The Doomswoman: An Historical Romance of Old California

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by Gertrude Franklin Horn Atherton


  XXVIII.

  Before going to Mexico, Estenega remained for some weeks at hisranchos in the North, overlooking the slaughtering of his cattle, animportant yearly event, for the trade in hides and tallow with foreignshippers was the chief source of the Californian's income. He also wasassociated with the Russians at Fort Ross and Bodega in the fur-trade.But he was far from being satisfied with these desultory gains. Theysufficed his private wants, but with the great schemes he had in mindhe needed gold by the bushel. How to obtain it was a problem which saton the throne of his mind side by side with Chonita Iturbi y Moncada.He had reason to believe that gold lay under California; but where? Hedetermined that upon his return from Mexico he would take measuresto discover, although he objected to the methods which alone could beemployed. But, like all born rulers of men, he had an impatient scornfor means with a great end in view. There was no intermediate way ofmaking the money. It would be a hundred years before the country wouldbe populous enough to give his vast ranchos a reasonable value; and,although he had twenty thousand head of cattle, the market for theirdisposal was limited, and barter was the principle of trade, ratherthan coin.

  Toward the end of the month he hurried to Monterey to catch a barkabout to sail for Mexico. The important preliminaries of the futurehe had planned could no longer be delayed; the treacherous revengefulnature of Reinaldo might at any moment awake from the spell in whichhe had locked it; had a ship sailed before, he would have left hiscommercial interests with his mayor-domo and gone to the seat ofgovernment at once.

  He arrived in Monterey one evening after hard riding. The city wassingularly quiet. It was the hour when the indefatigable dancers ofthat gay town should have flitted past the open windows of the salas,when the air should have been vocal with the flute and guitar, songand light laughter. But the city might have been a living tomb. Thewhite rayless houses were heavy and silent as sepulchers. He rodeslowly down Alvarado Street, and saw the advancing glow of a cigar.When the cigar was abreast of him he recognized Mr. Larkin.

  "What is the matter?" he asked.

  "Small-pox," replied the consul, succinctly. "Better get on boardat once. And steer clear of the lower quarter. Your vaqueroarrived yesterday, and I instructed him to put your baggage in thecustom-house. He dropped it and fled to the country."

  Estenega thanked him and proceeded on his way. He made a circuit toavoid the lower quarter, but saw that it was not abandoned; lightsmoved here and there. "Poor creatures!" he thought, "they are probablydying like poisoned rats."

  On the side of the hill by the road was a solitary hut. He was obligedto pass it. A candle burned beyond the open window, and he set hislips and turned his head; not from fear of contagion, however. And hiseyes were drawn to the window in spite of his resolute will. He lookedonce, and looked again, then checked his horse. On the bed lay agirl in the middle stages of the disease, her eyes glittering withdelirium, her black hair matted and wet. She was evidently alone.Estenega spurred his horse and galloped around to the back of the hut.In the kitchen, the only other room, huddled an old crone, brown andgnarled like an old apple. She was sleeping; by her side was a bottleof aguardiente. Estenega called loudly to her.

  "Susana!"

  The creature stirred, but did not open her eyes. He called twiceagain, and awakened her. She stared through the open door, her lowerjaw falling, showing the yellow stumps.

  "Who is?"

  "Is Anita alone with you?"

  "Ay, yi! Don Diego! Yes, yes. All run from the house like rats froma ship that burns. Ay, yi! Ay, yi! and she so pretty before! A-y,y-i!--" Her head fell forward; she relapsed into stupor.

  Estenega rode around to the window again. The girl was sitting on theedge of the bed, mechanically pulling the long matted strands of herhair.

  "Water! water!" she cried, faintly. "Ay, Mary!" She strove to rise,but fell back, clutching at the bedclothing.

  Estenega rode to a deserted hut near by, concealed his saddle ina corner under a heap of rubbish, and turned his horse loose. Hereturned to the hut where the sick girl lay, and entered the room. Sherecognized him in spite of her fever.

  "Don Diego! Is it you?--you?" she said, half raising herself. "Ay,Mary! is it the delirium?"

  "It is I," he said. "I will take care of you. Do you want water?"

  "Ay, water. Ay, thou wert always kind, even though thy love did lastso little a while."

  He brought the water and did what he could to relieve her sufferings:like all the rancheros, he had some knowledge of medicine. He held theold crone under the pump, gave her an emetic, broke her bottle, andordered her to help him care for the girl. Between awe of him andpromise of gold, she gave him some assistance.

  Estenega watched the vessel sail the next morning, and battled withthe impulse to leap from the window, hire a boat, and overtake it. Thedelay of a month might mean the death of his hopes. For all he knew,the bark carried the letters of his undoing; Reinaldo himself mightbe on it. He set his lips with an expression of bitter contempt--theexpression directed at his own impotence in the hands ofCircumstance,--and went to the bedside of the girl. She was hopelesslyill; even medical skill, were there such a thing in the country, couldnot save her; but he could not leave to die like a dog a woman who hadbeen his mistress, even if only the fancy of a week, as this poorgirl had been. She had loved him, and never annoyed him; they hadmaintained friendly relations, and he had helped her whenever she hadappealed to him. But in this hour of her extremity she had furtherrights, and he recognized them. He had cut her hair close to her head,and she looked more comfortable, although an unpleasant sight. As heregarded her, he thought of Chonita, and the tide of love rose in himas it had not before. In the beginning he had been hardly more thaninfatuated with her originality and her curious beauty; at SantaBarbara her sweetness and kinship had stolen into him and themomentous fusion of passion and spiritual love had given new birthto a torpid soul and stirred and shaken his manhood as lust hadnever done; now in her absence and exaltation above common mortals hereverenced her as an ideal. Even in the bitterness of the knowledgethat months must elapse before he could see her again, the tendernessshe had drawn to herself from the serious depths of his naturethrobbed throughout him, and made him more than gentle to the poorcreature whose ignorance could not have comprehended the least of whathe felt for Chonita.

  She died within three days. The good priest, who stood to his post andmade each of his afflicted poor a brief daily visit, prayed by heras she fell into stupor, but she was incapable of receiving extremeunction. Estenega was alone with her when she died, but the priestreturned a few moments later.

  "Don Thomas Larkin wishes me to say to you, Don Diego Estenega," saidthe Father, "that he would be glad to have you stay with him until thenext vessel arrives. As two members of his family have the disease, hehas nothing to fear from you. I will care for the body."

  Estenega handed him money for the burial, and looked at himspeculatively. The priest must have heard the girl's confessions, andhe wondered why he did not improve the opportunity to reprove a manwhose indifference to the Church was a matter of indignant commentamong the clergy. The priest appeared to divine his thoughts, for hesaid:

  "Thou hast done more than thy duty, Don Diego. And to the frailties ofmen I think the good God is merciful. He made them. Go in peace."

  Estenega accepted Mr. Larkin's invitation, but, in spite of the genialsociety of the consul, he spent in his house the most wretched threeweeks of his life. He dared not leave Monterey until he had passed thetime of incubation, having no desire to spread the disease; he darednot write to Chonita, for the same reason. What must she think? Shesupposed him to have sailed, of course, but he had promised to writeher from Monterey, and again from San Diego. And the uncertaintyregarding his Mexican affairs was intolerable to a man of his activemind and supertense nervous system. His only comfort lay in Mr.Larkin's assurance that the national bark Joven Guipuzcoana was duewithin the month and would return at once. Early in the fourth weekthe assuranc
e was fulfilled, and by the time he was ready to sailagain his danger from contagion was over. But he embarked withoutwriting to Chonita.

  The voyage lasted a month, tedious and monotonous, more trying thanhis retardation on land, for there at least he could recover someserenity by violent exercise. He divided his time between pacingthe deck, when the weather permitted, and writing to Chonita: long,intimate, possessing letters, which would reveal her to herself asnothing else, short of his own dominant contact, could do. At San Blashe posted his letters and welcomed the rough journey overland to thecapital; but under a calm exterior he was possessed of the spirit ofdisquiet. As so often happens, however, his fears proved to have beenvagaries of a morbid state of mind and of that habit of thought whichwould associate with every cause an effect of similar magnitude. SantaAna welcomed him with friendly enthusiasm, and was ready to listen tohis plans. That wily and astute politician, who was always abreast ofprogress and never in its lead, recognized in Estenega the coming man,and, knowing that the seizure of the Californias by the United Stateswas only a question of time, was keenly willing to make an ally ofthe man who he foresaw would control them as long as he chose, bothat home and in Washington. For the matter of that, he recognizedthe impotence of Mexico to interfere, beyond bluster, with plans anyresolute Californian might choose to pursue; but it was important toEstenega's purpose that the governorship should be assured to him bythe central government, and the eyes of the Mexican Congress directedelsewhere. He knew the value of the moral effect which its apparentsanction would have upon rebellious Southerners.

  "I am at your service," said Santa Ana; "and the governorship isyours. But take heed that no rumor of your ultimate intentions reachesthe ears of Congress until you are firmly established. If it opposedyou relentlessly--and it keeps its teeth on California like a dog ona bone bigger than himself--I should have to yield; I have too muchat stake myself. I will look out that any communications from enemies,including Iturbi y Moncada, are opened first by me."

  Estenega wrote to Chonita again by the ship that left during his briefstay in the capital, and it was his intention to go directly toSanta Barbara upon arriving in California. But when he landed inMonterey--disinfected and careless as of old--he learned that she wasabout to start, perhaps already had done so, for Fort Ross, to pay avisit to the Rotscheffs. The news gave him pleasure; it had been hiswish to say what he had yet to say in his own forests.

  And then the plan which had been stirring restlessly in his mind formany months took imperative shape: he determined that if there wasgold in California he would wring the secret out of its keeper, bygentle means or violent, and that within the next twenty-four hours.

 

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