The señora, the padre and the Mexicans made Yerba Buena safely, and found the little town in uproar over the astounding escapade of a señora who had persuaded good, sane fishermen to go with her to sure death.
Father and sons escaped from congratulating friends to the seclusion of their cot where, with the mother, they rejoiced over their good fortune. Not only were they safe after an experience over which Yerba Buena was to talk for a decade, but that most wealthy señor the ships' treasurer had given each ten gold sovereigns for himself, besides paying the sire the one hundred sovereigns promised by the señora.
Señora Valentino was indefatigable as well as intrepid. Soon, with the friar and Farquharson, she was dashing on horseback down the peninsula toward Monterey.
"So you read my note to Señora Aguirre," she remarked to Farquharson.
"I did, and learned of your purpose to go out to the fleet. Finding at the Mexican settlement that you had actually put this purpose into effect I got a boat and was just pushing off to follow you when a provost marshal placed me under arrest. Confound him! as if I didn't have a right to do as I pleased, stormy or not! And that blasted comandante held me at the presidio till your return."
"Then you also were coming to the flagship? No?"
"Señora, I never dreamed you would think of such a thing as going out there by yourself. I've never felt so small in my life. It would be a relief if I was lying at the bottom of the harbor."
"Not so, Captain. It was a mad thing, my venturing forth; but, you know, when a woman wills she will. So, no fault in you, Captain mine. Pray think no more of it. As we ride along I'll tell you more of my meeting with Fairbanks after I—tumbled on board his vessel."
They reached the high ground near the Laguna de las Mercedes, two leagues beyond Mission Dolores. A deep-voiced exclamation from Padre Osuna, accompanied by a full-arm gesture, directed their attention to the right. The ocean, as if making amends for violent temper of the past days, lay in unruffled mood before them. The eleven vessels of the fleet, spread white against sapphire arc, were sailing to the south.
Farquharson's eyes, an admiring light in them, sought the señora.