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her　hand　for　the　letter；　the　American　took　her　little　fingers；

kissed　them；　and　said：



〃How　are　you　again？〃



〃The　letter；〃　replied　Juanita；　with　a　strong　disposition　to　stamp

her　foot。



〃But；〃　said　Cranch；　with　business　directness；　〃you've　read　enough

to　know　it　isn't　for　you。〃



〃Nor　for　you　either；〃　responded　Juanita。



〃True。　　It　is　for　the　Reverend　Father　Superior　of　San　Jose　Mission。

I'll　give　it　to　him。〃



Juanita　was　becoming　alarmed；　first　at　this　prospect；　second　at　the

power　the　stranger　seemed　to　be　gaining　over　her。　　She　recalled

Francisco's　description　of　him　with　something　like　superstitious

awe。



〃But　it　concerns　Francisco。　　It　contains　a　secret　he　should　know。〃



〃Then　you　can　tell　him　it。　　Perhaps　it　would　come　easier　from　you。〃



Juanita　blushed　again。　　〃Why？〃　she　asked；　half　dreading　his　reply。



〃Because；〃　said　the　American；　quietly；　〃you　are　old　playmates；　you

are　attached　to　each　other。〃



Juanita　bit　her　lips。　　〃Why　don't　you　read　it　yourself？〃　she　asked

bluntly。



〃Because　I　don't　read　other　people's　letters；　and　if　it　concerns　me

you'll　tell　me。〃



〃What　if　I　don't？〃



〃Then　the　Father　Superior　will。〃



〃I　believe　you　know　Francisco's　secret　already；〃　said　the　girl；

boldly。



〃Perhaps。〃



〃Then；　Mother　of　God！　Senor　Crancho；　what　do　you　want？〃



〃I　do　not　want　to　separate　two　such　good　friends　as　you　and

Francisco。〃



〃Perhaps　you'd　like　to　claim　us　both；〃　said　the　girl；　with　a　sneer

that　was　not　devoid　of　coquetry。



〃I　should　be　delighted。〃



〃Then　here　is　your　occasion；　Senor；　for　here　comes　my　adopted

father；　Don　Juan；　and　your　friend；　Senor　Brrown；　the　American

alcalde。〃



Two　men　appeared　in　the　garden　path　below　them。　　The　stiff；　glazed；

broad…brimmed　black　hat；　surmounting　a　dark　face　of　Quixotic

gravity　and　romantic　rectitude；　indicated　Don　Juan　Briones。　　His

companion；　lazy；　specious；　and　red…faced；　was　Senor　Brown；　the

American　alcalde。



〃Well；　I　reckon　we　kin　about　call　the　thing　fixed；〃　said　Senor

Brown；　with　a　large　wave　of　the　hand；　suggesting　a　sweeping　away　of

all　trivial　details。　　〃Ez　I　was　saying　to　the　Don　yer；　when　two

high…toned　gents　like　you　and　him　come　together　in　a　delicate

matter　of　this　kind；　it　ain't　no　hoss　trade　nor　sharp　practice。

The　Don　is　that　lofty　in　principle　that　he's　willin'　to　sacrifice

his　affections　for　the　good　of　the　gal；　and　you；　on　your　hand；

kalkilate　to　see　all　he's　done　for　her；　and　go　your　whole　pile

better。　　You'll　make　the　legal　formalities　good。　　I　reckon　that　old

Injin　woman　who　can　swear　to　the　finding　of　the　baby　on　the　shore

will　set　things　all　right　yet。　　For　the　matter　o'　that；　if　you　want

anything　in　the　way　of　a　certificate；　I'm　on　hand　always。〃



〃Juanita　and　myself　are　at　your　disposition；　caballeros；〃　said　Don

Juan；　with　a　grave　exaltation。　　〃Never　let　it　be　said　that　the

Mexican　nation　was　outdone　by　the　great　Americanos　in　deeds　of

courtesy　and　affection。　　Let　it　rather　stand　that　Juanita　was　a

sacred　trust　put　into　my　hands　years　ago　by　the　goddess　of　American

liberty；　and　nurtured　in　the　Mexican　eagle's　nest。　　Is　it　not　so；

my　soul？〃　he　added；　more　humanly；　to　the　girl；　when　he　had　quite

recovered　from　the　intoxication　of　his　own　speech。　　〃We　love　thee；

little　one；　but　we　keep　our　honor。〃



〃There's　nothing　mean　about　the　old　man；〃　said　Brown；　admiringly；

with　a　slight　dropping　of　his　left　eyelid；　〃his　head　is　level；　and

he　goes　with　his　party。〃



〃Thou　takest　my　daughter；　Senor　Cranch；〃　continued　the　old　man；

carried　away　by　his　emotion；　〃but　the　American　nation　gives　me　a

son。〃



〃You　know　not　what　you　say；　father；〃　said　the　young　girl；　angrily；

exasperated　by　a　slight　twinkle　in　the　American's　eye。



〃Not　so；〃　said　Cranch。　　〃Perhaps　one　of　the　American　nation　may

take　him　at　his　word。〃



〃Then；　caballeros；　you　will；　for　the　moment　at　least；　possess

yourselves　of　the　house　and　its　poor　hospitality；〃　said　Don　Juan；

with　time…honored　courtesy；　producing　the　rustic　key　of　the　gate　of

the　patio。　　〃It　is　at　your　disposition；　caballeros；〃　he　repeated；

leading　the　way　as　his　guests　passed　into　the　corridor。



Two　hours　passed。　　The　hills　were　darkening　on　their　eastern

slopes；　the　shadows　of　the　few　poplars　that　sparsedly　dotted　the

dusty　highway　were　falling　in　long　black　lines　that　looked　like

ditches　on　the　dead　level　of　the　tawny　fields；　the　shadows　of

slowly　moving　cattle　were　mingling　with　their　own　silhouettes；　and

becoming　more　and　more　grotesque。　　A　keen　wind　rising　in　the　hills

was　already　creeping　from　the　canada　as　from　the　mouth　of　a　funnel；

and　sweeping　the　plains。　　Antonio　had　forgathered　with　the

servants；　had　pinched　the　ears　of　the　maids；　had　partaken　of

aguardiente；　had　saddled　the　mules；Antonio　was　becoming

impatient。



And　then　a　singular　commotion　disturbed　the　peaceful　monotony　of

the　patriarchal　household　of　Don　Juan　Briones。　　The　stagnant

courtyard　was　suddenly　alive　with　peons　and　servants；　running

hither　and　thither。　　The　alleys　and　gardens　were　filled　with

retainers。　　A　confusion　of　questions；　orders；　and　outcrys　rent　the

air；　the　plains　shook　with　the　galloping　of　a　dozen　horsemen。　　For

the　acolyte　Francisco；　of　the　Mission　San　Carmel；　had　disappeared

and　vanished；　and　from　that　day　the　hacienda　of　Don　Juan　Briones

knew　him　no　more。





CHAPTER　III





When　Father　Pedro　saw　the　yellow　mules　vanish　under　the　low

branches　of　the　oaks　beside　the　little　graveyard；　caught　the　last

glitter　of　the　morning　sun　on　Pinto's　shining　headstall；　and　heard

the　last　tinkle　of　Antonio's　spurs；　something　very　like　a　mundane

sigh　escaped　him。　　To　the　simple　wonder　of　the　majority　of　early

worshipersthe　half…breed　converts　who　rigorously　attended　the

spiritual　ministrations　of　the　Mission；　and　ate　the　temporal

provisions　of　the　reverend　fathershe　deputed　the　functions　of　the

first　mass　to　a　coadjutor；　and；　breviary　in　hand；　sought　the

orchard　of　venerable　pear　trees。　　Whether　there　was　any　occult

sympathy　in　his　reflections　with　the　contemplation　of　their

gnarled；　twisted；　gouty；　and　knotty　limbs；　still　bearing　gracious

and　goodly　fruit；　I　know　not；　but　it　was　his　private　retreat；　and

under　one　of　the　most　rheumatic　and　misshapen　trunks　there　was　a

rude　seat。　　Here　Father　Pedro　sank；　his　face　towards　the　mountain

wall　between　him　and　the　invisible　sea。　　The　relentless；　dry；

practical　Californian　sunlight　falling　on　his　face　grimly　pointed

out　a　night　of　vigil　and　suffering。　　The　snuffy　yellow　of　his　eyes

was　injected　yet　burning；　his　temples　were　ridged　and　veined　like　a

tobacco　leaf；　the　odor　of　desiccation　which　his　garments　always

exhaled　was　hot　and　feverish；　as　if　the　fire　had　suddenly　awakened

among　the　ashes。



Of　what　was　Father　Pedro　thinking？



He　was　thinking　of　his　youth；　a　youth　spent　under　the　shade　of

those　pear　trees；　even　then　venerable　as　now。　　He　was　thinking　of

his　youthful　dreams　of　heathen　conquest；　emulating　the　sacrifices

and　labors　of　Junipero　Serra；　a　dream　cut　short　by　the　orders　of

the　archbishop；　that　sent　his　companion；　Brother　Diego；　north　on　a

mission　to　strange　lands；　and　condemned　him　to　the　isolation　of　San

Carmel。　　He　was　thinking　of　that　fierce　struggle　with　envy　of　a

fellow　creature's　better　fortune　that；　conquered　by　prayer　and

penance；　left　him　patient；　submissive；　and　devoted　to　his　humble

work；　how　he　raised　up　converts　to　the　faith；　even　taking　them　from

the　breast　of　heretic　mothers。



He　recalled　how　once；　with　the　zeal　of　propagandism　quickening　in

the　instincts　of　a　childless　man；　he　had　dreamed　of　perpetuating

his　work　through　some　sinless　creation　of　his　own；　of　dedicating

some　virgin　soul；　one　over　whom　he　could　have　complete　control；

restricted　by　no　human　paternal　weakness；　to　the　task　he　had　begun。

But　how？　　Of　all　the　boys　eagerly　offered　to　the　Church　by　their

parents　there　seemed　none　sufficiently　pure　and　free　from　parental

taint。　　He　remembered　how　one　night；　through　the　intercession　of

the　Blessed　Virgin　herself；　as　he　firmly　then　believed；　this　dream

was　fulfilled。　　An　Indian　woman　brought　him　a　Waugee　childa　baby…

girl　that　she　had　picked　up　on　the　sea…shore。　　There　were　no

parents　to　divide　the　responsibility；　the　child　had　no　past　to

confront；　except　the　memory　of　the　ignorant　Indian　woman；　who

deemed　her　duty　done；　and　whose　interest　ceased　in　giving　it　to　the

Padre。　　The　austere　conditions　of　his　monkish　life　compelled　him　to

the　first　step　in　his　adoption　of　itthe　concealment　of　its　sex。

This　was　easy　enough；　as　he　constituted　himself　from　that　moment

its　sole　nurse　and　attendant；　and　boldly　baptized　it　among　the

other　children　by　the　name　of　Francisco。　　No　others　knew　its

origin；　nor　cared　to　know。　　Father　Pedro　had　taken　a　muchacho

foundling　for　adoption；　his　jealous　seclusion　of　it　and　his

personal　care　was　doubtless　some　sacerdotal　formula