The spirit of the air paused again.
"Señora, if you mean, by any chance, that I should send a boat out, why, only a madman would go. Besides Comandante Pacheco would permit no boat to leave the presidio; and the alcalde would do the same for Yerba Buena village."
Time passed. The señora suddenly spurred her horse. The startled animal leaped forward. "Come, Captain, let us go to town," she called, already several lengths ahead.
They rode persistently on till they reached a small shed far down where they stopped for rest.
"Perdition on this inactivity! If we could only do something—anything to fill in the time in this dead little hole."
"Yes, Captain," in a detached voice.
"I have a suggestion. My good hostess, Señora Ramon, showed me yesterday a chess-board most remarkable in workmanship, brought by the señor her husband from Spain years ago. They spend many evenings over the game, she tells me. Let us borrow the board and its men and while away a few hours. At least with these we can have the satisfaction of planning—and executing—our own maneuvers. I wish we had done this before, instead of indulging in useless, nerve-wracking vigils."
"Thank you, Captain, but I—I shall be otherwise engaged this afternoon."
"I understand, señora. You do, truly, need a good rest. Excuse me for my thoughtlessness. I know you are worn out. I believe, now that I think of it, I'll follow your example, go to my quarters and turn in for a time myself."
After partaking of a warm luncheon which her friend Señora Aguirre had prepared, the señora went to her room. In the home of Señor Ramon, at the other end of the village, the Captain settled himself for a siesta. Not so the señora. Tying her hair closely, she put on a long, thick cloak which she carefully buttoned, placing the hood on her head and well down over her ears; lastly, a veil around her face. Then she wrote a short note.