
 C. Gone. 
 
 W. B. When did you see it last ? 
 
 C. Last night, or rather this morning, at three 
 o'clock. I had it in my hand : that's how I got to 
 sleep after my scrimmage with the bear. 
 
 W. B. And the chain was round your neck ? 
 
 C. Positively, and the end of it between my fingers. 
 You know she used to wear it. 
 
 W. B. Who was with you ? 
 
 C. Only Manuel and Francisco. 
 
 W. B. None of the Pedronians ? 
 
 (7. Not one. 
 
 W. B. And when you sponged this morning ? 
 
 C. I I can't remember having it on. 
 
 W. B. Yet it might have been all right. A man 
 seldom remembers taking his boots off, and putting 
 them on again. 
 
 G. It's upset me, awfully, Will. I'm quite sick. 
 
 W. B. Angela puts too much fat with the frijoles. 
 [But seeing the haggard look on his friend's face, 
 William added] I never failed you yet, Carlo, 
 did I? 
 
 (7. Never. 
 
 W. B. Then trust me now. We will either get 
 the opal back, or the loss shall not affect you. 
 
 C. [Laying hold of William's bridle-arm.] You 
 know what it is I fear ? 
 
LOST AND SOUGHT. 225 
 
 W. B. I know it. Will you trust me ? 
 C. Yes. 
 
 As they were nearing home, William said, ' Don't 
 seem to suspect anything when we get home. I'll 
 do my best.' But the loss had fallen upon Carlo like 
 a heavy blow : it sickened and stupefied him. 
 
 The two Indians awaited them, sitting over the 
 camp-fire. They made tea, and produced a little 
 milk which they had reserved. 
 
 William told the story of the man-hunt, the death 
 of the grizzled hunter, and lauded the cast of Cris- 
 tobal. 
 
 Ah ! Los Ojitos was the spot for vaqueros. Sonora 
 might be well for gardeners, but give William Cali- 
 fornia for herdsmen. So he drew them on. 
 
 And women ! Industrious, cheerful, skilful, were 
 the women of the country, the daughters of the land. 
 And for savoury dishes [Here William made as 
 though he were stirring a savoury mess over the 
 camp-fire] preciosas son las mugeres ! the dear 
 creatures are invaluable ! 
 
 There was no restraint, no suspicion ; the vaqueros 
 glowed with animation. The Senor was right : for 
 tomatas, for pinole con leche, for frijoles, for beef 
 stewed with the chili Colorado, there were no women 
 like the daughters of the land. 
 
 Carlo drank his smoky tea with a wry face. 
 ' The Senor Don Carlos and I are agreed,' con- 
 tinued William : ' on the day of his marriage I give 
 a hundred dollars to Manuel, a hundred to Francisco ; 
 Q 
 
226 THE AMULET. 
 
 Don Carlos gives a hundred to the donzella of 
 Manuel, and a hundred to the other damsel. Is it 
 not well ? ' 
 
 Carlo nodded assent grimly. But the vaqueros 
 were overwhelmed. * Dos cientos pesos! What words 
 were these ! ' 
 
 Had not the mayordomo received two hundred ? 
 Had not Manuel and Francisco forgotten that they 
 were vaqueros ; had they not become carpenters, 
 builders, what not? Had they not guarded Don 
 Carlos in his sleep ? 
 
 But the keen eye of Don Guillermo only encoun- 
 tered sheepish looks. The men remembered how 
 that amiable Senor had rated them last night on his 
 return from a bootless pursuit. Lastima ! Why 
 had they not given chase ? 
 
 "Well, they must each choose a wife, a young 
 Pedronian with flowing hair, a muchacha from San 
 Miguel, a donzella from Los Ojitos. Two hundred 
 dollars ! 'Twas a pretty sum. Five milch cows 
 were worth no more. 
 
 But Carlo returned to his own pallet in the dim 
 chamber, and William found him leaning out of the 
 little window, murdering the tune to which Marcos 
 had serenaded his love on that dewy morning at San 
 Pedro. After a time he lay down to sleep, but this 
 dialogue would repeat itself in the stillness : 
 
 ' Wilt give it away ? ' 
 
 ' Never.' 
 
 * Nor ever lose it ? ' 
 
LOST AND SOUGHT. 227 
 
 'Never.' 
 
 ' So mayest ever keep my heart.' 
 
 At length he fell into a feverish troubled sleep, 
 and again he dreamt that a shadow came between 
 him and the stars ; and this time he roused himself 
 and looked, but only William was near him, sleeping 
 on the other pallet. 
 
 In the morning he awoke with hot temples and 
 throbbing pulse. ' Shall we search the place ? ' he 
 said. . : ir 
 
 W. B. Only where you may have laid it down. I 
 don't suspect them. 
 
 C. Then I must have lost it in that poplar. My 
 thighs are awfully sore. Let us go and search. 
 
 W. B. We will go after breakfast. Seem at your 
 ease now. We shall get it back. 
 
 As they rode away, the two Indians resumed their 
 functions at the saw-pit ; one standing below, blinded 
 with the dust, the other straddling over him, with 
 menacing gestures, sawing beams of the great Taxo- 
 dium, beams and rafters for the Casa Briggs. 
 
 The Englishmen rode towards Agua Muerte, by 
 the boundary. There William drew Angela aside 
 for a moment. Then he exchanged a few words 
 with Thomasito, bestowing praise on the little swine- 
 herd. The services of Cristobal were next enlisted. 
 They were going to see if the vultures had any tales 
 to tell. They might meet with bear or lion. Quien 
 sabe ? Three men were better than two. 
 
 The sunk fence would progress without the mayor- 
 
 Q2 
 
228 THE AMULET. 
 
 domo ? yes : his compadres were zealous to 
 enclose the land while the soil was light and dry. 
 So off they started. 
 
 And while the rest heard nothing but the jingling 
 of their bridle-reins and spurs, William was telling 
 Cristobal of the lost amulet. The mayordomo had 
 heard of the talisman before. They would search 
 under the sycamore, where Don Carlos threw down 
 his clothes ; at the bottom of the lake, where Don 
 Carlos took the precipitous leap into it; the spot 
 where he landed ; the poplar ; the ground all round 
 it ; and would find the amulet, by our Lady's help. 
 They would begin the search without Don Guillermo, 
 who was pressing on to San Pedro, but would join 
 them after noon. 
 
 So William wound through the medanos, seeking 
 San Pedro by another trail ; but these two arrived 
 at the great lagoon. With work before him, Carlo 
 came to life. 
 
 First they searched under the sycamore, and for 
 some distance round, even to the green border of the 
 lake. Cristobal had great hope here. In taking off 
 the shot-belt, the Senor's hand might have caught in 
 the chain, and passed it over his head too. Intent 
 on the danger, he would not have missed it. 
 
 0. But it is not here, friend, see ! Do we not 
 seek? 
 
 Oris. But a chain may be dragged. A foot may 
 have caught in it. 
 
 So they sought diligently, marking out the rugged 
 
LOST AND SOUGHT. 229 
 
 hill- side in strips, twenty- two yards in length, with 
 their lassos, examining it strip by strip, to the 
 water's edge. Not a glimmer of gold, in shade or 
 sunlight, could they see. 
 
 Cris. And the rays of light would flash on the 
 amulet. 
 
 C. No ; it is in a little bag of faded silk, but the 
 chain is bright. 
 
 Again Carlo took the headlong plunge ; feeling 
 before him with his hands, striking upwards with his 
 feet. The hole was deep, and one long sinewy root 
 of the sycamore formed a bar across it. This the 
 diver grasped, and felt it all down, beginning in the 
 hollow bank, not leaving it with his hands till he had 
 traced it many inches below the slimy bottom. Then 
 he rose cautiously to the surface, anxious lest he 
 should disturb the mud. 
 
 Cristobal's cheerful face met him on the bank ; 
 the black eyes flashing expectation, and white teeth 
 gleaming through the jet moustache. It gave Carlo 
 heart. 
 
 Cris. Lastima that a vaquero cannot swim ! Would 
 that I could dive like a Coco-maricopa ! 
 
 Carlo. [Panting for breath.] If the who- whole 
 nation of Co-coco-pa were here, it co-could avail 
 nothing. I wu-will find the ch- charm. 
 
 Cris. [Stooping over the amphibious lover.] 'Tis a 
 blessed charm. My wife has told me of it. When 
 evil comes to the good house, 'tis like the lapis lazuli : 
 when good is at hand, it burns like a heart of fire. 
 
280 THE AMULET. 
 
 Down glided the supple Carlo into the profound 
 recess behind the root. The water hummed in his 
 ears. His hands moved softly through the slime. 
 Still too soon the water was discoloured. His eyes 
 grew dim ; closed ; he groped in utter darkness. 
 The flood roared in his ears; the skin tightened 
 round his chest ; in ten seconds it would burst. 
 
 Cristobal wondered upon the brink. Clouds of 
 light mud rose up and rolled about in the bright 
 water. A long, long suspense. The mayordomo 
 could hear the loud beating of his heart. 
 
 At last the tips of fingers, the hands, arms, 
 head of Don Carlos rose. But the Senor was in pain. 
 He crawled out, and stretched himself in the arabesque 
 of light and shade under the tree ; panting, groaning, 
 pressing pallid fingers on eyes which ached and 
 throbbed. 
 
 The mayordomo clasped his own brown palms 
 together and prayed : ' Madre de Dios, ruega por 
 nosotros ! Miserere Domine ! ' A jumble of lan- 
 guages ; a confusion of ideas, perhaps ; but it came 
 from the poor man's heart. A tear, too, came from 
 his flashing eye. 
 
 Carlo lay groaning on the brink of despair ; but 
 turning and seeing one in prayer, he felt a little 
 strength. Then they searched the ground for some 
 distance round the poplar, wherever the hind legs of 
 the bear had cast the litter about, hoping that' a 
 fragment of the gold chain might afford them some 
 little clue, some thread of hope. 
 
LOST AND SOUGHT. 231 
 
 Carlo's heart sickened. He trembled like one of 
 the leaves upon the trembling tree, when he clasped 
 it round the trunk, and felt that all his hope, now as 
 yesterday, was up among those silvery stems. 
 
 No, he could not let Cristobal go up, though the 
 vaquero's heart was bold, and eye bright. The heart 
 he prized, more than earth and heaven, hung in that 
 bower. It had been intrusted to him. He must 
 find, keep, and cherish it. 
 
 Up he went, sustained by a strong desire ; with 
 eager eyes, and delicate touch, examined all that he 
 could reach ; far out on branches where man had 
 never lain before, drawing in the slender twigs, turn- 
 ing over every leaf ; climbing higher, far higher than 
 yesterday, straining his sight, to scan the very crown 
 of sunlit leaves, and all in vain. 
 
 O man ! Take heart. Is not love, love ? Will an 
 opal break the charm ? Are not links of passion more 
 durable than gold ? No, no ; there is a tumult in his 
 ears, a murmur full of bitterness and woe : ' So 
 mayest ever keep my heart.' 
 
 Down he came recklessly, drawing blood from his 
 fingers, tearing his clothes, crashing leaf and twig, 
 without thought, without regard ; and found William 
 with Cristobal, watching him gravely. 
 
 W. B. Well, Carlo ; you can make nothing of it ? 
 
 C. Nothing but heartache. 
 
 W. B. Too long under water, I dare say. 
 
 C. [Bitterly.] That's nothing, Will. You don't 
 know 
 
232 THE AMULET. 
 
 He could get no farther ; but bit Ms under- lip, so 
 that the blood spurted out ; while a deadly pallor 
 spread over the rest of his face. 
 
 They took him to the great house at San Pedro, 
 where a deep sleep fell upon him. Let us leave him 
 there in charge of his old nurse, retrace our steps a 
 little way, and see how William Briggs thought and 
 acted upon this occasion. 
 
 When Carlo was wringing his shirt out, under the 
 sycamore tree, after he had been rescued from that 
 quaking poplar, William noticed the absence of a 
 small gold chain which his friend had worn for many 
 weeks. 
 
 i I suppose he leaves it at home sometimes,' thought 
 William. 'A bad plan! ' 
 
 For this big Saxon, with a reflective habit of mind, 
 and great energies, which he rather held in reserve 
 than fretted with constant use, was not free from a 
 tinge of superstition. ' A bad plan ! ' he repeated ; 
 ' I've known evil to come of it.' 
 
 You may remember that he was smoking, and 
 gazing into the western sky. His eyes were fixed on 
 the glories of the setting sun with that dead look 
 which a man's eyes wear when his soul has gone 
 back, back through the dreamy past, to some terrible 
 hour when perhaps some calamity befel him, some- 
 thing which has made him other than he was. 
 
 You will remember also that he asked the other 
 what he was thinking about up in the tree. His 
 misgivings were confirmed on learning that Carlo in 
 
LOST AXD SOUGHT. 233 
 
 that predicament had forgotten all about his love : 
 ' For,' he thought, ' the girl was as much concerned 
 in the roots of that tree as he was.' 
 
 Then, as they rode to the boundary, he thought, 
 ' He seems to have forgotten all about her. I don't 
 like his leaving that chain at home.' But when, later 
 in the evening, he again broached the subject, and 
 found that the chain bore an amulet, and that both 
 were lost, he roused himself, and said again, ' Evil 
 might come of this ; but I will hinder it. What 
 profits experience of ill, if not to see it coming, and 
 to wrestle with it ? ' 
 
 So he questioned Carlo, and ascertained that the 
 chain was lost between midnight of the Vigil and 
 sunset of the Feast. Strange as it must seem, his 
 suspicion at once took wing over land and sea, and 
 pounced upon Don Marcos, at that time cruising in 
 the Californian Archipelago. We have no wish to 
 disparage the character of that hero, but William 
 Briggs was a superstitious and a curious fellow. He 
 mused in this way : 
 
 ' He knows that Mariano has banished Carlo till 
 the Carnival, and that he is only to write once in the 
 interval. There is persistency of purpose in the 
 man. I saw the dogged look on his face, and the 
 twinkle in his eye. Gold may prosper where powder 
 and lead failed. Some such idea as that. 'Ay, 
 Marcos ; but there are metals with a truer ring than 
 gold.' 
 
 At first he thought that their two Indians must be 
 
234 THE AMULET. 
 
 the agents. He dealt with them at once ; but in 
 neither did he see a trace of cunning, of suspicion, or 
 reserve. 
 
 Then came the little talk with Angela, in private : 
 
 W. B. Tell me, Commadre mia ; did anyone pass 
 this way [indicating with his hand the passage from 
 the Casa to San Pedro] on the night of the Vigil ? 
 
 A. No, senor. 
 
 W. B. Nor that way ? [indicating the contrary.] 
 
 A. No, senor. 
 
 W. B. Ni mananito Nor in the early morning ? 
 
 A. No, senor. 
 
 W. B. Nor in the forenoon of the Feast ? 
 
 A. Only Don Carlos. 
 
 But presently Thomasito let fall that, about the 
 hour of Angelus, on the Vigil, Costinetto had passed 
 from the Hacienda to Santa Perona, on the other side 
 of the ford. Did Thomasito hail him ? No : it was 
 the hour of prayer : the boy was saying his ' Padre 
 Nuestro.' How was Costinetto mounted ? On el 
 bianco. [This was the white horse which Juanita 
 used to ride ; one noted for speed and endurance.] 
 
 The conversation passed on smoothly to other 
 matters, but William soon afterwards, leaving Carlo 
 and the mayordomo, rode round to the great houseN 
 of the Buenaventuras. 
 
 ' Costinetto was here on the Vigil ? ' he said to 
 La Forina. 
 
 L. F. Si, senor. 
 
 W. B. Did he go to keep the Feast ? 
 
LOST AND SOUGHT. 235 
 
 L. F. The Senor was there. Did he not ? 
 W. B. I left at noon with Cristobal. I saw him 
 not. 
 
 Then William went on to the Rancheria, and found 
 that Don Pedro and the others had returned during 
 the night, and were then sleeping in the dust, like 
 lizards. The Don was to bring a party over in the 
 afternoon to renew their labours at the Casa Briggs. 
 Costinetto had not been seen. He had not kept the 
 Feast. Don Pedro observed that his kinsman was a 
 Gentile and a ladrone, and so composed himself for a 
 little more slumber. 
 
 But William returned to La Forina ; told her that 
 the amulet was lost, and that he had bound himself 
 to find it. Could she help him ? The old woman 
 was frightened at the loss. She must see Don 
 Carlos. 
 
 And it has been related how she saw him, and was 
 likely to see much of him for the next few days. 
 
 He started and twitched and groaned in his sleep, 
 like a man in fear and in pain. When he awoke, 
 and saw her sitting on the foot of his bed, rocking 
 herself to and fro, he said, ' 0, my mother, is it 
 thou ? Hast been here all the time ? ' 
 
 L. F. Three long hours, waiting to hear thy 
 voice. 
 
 C. I have had that dreadful dream again. 
 
 L. F. Which dream ? 
 
 C. A shadow coming between me and the stars. 
 
 L. F. The shadow of a man ? 
 
236 THE AMULET. 
 
 C. Yes ; an old man like Costinetto, with' blood- 
 shot eyes. 
 
 In the meanwhile William repaired to Don Pedro, 
 told him that he was going on a journey, and must 
 have el bianco. He should start an hour after sunset, 
 wishing to travel all night. There appeared a per- 
 plexity in William's plans here, for he had also 
 instructed Cristobal to have el negro in readiness for 
 him at the same time. 
 
 The Hacienda was scoured far and near. The two 
 caballadas were driven in, and corraled. The Senor 
 might take horses and men : all were at the service 
 of his Grace, but el bianco was missing. 
 
 Next, the Senor wanted an escort. He would 
 have Costinetto, no other. A new sarape to man or 
 boy would bring Costinetto, by an hour after sunset. 
 How unreasonable was this Ingles ! Not an Indian 
 head was wanting but that of the gambler, the 
 Gentile, the ladrone. Q,ue carajo ! And no other 
 would do. 
 
 Manuel and Francisco had nothing to tell. The 
 house had been swept, the clothes hung out in 
 the sun ; they had worked at their saw-pit, anxious 
 as Don Guillermo could be to hasten the auspicious 
 day and dollars. 
 
 So William gave directions how the work was to 
 proceed in his absence, and rode back to bid his 
 friend farewell. Carlo was still more than half asleep. 
 
 Day had given place to night again. Two or 
 three women moved silently about the deserted 
 
LOST AND SOUGHT. 237 
 
 corridors. William lingered for a moment in the 
 gloom. ' In this populous world,' he thought, ' there 
 must be some deserted houses, some passages which 
 only echo with the memory of soft foot-falls, of 
 words which once made music in the ear and heart.' 
 
238 THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 FOUND. 
 
 An amulet, that keeps 
 
 Intelligence with you ; 
 Bed when you love, and rosier red, 
 And when you lore not, pale and blue. 
 
 rjlHREE years before the date of these events, the 
 J- Seiior Arianas, marking the great influx of popu- 
 lation to the north, concluded that a demand for 
 grapes would soon arise. So he set his gardens at 
 Los Angeles in order, engaging a Sonorian vine- 
 dresser, by name Don Gabriel. 
 
 A tribe of civilised Indians, calling themselves 
 ' Aguas Calientes '* (Hot- waters), supplied labourers 
 for the vineyards ; and, during the grape harvest, 
 extra ' hands' of women and girls were levied from 
 the Pueblo. 
 
 Meanwhile a great distillery rose in San Francisco : 
 a company was also formed for making wine at Los 
 Angeles ; and the grapes of the Senor Don Mariano 
 Arianas, together with those of the Dona Julalia, his 
 cousin, commanded the markets. This year, thou- 
 
 * From some springs in the neighbouring mountains. 
 
FOUND. 239 
 
 sands of cases, filled with plump Malagas, were sent 
 by sea to San Francisco ; and the production of a 
 large juicy lemon promised soon to become a mine of 
 wealth. 
 
 So the hidalgo and his family are passing the 
 autumn in this resort. I should like to draw you a 
 picture of Don Mariano's pretty villa, with its broad 
 shadowy balconies, in which you see doors and 
 windows, like dark openings to a lonely grot, through 
 a wall of climbing rose and jasmine. But you must 
 picture it to yourself. I can only hint that such 
 was their abode. 
 
 The house stands in a plot of thirty acres, enclosed 
 with a tall willow hedge. Twenty acres are devoted 
 to the Malaga grape ; but near the house is a grove 
 of lemon and orange trees, a tiny water-course, and 
 the never-failing fountain. The domain is called 
 ' Las Rosas ; ' an appropriate name ; for in this genial 
 climate roses are in blossom throughout the winter, 
 or rather through that delicious season which cor- 
 responds to our winter, but can only be compared to 
 an Andalusian May on the banks of the Guadal- 
 quivir. 
 
 Gaiety is not a prominent feature of the best 
 society in Mexican towns : and though the Pueblo de 
 Los Angeles, at the date of our story, belonged to the 
 United States, its social aspect remained unchanged. 
 
 Fandangos, and other merry-makings, are frequent 
 during the Carnival, and on the feast-days of favourite 
 saints ; but the upper class partake sparingly of 
 
240 THE AMULET. 
 
 these festivities, and, indeed, affect a greater exclu- 
 siveness and gravity of demeanour in town than in 
 the seclusion of their Ranches. 
 
 If the society of Los Angeles was at all influenced 
 by its political transfer, the effect was a more zealous 
 retirement of the respectable class, and a bolder 
 levity on the part of the disreputable : though this 
 may be justly attributed to its position, at the end of 
 a line of immigration from the old States, and to the 
 temptations which it offered to persons of infamous 
 character, who, on their way to the gold-region, 
 would linger in the pretty Pueblo, leaving marks of 
 lawlessness and vice behind them. 
 
 So the tall willow fences became taller, the wattled 
 branches locked each other in more rigid bands. 
 Nothing met the eye but walls of pale green leaves ; 
 but, from within, odours of jasmine and orange 
 filled the air, or a hum of voices might be heard 
 where a group of women were gathering and packing 
 grapes. 
 
 Through these suburbs of Los Angeles, the water 
 of a mountain-stream is carried in an aqueduct, dis- 
 tributing little channels to irrigate these solitudes ; 
 for at the back, that is on the eastern side, of the 
 town, rise the bluffs of Temescal, above which looms 
 the great Cerro of Saint Anthony. 
 
 But about the Plaza, in the more populous part of 
 the town, through doorways which are doorless, 
 through ventanas which are windowless, may be seen 
 
FOUND. 241 
 
 the hammock's gentle motion, with the impress of a 
 human form, if it is the afternoon ; no less than in 
 the gilded cabin of the Yegua Negra, now riding at 
 anchor in the roadstead of Saint Peter, whence, on 
 a soft western gale, or in the quiet of the afternoon 
 siesta, is borne the long murmur of the solemn 
 wave. 
 
 At daybreak, on the 3rd of October, a packet 
 steamed into the roads, fired a signal-gun, sent a 
 passenger on board the yacht of Don Marcos, some 
 bales and letter-bags on shore, and, steaming out to 
 sea again, held on its way to San Diego. 
 
 The letter-bag contained despatches for the Senor 
 Don Mariano, but not a word of comfort for Juanita. 
 And to judge by the manner of the others, little com- 
 fort had been conveyed to them through the medium 
 of the General Jackson. 
 
 But let us return to Juanita. The reader will 
 remember how a shadow fell upon the breakfast- 
 table at San Pedro, on the morning of the 4th of 
 August a cold, grim shadow, that of death, who 
 had stalked through the valley in the morning 
 mist. 
 
 After an interval less sad than agreeable, the lady 
 returned to Los Ojitos, as we saw in a former chapter. 
 In her eyes the place looked desolate and barren ; 
 and, indeed, the great plain was of a uniform straw- 
 colour, for the grasses had withered in the valleys, 
 and oat- stubble lay prone upon the uplands. They 
 
242 THE AM V LET. 
 
 arrived by the light of such a moon as that which 
 lit her first parting with Don Carlos ; a large silver 
 moon, climbing slowly above the mountain-tops. 
 
 * Ah ! ' she thought, ' it is ever Adios ! adios ! 
 Mockery of words ; for the heart clings to man. 
 Poor heart, always torn and rent, and mocking itself 
 with words in which no comfort lies ! ' 
 
 If the lady was unreasonable, I cannot help it. I 
 don't undertake to draw an ideal heroine, but this 
 poor donzella, as she was. 
 
 She did not mean that words are powerless to 
 convey any kind of comfort: on the contrary, she 
 seemed anxiously to desire some such, looking wist- 
 fully at every traveller who passed southwards, or 
 who stayed to ask posada at the Rancho. 
 
 Wearily the month of August wore away. Time 
 loiters with one who looks for that which comes not ! 
 All day, one longs for the night ; all night, sighs for 
 the day ! Expectation closes round you like a dull 
 dead mist. Out of the mist comes a voice which 
 mutters something, lowly in an undertone, so that 
 you become familiar with the sound, before the sense, 
 of what it has to say. 
 
 Twice or three times Juanita strove with her un- 
 seen enemy. She sought to tell her mother what she 
 was going through, but could not. To complain of 
 him, to tell anyone that she wondered why he did 
 not write, that such a long silence was more than she 
 could bear, that she allowed herself to think strange 
 things of him, to doubt him, seemed more difficult 
 
FOUND. 243 
 
 every day, became impossible. She wrapt herself in 
 the dead mist ; the voice whispered in her ear, and 
 the poison crept into her heart. 
 
 But the mother noticed this trial of her child, and 
 she, too, wondered why Don Carlos did not write. 
 When they parted, it had not been decided whether 
 he should return to England to settle his affairs . 
 Surely he had not left without a word, without riding 
 a few leagues out of his way, without leaving a letter 
 at San Miguel ! 
 
 Don Mariano did not observe these misgivings. 
 His hands were full. He omitted to mention that 
 he had consigned Don Carlos to a banishment of six 
 months, and had restricted the number of letters. 
 But Carlos supposed that they were in his con- 
 fidence. 
 
 Passing through San Luiz on the 2nd of September, 
 they were entertained by Don Bernardo. He had re- 
 ceived a messenger from Santa Perona, with a letter 
 in the writing of Don Gruillermo. The letter con- 
 tained no allusion to Don Carlos. Don Bernardo 
 knew nothing of the caballero's movements. So an- 
 other little glimmer of hope died out, and the lady 
 travelled southwards, by sea, to Los Angeles. 
 
 She had a rebellious heart ; and it rose up in cla- 
 mour, on the sixteenth of that month, when the 
 Jupiter sent on shore mail-bags from the northern 
 ports, and, after all those heart-aches, not a word of 
 comfort came to her. 'My heart is breaking,' she 
 said ; ' I have loved in vain. Ah me ! bitter, bitter 
 
 B2 
 
24-4 THE AMULET. 
 
 woe ! What a dreary world to live in ! ' But tlie 
 house was a bower of roses ; and in the orange- 
 groves, hard by, Don Gabriel was humming a roun- 
 delay. 
 
 And as he hummed, the words of her thought 
 formed a refrain to his song, ' In vain, in vain ; I 
 have loved in vain.' * 
 
 So the mist which had swathed her drew back a 
 little, still shutting out all beautiful and holy sights 
 which lay around her, but giving place to pride, a 
 wounded, angry spirit, which fluttered round, and 
 goaded her heart into some such utterance as this : 
 4 1 threw myself at his feet, and he scorned me. I 
 went to be near him ; but he stayed away, or coming 
 tardily, preferred another, and gave my token to a 
 stranger. All this I forgave him ; but why did he 
 claim me ? Why fold me to his heart, and mock me 
 with kisses ? Cruel and unkind ! ' 
 
 For wounded pride is spiteful, and bears false wit- 
 ness. It painted Carlo as a man of violence, who 
 made a sport of love. Juanita looked upon the pic- 
 ture, and thought she recognised the lineaments. 
 
 And, looking on this false picture, she forgot the 
 tender traits of nature, and knew not that she had 
 forgotten them : coldness which melted in a woman's 
 presence ; the taming of el pinto ; the last will and 
 testament of Carlo, as he went on the war- trail in 
 the pass of Chelone ; those things which La Forma, 
 and those which Angela, had told her ; the self-im- 
 posed solitude and sadness in the Grlade of Oaks ; the 
 
FOUND. 24-5 
 
 long, eager gaze in the forest ; the pistol fired in the 
 air ; the tender solicitude during her illness, and the 
 like, she saw no longer. The picture wore another 
 aspect. 
 
 So the month of September came and went ; but 
 Juanita was unconscious of the letter which Carlo 
 had written, and of those subsequent events which 
 took place on the little Rancho. 
 
 As the early days of October came over the Cerro 
 of Saint Anthony, lingered in the sultry sky, and 
 died on the margin of the sea, the angry spirit left 
 her for a time, and the dull, dead mist of hope de- 
 ferred closed round her. ' Mariana,' she moaned, 
 ' manana, y nunco ser manana, The morrow, the 
 morrow, which comes, but never is ! ' 
 
 As the third day broke, she heard the signal-gun 
 of a mail-boat. Wildly the blood coursed through 
 her veins. Every pulse beat and throbbed tumul- 
 tuously. Every sound from without made her start 
 and quail as though some evil threatened her, as 
 though she knew it coming, and suffered ere it came. 
 At last it came. The letters were delivered ; but to 
 her, not a word of comfort. 
 
 Then, on the next day, came Alberto, with the 
 basilisk eye, and quiet sneer. ' Poor muchdcha \ the 
 Ingles loves thee. Be comforted ! But the caballero 
 returns to his land. He has forgotten to say fare- 
 well ! And thy little jewel, la joyita. [How she 
 started ! She seemed to have forgotten the amulet.] 
 The calallero keeps it not. It is nothing.' 
 
246 THE AMULET. 
 
 The mist vanished. The angry spirit fled abashed. 
 Up rose the true heart, in wrath. ' Coward ! ' she 
 exclaimed, stamping her little foot, shaking back her 
 glossy hair, and looking defiance into the basilisk 
 eye. But the eye gleamed ominously, the lips parted 
 in a smile, showing a double crescent of white teeth, 
 as Alberto drew slowly from an inner pocket the coils 
 of a golden cord, the amulet in its faded silk bag, 
 which also contained a golden tress. 
 
 Handing these to his brother's child, Don Alberto 
 languidly withdrew. But RTita sat down upon the 
 greensward, and leaned her back against the rim of 
 the marble basin, playing with her jewel listlessly ; 
 while the spray of the fountain danced about her, 
 glistening, like dew-drops, on her hair, her dress, on 
 her very hands, as she wound the golden loops about 
 her fingers. 
 
 Unlike Nita, as she stood by another fountain, 
 putting the chain round her lover's neck, in the 
 quaint particoloured light of Chinese lamps ! 
 
 But let us watch her for a moment. She unties 
 the string of the little sachet, takes out the shining 
 tress, and kisses it; lays it down, takes out the 
 amulet sadly. But see ! Her cheek brightens ; she 
 draws a long breath through parted lips, tears gush 
 from her eyes, her face is hidden in her hands ; down 
 she bends, and the fountain casts its spray upon her 
 drooping head, while her soft palms are watered with 
 a flood of tears. 
 
FOUND. 247 
 
 For, as she drew the opal from its case, a furtive 
 sunbeam smote it ; and at once the amulet glowed 
 like a heart of fire : so Nita knew that her love was 
 true. 
 
 Looking up after a time, she became aware of a 
 tall figure, dusty and travel- stained, standing where 
 Alberto had stood before. 
 
 ' Who brought it ? ' he said, in a solemn tone. 
 
 ' Alberto,' she answered. 
 
 ' Is Don Marcos here ? ' 
 
 ' There,' she said, pointing seawards. 
 
 * It came that way,' he continued. 
 
 Then she rose and clung to his arm, as the passion- 
 flower clings to a giant palm. 
 ' Go on,' she said. 
 
 * I traced it to Monterey. There I saw the steamer 
 in the offing, and have ridden a hundred leagues to 
 save you this pain, but am late.' 
 
 1 No, no,' she said. ' Go on.' 
 
 ' It was stolen from him, as he slept, on the Vigil 
 of Saint Michael.' 
 
 Then Juanita leaned her fair brow on William's 
 breast, sobbing and weeping passionately, with self- 
 reproach ; and Julia, hearing these sounds, drew 
 near, and saw what was taking place. 
 
 When Don Guillermo saw her, he held out the 
 hand which was disengaged without embarrassment ; 
 and the Dona came and greeted him. 
 
 ' " Buena sea tu venida" Well is thy coming,' she 
 
248 THE AMULET. 
 
 said, quite calmly. But five minutes before she had 
 been thinking of him, at Santa Perona, far away, 
 beyond the purple hills. 
 
 ' TiaJ William said to her, with a smile. ' Give 
 this to the Senorita, by-and-by.' This was Carlo's 
 letter, which William had brought from San Luiz 
 Obispo, where it had missed the steamer, as he had 
 done at Monterey. 
 
249 
 
 CHAPTER XXHI. 
 
 MEETINGS BY MOONLIGHT. 
 
 last chapter closed with a scene which was 
 J- enacted in the garden of Las E/osas. 
 
 As the family of Arianas and their guest sat in the 
 Piazza that evening, apparently on good terms with 
 each other, William said he had an adventure to 
 relate. The ears of all were intent to hear. So he 
 told it as follows : 
 
 ' Having kept the Vigil of Saint Michael at the 
 Mission, Cristobal and I, who had a wife and a friend 
 at home, started after mass, on the feast day, and 
 took the lower trail, that which leads to the boundary 
 of the two estates. 
 
 * The country, as you must know, is arid at this 
 season, being, after you emerge from the pass, little 
 more than undulating sweeps of sand, or dusty stub- 
 ble, yawning and gaping where the soil is firmest, as 
 though crying out for a drop of water. Is it not 
 so ? ' he said, turning to Juanita, who sat near him. 
 
 ' I thought it beautiful as we came along,' she 
 said. Poor innocent ! The beauty was in her heart. 
 
250 THE AMULET. 
 
 Fresh springs, green grasses, and the song of the 
 turtle-dove, had all been there. 
 
 'Yes,' replied William, gravely; 'but you see the 
 Feast of St. Michael occurs later in the season. The 
 land was parched. When we were about two leagues 
 from the boundary-lodge, we heard, on our right, 
 thunder ; yes, surely it was a peal of thunder : no 
 what then ? A long low angry roar, which ceased 
 for a moment now and then, breaking out again, 
 more angrily and deeply. It was a wounded bear at 
 work : at what work ? We soon conjectured. Well 
 Cristobal knew the sound, having heard it once 
 before. 
 
 ' So we turned aside, and rode straight for the 
 Agua Muerte : swiftly and more swiftly, into that 
 dreaded circle of sound ; nearer and nearer to the 
 centre whence it came. The horses were bathed in 
 
 foam. El negro was as white as ' but, turning to 
 
 the Senorita, William saw she too was a deadly 
 white. 
 
 ' Well, the story will soon be ended, and all 's well 
 that ends well ; but my poor horse was overweighted, 
 and the mayordomo disappeared over a low round 
 ridge, while we struggled on, SI castano and I.' 
 
 * Quick, senor,' gasped Mta. 
 
 ' Yes ; I urged him on furiously, riding more like 
 Don Carlos than myself. The tops of three tall pop- 
 lars rose above the ridge, one swaying to and fro 
 terribly; at last the whole trees, and between me 
 and them, Cristobal, making a cast.' 
 
MEETINGS BY MOONLIGHT. 251 
 
 1 For the love of the blessed Virgin, quick ! ' whis- 
 pered Mta, drawing close. 
 
 ' From the base of the tree which rocked came a 
 smothered groan, instead of the loud roar. El negro 
 had turned, and was struggling fearfully, to loud 
 cries of the mayordomo, for the bear was immove- 
 able, clutching * 
 
 ' A-a-ah ! Quick, for the love of God ! ' 
 
 ' clutching the strong roots, immoveably ; so I 
 
 dismounted, and shot him through the head.' 
 
 ' And ? ' they all asked in a breath. 
 
 * Yes ; I was forgetting : Don Carlos descended 
 from the tree.' 
 
 ' Libre de dano ? ' 
 
 ' Unhurt.' 
 
 ' Ave Maria santissima /' 
 
 ' But on the next day, what with grief and vexa- 
 tion at his loss, what with staying too long under 
 water diving for an opal, climbing bareheaded in the 
 heat of noon looking for I wonder what, he fell ill, 
 and we took him to La Forina, at San Pedro.' 
 
 Juanita took William's brawny hand in hers, raised 
 and kissed it with simple fervour; but he said, 'I 
 have earned no thanks ; they are due to our good 
 Cristobal.' 
 
 Then William, rising, stood by the side of Mariano, 
 who was leaning against a rose-twined column, in 
 his favourite attitude, with folded arms, and one leg 
 across the other. ' Yours is a generous race,' said 
 the Englishman ; l you love to thank when little 
 
252 THE AMULET. 
 
 has been done, to give when nothing has been de- 
 sired.' 
 
 We must bear in mind that William had been 
 ' M. le Diplomate ; ' but, being an honest fellow, and 
 withal a reflective one, he added, 'You grant a 
 favour less readily when asked.' 
 
 1 Julia felt a sharp pang, and gave a sudden start ; 
 but it passed unnoticed, for the two wax candles 
 were far back in the dim JUstrado, and our friends 
 were sitting or standing in deep shade. 
 
 Don Mar. What favour, senor ? 
 
 W. B. But we are a race who love not to ask. 
 
 Don Mar. I and my house are at your service ; ask ! 
 
 W. B. No ; it was a passing thought. We have 
 ample proofs of your kindness. Yet my friend would 
 write more often to the Senorita. 
 
 Don Mar. Let him write, or let him come ; Las 
 Rosas is the home of Don Carlos. 
 
 Juanita then knew for the first time that Carlo had 
 been withheld from writing. She had read his one 
 letter, had forgotten two months of misery, or only 
 remembered how she had wronged him, and having 
 no place for an angry thought, said meekly, ' Gracias, 
 senor.' 
 
 And when the ladies had retired, Don Guillermo 
 lingered in the piazza ; but Don Mariano, having 
 squeezed the juice of a lemon into a glass, filled it up 
 with wine, and drank ; then he paced the broad walks 
 to and fro, revolving many things in his mind. 
 
 Fortune had lately dealt him two severe buffets. 
 
MEETINGS BY MOONLIGHT. 253 
 
 The news had reached him by the mail which arrived 
 that morning. The ' Agua Fria ' bubble had burst, 
 and with it had passed away $100,000, his whole 
 realised property. The commissioners of inquiry into 
 Mexican title-deeds had decided against his claim to 
 the estate of Los Ojitos. So that the Senor Don 
 Mariano was no longer rich. 
 
 And as he paced to and fro in the solemn stillness, 
 a voice reached him from afar, a voice which spoke 
 of something constant and enduring, of something 
 strong to do and to bear. All through life it had 
 sounded in his ears. When he had been alone, think- 
 ing good, or thinking evil when every other voice 
 was mute, he seemed to be not alone. That solemn 
 murmur never ceased. 
 
 In youth it had spoken to him, and in middle age ; 
 in longing and regret ; in joy and sadness ; on his 
 Rancho, or in the Pueblo ; at rest, or on the road ; 
 and now it moaned reproachfully. 
 
 ' Those girls ! ' he thought ; ' I should have done it 
 before this blow fell. Now I am poor. I am vaquero, 
 Indio ! Not a rood of land, not a fanega of barley, not 
 a dollar, not one. Jesu Gristo ! ' 
 
 And still he heard the distant moaning of the 
 wave. 
 
 * And my poor Juana ! Sweet wife, so uncomplain- 
 ing ! And Marcos ! Is the man ruined too ? He must 
 have heard this morning. I shall see him. Ah ! no : 
 he avoids me : thinks I shall upbraid him : Marcos, 
 the son of our dear Renaldo ! 
 
254 THE AMULET. 
 
 ' But those poor orphans ! Is it tlieir fault that my 
 father begat them ? Have they sinned ? I thought 
 the great Ingles loved the Rosebud, too. He might 
 have taken her, if I had given her but a few dollars ; 
 ten thousand, even five : it is nothing. But now ! 
 [The Senor fixed his eyes upon the moon, which 
 somehow appeared to him melancholy, that night.] 
 Now my poor sisters will go singly, like the single 
 moon.' 
 
 Having arrived at the end of a broad walk, the 
 Senor turned his back upon the lonely moon ; when, 
 to his surprise, there met him a lady in a long white 
 robe, with no mantle but a shower of brown hair, 
 which fell round her shoulders. 
 
 These midnight meetings are terrible. The hidalgo 
 started back, aghast. 
 
 ' Be not angry with me, dear brother.' 
 
 ' Ah ! hermanita, is it thou ? 
 
 ' It is I. [Julia.] I know of thy sorrow.' 
 
 No answer. 
 
 ' Hast lost thy Rancho ! ' 
 
 Still no answer. 
 
 ' The Agua Fria mine has stopped ! ' 
 
 A groan. 
 
 'Art well-nigh ruined, brother mine. Hast no 
 money left. Canst not buy back thy Rancho ! ' 
 
 Another groan. 
 
 ' But 'tis bought. 'Tis mine. I give it thee, dear 
 brother. See here ! ' 
 
 And she handed him a paper. 
 
MEETINGS BY MOONLIGHT. 255 
 
 Accumulated astonishment overpowered the stout 
 hidalgo : 
 
 ' COL a ^arnba ! ' he exclaimed with emphasis, 
 reading the paper by the light of the lonely moon. 
 
 She was right. It was the copy of a document 
 purporting to resign the claim of the Superior and 
 Holy Order of San Francisco to the Hacienda of ' Los 
 Ojitos,' in consideration of certain moneys, not speci- 
 fied, paid over by Don Bernardo of San Luiz Obispo, 
 on behalf of some person not specified. 
 
 ' CA-A-RAMBA ! ' 
 
 Then Don Mariano, who, as the ladies thought, had 
 been growing more reserved in manner, and more 
 troubled about affairs, during the last three years, 
 took Julia in his arms, and kissed her, saying, ' Go 
 thou to bed, my pretty Rose. Hast taught me to be 
 generous.' 
 
 The Rose vanished among the roses, and the Senor 
 stood wondering. ' Who has done this ? Who has 
 seen this impending evil, and gone before it with a 
 remedy ? Is it hidden from me ? My dear brother, 
 my Jose, my Joaquin ! ' 
 
 How came the Dona Julia by this important docu- 
 ment ? Don Ghiillermo, as we have seen, lingered in 
 the Piazza when the ladies retired to rest. But as 
 they went, he pressed the hand of Julia, and whispered 
 one word, ' Return.' 
 
 And as he lingered, she appeared at his side, clad 
 in white, and veiled in nature's mantle. 'At the 
 service of your Grace,' she said, smiling. 
 
256 THE AMULET. 
 
 ' No,' lie said, looking at her half sadly, ' not mine. 
 Another needs it more than I.' 
 
 'What other?' 
 
 Then he told her of the two great losses which had 
 befallen Mariano. ' But a friend, an old and tried 
 friend,' he added, ' foresaw this calamity, and bought 
 the claim of the Franciscans to Los Ojitos. Here it 
 
 is. I am commissioned to give it you. You are ' 
 
 [Here William hesitated a moment, as if he had for- 
 gotten his instructions.] ' Yes, you are to do with it 
 absolutely as you wish.' 
 
 Her hands trembled with the strange gift. * Who 
 is the giver ? ' she asked. 
 
 ' An old friend, and one who will not miss the price 
 of it,' he answered. ' Vaya, con Dios ! ' 
 
 And she went. 
 
 The next morning, at break of day, Don Mariano 
 and the Englishman stood upon the sea- shore, hailing 
 a yacht in the roadstead. A strange story about the 
 amulet had come to the hidalgo's ears. Strange 
 thoughts about Don Marcos caused a tumult in his 
 brain. 
 
 No response came from the schooner, which rode 
 gracefully at anchor, swaying her bright masts against 
 the horizon, and bowing to the surging sea. Again 
 and again they hailed, but hailed in vain. The 
 schooner slipt her cable ; a gentle land-breeze caught 
 the jib ; round veered her head towards the south ; 
 the large mainsail slowly rose ; and in a few minutes 
 
MEETINGS BY MOONLIGHT. 257 
 
 the Black Mare, under a press of white canvas, was 
 gliding calmly away on the surface of the deep. 
 
 * It is strange ! ' said the Senor. 
 
 'Very,' answered William, whose keen eye was 
 fixed on the stern cabin windows of the yacht. His 
 companion, looking in the same direction, could just 
 discern the wave of a long moustache under the brass 
 rim of a spy-glass. Certainly that was the magnifi- 
 cent moustache of Don Marcos. 
 
 An hour afterwards Don Guillermo took his leave 
 of the ladies. Having wished the others Adios \ and 
 having Dona Julia's hand in his, William said, ' The 
 other, too.' So she gave him the other ; two soft 
 warm little hands. He lifted them up, looked at them, 
 as if he expected to see some mark or sign upon them, 
 and not seeing any such mark or sign, resigned them, 
 with half a sigh. 
 
 How very curious of Don Guillermo ! What strange 
 persons are these Ingleses \ A strange farewell, indeed ! 
 And he rode away. 
 
258 THE AMULET. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 
 OMNES EODEM COGIMUR. 
 
 Why lingereth she to clothe her heart with love, 
 
 Delaying ; as the tender ash delays 
 
 To clothe herself, when all the woods are green ? 
 
 WE shall hurry over the events of the next few 
 months. Towards the end of November, the 
 
 Senor Don Mariano, with wife and child and sisters, 
 
 returned to Los Ojitos. 
 
 In those days Julia grew sadder and sadder. No 
 murmur passed her lips : still she had a quiet smile 
 for those who greeted her : but the eyelid ever 
 drooped : the rosy bloom of health left her cheek ; 
 and its mantling was with a hectic flush which came 
 and went. She would sit much alone with Francesca, 
 her sister, and sing little songs which they had learnt 
 in childhood. Once they were vague melodies which 
 hovered about creations of the fancy, or spoke of an 
 abstract sentiment. Now a strange new meaning 
 gave them force. She was learning to speak the 
 heart-language from her heart. One of these cancions 
 ran thus : It is by Cristobal de Castillejo, the last of 
 the Romancer os. 
 
OMNES EODEM COGIMUB. 259 
 
 El me quiere mas que asi ; 
 
 Yo le mato de cruel ; 
 
 Mas, en ser lo contra el, 
 Tambien lo soy contra mi : 
 De ver-le penar asi, 
 
 Muy penada vivo yo ; 
 
 Y remedio no le do ! 
 
 More than little he loves me ; 
 
 Cruel am I, and yet a tear 
 
 Dims my loving eye, for fear 
 I kill him with cruelty : 
 Still I suffer more than he, 
 
 Seeing that he suffers so ; 
 
 Shall I own it ? No, ah no ! 
 
 Another favourite of Julia's, at that time, may be 
 rendered as follows : 
 
 I know not what this phantom is, which wanders 
 
 About the brain. 
 My lone heart knoweth not : yet darkly ponders 
 
 Upon its pain. 
 
 I hear the sad sea moaning round the bases 
 
 Of the lone hills : 
 Sad as the sea, sad memory embraces 
 
 Wide tract of ills : 
 
 Dim hopes which glimmer, like to distant mountains, 
 
 In fading light, 
 Through tears which flow, like never-failing fountains, 
 
 By day and night. 
 
 Juanita sought to gain her confidence. One day, 
 as Julia was leaving her room in the upper corridor, 
 Mta met her, and taking Julia's arm drew it round 
 her waist. 
 
 s 2 
 
260 THE AMULET. 
 
 It was the hour of noon. The great ocean stretched 
 away before them in a boundless expanse of sunlight. 
 Autumn grasses clothed the land to its very brink. 
 But below them lay the Ramada, and, on one side, 
 the log of pine for fire- wood, with the ready axe. 
 
 It recalled to each an old scene, a scene of the 
 early spring ; but the months which had intervened 
 were ages cycles through which the heart had 
 orbed, in rain and sunshine, in darkness and in 
 light. 
 
 The axe lay still. The log was at rest. But fancy 
 painted the English stranger, El yuero grande, poising 
 the bright blade in the sunlight, and ringing down 
 sharp frequent blows on the startled wood, which 
 flew to right and left in glistening wedges. 
 
 1 Gentil hombre, bien criado? said Juanita, in a low 
 voice ; * hast forgotten, Julia ? ' 
 
 * No, sweetheart.' 
 
 * Saidest then, that he was kind and brave ? Wert 
 right, love ; he is also true.' 
 
 4 True : ' and Julia sighed : for she knew too well 
 that William was kind and true. 
 
 * Tell me thy secret, love,' whispered the fair 
 tempter. 
 
 But Julia leant her face on Juanita's shoulder ; 
 and the latter could feel the hot tears in her breast, 
 as Julia murmured, * 'Twill kill me as it is. Ask me 
 no more.' 
 
 Madre talked to her lord about this sadness which 
 
OMNES EODEM COGIMUE. 261 
 
 had taken possession of Julia. ' She has no dower,' 
 said the hidalgo : ' is she not dear to us ? Let her 
 take a thousand cows.' 
 
 It was a princely dower. An Arianas was not to 
 be outdone in generosity. ' Francesca, too, shall be 
 cared for,' Madre said; 'am I not her mother?' 
 But still Julia grew paler and more languid every 
 day. 
 
 When alone in their chamber, Francesca would 
 say to her, 
 
 * Art brave, my sister ? Hast courage to be true, 
 to tell him all?' 
 
 But Julia said, ' The time is past. I should have 
 told him long since. Now he loves an Arianas : but 
 who am I ? Cruel fate ! ' 
 
 Francesca. I think 'tis thee whom he loves ; not 
 thy father, or thy mother, or any name. 
 
 Julia. Is he not caballero de su tienrra ? ' 
 
 Francesca. Is he not generous ? 
 
 Again Julia sighed. Hope had not died out, but 
 struggled faintly with despair. 
 
 And in dreamy moments, the airy castles of her 
 fancy's building were humble bowers. ' Alas ! would 
 Grod he were still the poor Gambusino, and no caballero \ 
 Then fair would be my lot. Then this taint would 
 be no bar between us. My love would fold me in his 
 arms, and I should feel the beating of that loyal 
 heart: Ah ! blessed vision, stay ! ' 
 
 But it vanished, as such frail figments will do } and 
 
262 THE AMULET. 
 
 the Senor Don Guillermo seemed to recoil from her 
 with loathing : for when love is thrown back upon 
 the heart, will it still be love ? 
 
 Then came the Senor Don Jose. He had been 
 spending a few days at the Hacienda, and came over 
 to visit his sister before returning to the capital. 
 
 He condoled with his brother-in-law concerning 
 that desdichada, the Agua Fria Mining Company. 
 The name of Don Marcos was barely mentioned ; for 
 the subject was a sore one. That speculator had 
 sold out his shares, at par, before the catastrophe 
 occurred. Why should he have neglected to warn 
 his father's friend ? 
 
 A more serious charge stood against him. Don 
 Gruillermo had traced Costinetto on El bianco to 
 Monterey. The captain of the steam- ship General 
 Jackson had sent such a passenger on board the 
 Yegua Negra, in the roadstead of Los Angeles. Don 
 Alberto, who brought the amulet to Juanita, and 
 made the false charge against Don Carlos, had sailed 
 in the yacht with Don Marcos. Nor had Costinetto 
 returned. These things looked very like the salient 
 points of a defeated conspiracy. 
 
 Don Mariano naturally supposed, as did the others 
 at Los Ojitos, that the ' old and tried friend,' of whom 
 William had assured Julia that he ' would not miss 
 the cost ' of that document which restored Los Ojitos 
 to its lord, could be none other than the Senor Don 
 Jose. 
 
 From the day and hour when he and Mariano 
 
OMNES EODEM COGIMUE. 263 
 
 had crossed swords, calidd juventd, he had been their 
 friend, though secretly, for many years, from a feel- 
 ing of filial respect. That powerful roan horse, which 
 the stout Mariano ever rode, had been bred beyond 
 Las Salinas. Messengers would come to Los Ojitos, 
 and go silently, as they came, but ever leaving some 
 token of a brother's love a trifle, perhaps, in itself, 
 in the eyes of Madre or her husband, a gem of price. 
 
 Now Mariano thought he would sound his brother, 
 and see if he would acknowledge this crowning act 
 of friendship, and receive those thanks which were 
 his due. 
 
 Mar. 'Twas a terrible loss ; a hundred thousand 
 piastres ! 
 
 Jose. Sad indeed, brother ; but thy cattle are worth 
 tenfold their ancient price. 
 
 Mar. True. But I lost more than gold. 
 
 Jose. How ? 
 
 Mar. The commissioners decided in favour of the 
 monks. 
 
 Jose. Ca-Ramba ! 
 
 Mar. I lost my RancJw. 
 
 Jose. Valga-me Dios ! : 
 
 Mar. But, walking in my garden of Las Rosas, by 
 the light of a lovely moon, there came to me a sweet 
 maiden with the title in her hand, saying, 'Dear 
 brother, I give it thee.' 
 
 Jose. Ave Maria ! 
 
 Mar. 'Twas the Rosebud. [So lie was wont to 
 call Julia.] 
 
264 THE AMULET. 
 
 Jose. A sweet flower, indeed. 
 
 Mar. A bounteous flower. 
 
 Jose. And the maid is dowerless ? 
 
 Mar. A thousand cows. Es nada. 
 
 Jose. Bueno, mi hermano ! But how came she by 
 the document ? 
 
 Astute hidalgo ! He would not part with his little 
 mystery on such easy terms. But in the afternoon, 
 being alone with Julia, he took her hand, and looking 
 at her significantly, said, 
 
 ' Wert happy at San Pedro, Tiermanita ? ' 
 
 ' I was happy,' she answered, gently. 
 
 ' The place will be sad enough without thee.' 
 
 Julia did not look up, but felt that an earnest gaze 
 was fixed upon her sad face. And a nameless dread 
 seized upon her. ' Why gave he the title to me, and 
 not to Mariano ? ' she thought. O cruel fate ! The 
 Senor Don Jose loved her. She had sold herself to 
 him. 
 
 Voices drew near. Some welcome interruption 
 was at hand. But no; the sounds passed away: 
 again she was left with her friend, and her fear. 
 
 He went on relentlessly: 'Art thankless, her- 
 manita ? ' 
 
 The thermometer in the corridor stood at ninety 
 degrees ; but Julia's gratitude was at zero. 
 
 ' I am not thankless, senor,' she said, belying her 
 heart. 
 
 'There are no flowers in my gardens of San 
 Pedro.' 
 
OMNES EODEM COGIMUE. 265 
 
 1 None.' 
 
 ' Wilt come and bloom there ? ' 
 
 ' Santa Maria ! ' she thought ; * let me die ! ' 
 
 Then she fell back upon her own heart, thinking to 
 find death lurking there. But she found courage, 
 and so spoke out, and told the Senor, bravely, a 
 dreadful secret, which none knew save her sister 
 Francesca and Don Mariano. 
 
 The Senor drew back in amazement : ' Valga-me 
 Dios!' he exclaimed this time in earnest; for he 
 was shocked and surprised. 
 
 After a little while he regained his composure. 
 ' Poor child,' he groaned, * frail flower ! Has been 
 planted on a desolate shore ! Yet take courage. 
 The man hath a noble soul, and is loyal to himself.' 
 
 It was Julia's turn to start : ' What man ? Quick ! 
 Speak ! ' 
 
 4 Don Guillermo, sister mine ; wouldst have an- 
 other ? My good friend and mayordomo, hath he 
 not loved thee ? ' 
 
 Ah ! that was music from the spheres ! And in 
 fact William had assented to the Senor's request that 
 he should reside at San Pedro, and superintend the 
 estate. 
 
 ' But the man is poor,' continued Don Jose. 
 
 * How, poor ? ' 
 
 ' Land, cattle, silver ; all are gone.' 
 
 ' Thanks to God ! I have a dower. How came he 
 
 P or? ' Bancroft Libra*? 
 
 ' Hast not guessed, simple one ? ' 
 
266 THE AMULET. 
 
 1 Guessed ? ' 
 
 ' 'Twas Ms gift lie gave thee ; his all : I knew it not/ 
 
 Mother of God ! I thank tla.ee.' 
 
 And Julia sat still, and wept and prayed. Don 
 Jose rose and left her. She saw him not. Her 
 heart and soul and eyes were full to overflowing. 
 
 The sagacious reader has anticipated this little 
 disclosure, doubtless. 
 
 When "William rode to Monterey in quest of the 
 amulet, startling intelligence reached him. Thence 
 he rode post-haste to San Luiz, and called upon Don 
 Bernardo. That merchant, knowing that the title to 
 Los Ojitos would revert to the Franciscan monks if 
 Don Mariano failed to satisfy the commissioners, had 
 speculated. He had bought the contingency of the 
 monks. 
 
 Underrating its value, or anxious to serve an old 
 friend and client, he instructed William to offer the 
 contingency to Mariano for $12,000. William con- 
 sidered $10,000 a fairer sum. They discussed the 
 difference, and finally agreed to divide it. William 
 closed at once, to the astonishment of Don Bernardo, 
 who pocketed William's order on Messrs. Davidson 
 and May for $11,000. 
 
 But poor William rode away with a certain docu- 
 ment in his pocket, and nothing more ; for in giving 
 that fatal order to the merchant he had overdrawn 
 his account by some $500. 
 
 Now the Dona Julia was haunted by the words of 
 Don Jose, ' The man hath a noble soul, and is loyal 
 
OMNES EODEM COGIMUR. 267 
 
 to himself.' Truly. But to love her, who had gained 
 his love in a false guise : would not his loyal heart 
 shrink from such a juggle ? 
 
 At least, she had not sought to gain his love. 
 There was comfort in that thought. ' The just man 
 will do me justice. He will pity me ; and pity is akin 
 to love.' 
 
 Sometimes she would cry out against the injustice 
 of her lot. Then feeling that a wisdom above her 
 ken had decreed it, she prayed for grace to bear it ; 
 and again comfort came to her. 
 
 In the meanwhile Don Guillermo had returned 
 to the little rancho. The new casa was finished. 
 Don Carlos was now here, now there. His move- 
 ments were no longer restricted. The Seiior Don 
 Jose, coming down to his estate, again urged William 
 to come and reside there, as his mayordomo. 
 
 From sundry hints which the hidalgo let fall, 
 William fancied that before long a young wife would 
 come to reign supreme at San Pedro. His suspicions 
 rested on Clem. What more probable ? Indeed, he 
 had seen, or thought he had seen, the partiality with 
 which Don Jose regarded his little friend. 
 
 But now the talk was all of Los Ojitos. Clem 
 was never alluded to. Julia, or hints which implied 
 something concerning that lady, fell from the hidalgo's 
 lips. Could it be ? 
 
 The more William thought of it, the less impro- 
 bable it seemed. Julia's evident wish to discourage 
 
268 THE AMULET. 
 
 William's suit deepened his impression that she had 
 given her heart to another. When he told her that 
 it was an old and tried friend who had intrusted him 
 with a document for her, how gladly she took it ! He 
 had played into his rival's hands. She loved him, 
 and to bring this about the prudent man had ruined 
 himself. 
 
 And now he must go there and live as this man's 
 bailiff, and see her happy. ' Could I bear it ? ' he 
 asked of himself. * What ? not endure that she 
 should have nought to endure ; not bear to see her 
 happy ? ' 
 
 So he consented to the proposal of Don Jose. 
 
 One thing William had decided on long ago. Ex- 
 perience had led him to the resolve, that neither joy 
 nor grief should have it their own way with him. 
 ' So long as I am master, let it stay,' he thought : ' if 
 it be joy, so ; if grief, why so. One gets good out 
 of either.' 
 
 But when the Senor was gone, William's heart 
 spoke out plainly. This trial would be more than he 
 could bear. The very prospect was madness. 
 
 Once more he took his friend into council ; and 
 this time the other did not administer to him bitter 
 pills, but sweet. 
 
 C. You have bound my tongue for five months, 
 Will ; but now I tell you, as before, the girl loves you, 
 and no other. If she marries another, thereafter say 
 'Mea culpa.' 
 
 W. B. The proof ? 
 
OMNE-S EODEM COGIMUR. 269 
 
 C. A hundred signs. Do you remember saying 
 that you preferred a natural wreath ? [William 
 nodded.] Well, I have never seen her without one 
 since. It is a sprig of willow now. [And William 
 remembered that, on his visit to Los Angeles, it had 
 been a spray of jasmine.] When I speak of you, she 
 is all agog ; or if she finds that we have been talking 
 about ' ellos por dentro ' in her absence, she will take 
 Juanita's hand, and fondle it, and say, ' What was it, 
 Nina ? ' [A long pause.} I'll tell you another thing 
 which happened, the last time I was over there. 
 Madre said, ' Will Don Gruillermo never come again? ' 
 and I was hypocrite enough to say, ' I fear not.' 
 Julia was sitting back in the shade, but I saw her 
 start, as she often does now, and another little sign 
 I know ; so I went to her and said, ' Give me one 
 word, then.' But all she said was ' No, no ; ' which 
 I take to mean * Yes ; ' and if I were you, I'd go. 
 
 W. B. Will you come with me ? 
 
 And their two hands closed, as the strength of one : 
 while the eyes of each sought the other's heart, and 
 found it full of manly love. 
 
 Here it is worthy of our notice that a thought of 
 4 ways and means ' never came between William and 
 his object. He was absolutely without property, un- 
 less a few cows and a brood-mare or two, with 
 sundry bushels of maize or barley, could be raised 
 to that rank. Nor did he dream of Julia's magnificent 
 dower. 
 
 Happy man ! who valued love more than gold, and 
 
270 THE AMULET. 
 
 trusted to his strong arm and stout heart for all that 
 'life needs for life.' 
 
 The days of January are warm in that latitude : 
 but when the sun sets, a cold wind from the north- 
 west sweeps down the coast. 
 
 The ' family circle ' were assembled in the Estrado, 
 at Los Ojitos, with closed doors, and a bright wood 
 fire on the hearth. The Senores Don Jose and Don 
 Mariano were playing chess, with a celebrated set of 
 Chinese ivories which had been presented to the latter 
 gentleman in the spring of the former year. Don 
 Esteban was thrumming on a guitar, now and again 
 trolling out the verse of a song, anxious for the dull 
 game to be ended ; but Madre watched the mimic 
 war with interest. 
 
 The three younger ladies were sitting at work : 
 but Juanita had left a skein of silk up- stairs. * The 
 night is cold,' she said ; * I wish Don Carlos would 
 return and bring his friend,' she added, turning a 
 little, to look at Julia. But Julia had left the room 
 noiselessly, to seek the skein of silk. 
 
 As the Dona sped along the corridor, the moon 
 peered through a drifting mist ; and in its uncertain 
 light she came upon a tall figure, leaning against a 
 column. She started back as if she had seen a ghost. 
 
 1 JULIA ! ' 
 
 At that well-remembered voice she drew near and 
 extended her hand. How her heart palpitated ! ' Pass 
 in, senor,' she quavered, scarce knowing what she said. 
 
OMNES EODEM COGIMUE. 271 
 
 ' No : 'tis better so.' And turning his broad back 
 to the wind, William sheltered her. 
 
 ' Art cold and wet,' she pleaded ; dropping the 
 usted and the proprieties, in her agitation. 
 
 ' It matters not, if thou art warm.' 
 
 He drew her nearer. She nestled in his breast, 
 like a fledgling, in perfect simple trust. The man 
 was so noble and true : what could she do less ? 
 
 * Forgive me ! forgive me ! ' she sobbed. ' Dear 
 friend great heart and true : I have let thee love 
 me, and am unworthy of thy love.' 
 
 ' How art thou unworthy ? ' he asked, holding her 
 off a little. 
 
 Her eyes flashed, and her cheek flushed, in that 
 searching gaze. 
 
 ' I dare not speak,' she said. 
 
 ' Speak out, love be the truth never so bitter. 
 Art forgiven long before.' 
 
 ' I am not what I seem.' 
 
 A shudder went through the strong frame of Wil- 
 liam. Perhaps it was the blast of the north-west 
 wind. Yet he stood firm. ' What then ?' he asked. 
 
 ' My father sinned.' 
 
 ' Take courage, sweetheart ! ' 
 
 ' My mother was a Pueblo girl.' And she covered 
 her face with her hands. 
 
 But William drew her to his side again. ' Love is 
 love,' he murmurecj. in her ear; 'thy father's sin is 
 nought to me. Let us thank God we are pure.' 
 
 And William's heart was relieved of a mighty load : 
 
272 THE AMULET. 
 
 for Julia's manner had been so agitated, and her dis- 
 tress so great, that he feared some disclosure more 
 terrible than this. 
 
 Her tears were flowing so fast now that she could 
 not see him. The mists fled the moon shone out 
 brightly : but she wept and wept, till all memory of 
 doubt, distrust, and sorrow had passed away, and 
 left her abiding in the strong arms of love, then and 
 for ever. 
 
 And now my tale is well-nigh ended. William's 
 first suspicions concerning the probability of an alli- 
 ance between Clem and the Senor Don Jose were 
 better founded than those which usurped their place. 
 That lady now reigns supreme at San Pedro, where 
 probably the cares of a rising generation have tended 
 to impair her epistolary powers. 
 
 Long after her union to the lord of San Pedro, and 
 two other alliances which took place at the same 
 time, the Dona Clem discovered that the little amber 
 cross had come into her possession by very tortuous 
 advances. She therefore returned it to the rightful 
 owner, who thus ascertained that Don Carlos had not 
 perpetrated the infidelity for which she had given 
 him credit, and forgiven him more than once. 
 
 The thousand cows which Dona Julia had for her 
 dower were deported across that ridge of the Coast 
 Range known as Las Salinas ; and to the present day 
 goodly herds may be seen roaming the pastures be- 
 tween those mountains and the Sierra del Monte 
 Diablo, marked with the brand IB. 
 
OMNES EODEM COGIMUR. 273 
 
 Costinetto, the Grentile, did not return to San 
 Pedro, but is supposed to be passing his declining 
 years on the estate of San Bias, in Sonora. The 
 proprietor of that domain has consoled himself for 
 the loss of his intended bride : and Don Carlos has 
 forgiven Don Alberto his complicity with that cava- 
 lier. When one is prosperous, it is so easy to forgive. 
 
 Don Bernardo, the merchant, on the other hand, 
 has never been so cordial with his countryman, since 
 William drove such a hard bargain with him for the 
 contingent title to Los Ojitos. He expresses himself 
 as rejoiced that the estate should have reverted to 
 that arch-heretic Don Mariano Arianas. But to steal 
 a march upon a fellow-countryman is unpardonable. 
 
 Lastly, the amulet is still worn by Don Carlos. 
 That romantic person has quite convinced himself of 
 its miraculous properties, and consults it, and seeks 
 the aid of the venerable La Forina, on many interest- 
 ing occasions. 
 
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