"How did you manage?" he asked.
"By making appeal both to his less worthy nature and to his higher."
"How do you mean?"
"First, by arousing jealousy, convincing him that a California republic would surely make Mendoza its president. Second, in appealing to his nobler side. I said to him that a California republic would mean internecine strife—Monterey, the brain and heart of the province, fighting the north and the south, its hands and feet. So between the two arguments the cause was won."
"You actually induced him to go home?"
"He has gone," smiling. "Sister Clarinda aided me, a wife's influence, you know."
Farquharson wrinkled his forehead knowingly.
Together they returned to the castle. The little knot of people anxiously gathered around them. To their excited questionings the señora replied: "All's well that ends well."
"Your meaning, señora?" asked one.
"That we've nothing to do now—but disperse the fog."