"No, nothing, possibly because they may have nothing in mind to do. I spoke both to Zelaya and to Higuera. I think, Captain, they are an army with guns spiked. Yet, we must not relax until California becomes British territory."
"You say truly, señora. Admiral Fairbanks's fleet reached San Diego last week. Shortly he will anchor in the little bay north of Yerba Buena, where Francis Drake is believed to have sojourned. We will keep in touch with Fairbanks, and his ships will take possession of this province when the right moment comes; that is, when the people call aloud for it."
"A wise captain!"
"Tell me, señora, what of Morando? We have thought it well to bring high office within his reach. Now, what was his part in last night's victory?"
"He favors retaining the old ideals which Spain presented to all the New World provinces that she has settled."
"Yes, yes; let them be retained. But the present and great question? Did he stand by your side or Mendoza's?"
The lady bit her lip. "His steps found middle ground."
"Zounds; lady! Do you mean he is half-hearted?"
"I will tell you, señor. He is a Spaniard who has left the mother country for this wider field; nevertheless, he is a Spaniard, and he can never become English."
"He is welcome to remain the Spaniard in sentiment. Politically, however, he can be English. Is he different from the scores who last night declared for England?"