"Of course." The two joined their laughter.
"Mendoza's peons were scouring the woods last night for the officers. Our fellows furnished them plenty of information. It didn't lead them to Miramonte's house, you may be sure." Again the forest echoed the sound of their laughter.
"Well," from the señora, "our two worthies set out comfortably enough this morning, after early breakfast with us. Alberto, the Miramonte's peon, guides them to Señor Mendoza. Alberto," lifting her eyebrows, "understands English. When a lad, a religious-minded gringo tallow-trader captain took him to Boston, and had him educated, hoping he would become a missionary here of the tallow-trader's faith. Instead he reverted to the ordinary peon, and an ardent Americano hater, into the bargain."
"Fortunately for us. It was simply invaluable that he was present the other day at that Billings-O'Donnell talk at Half Moon bay, and thus found out about the appointment to meet at Mendoza's last night. But," laughing a little, yet serious, "I'm anxious as to what happened last night at Miramonte's."
"Just one more question, Captain. In what frame of mind was Padre Osuna when you last saw him?"
"You have swung him to our side, señora, for the second time. But he forced from Fairbanks and me papers giving these natives extraordinary rights when the country is ours."
"The padre is where now, do you judge?"
"Somewhere near San Luis Obispo. He travels like the whirlwind. Yesterday he swept the crowd off its feet when he spoke from the church steps at Monterey. They cheered and stormed for English rule. His discourse over, he set off for the south with the impetuosity of a crusader."
"Very well, my Captain, we have done our part. It remains for Fairbanks to do his."
"Now, señora, why was it you sent the hurried messenger last night? What did Billings say that you thought such haste necessary?"