"Then what comes, Señor Mendoza?"

"There comes that which we ourselves make. On an ethical foundation of the highest order must we build our body politic. Then, when our province becomes free, some protecting nation will extend to us a sister's hand. If in this fruitful land there should prevail the spirit of sweet-do-nothingness, how can we hope that others will consider us highly while we deem ourselves lightly?"

"My time here has been too short to have studied these matters carefully. However, I have heard men speak of a California republic."

"The vision of dreamers, my Captain. We have neither army nor navy, nor can we hope to have them. How could we unaided hold this province situated as it is, the commercial center of these seas and the bosom of resources as yet scarcely touched?"

"Then, in your judgment, it should not be a question of absolute independence?"

"In one sense, no. Yet, I favor a rule by the people. People of enlightenment will govern wisely. Captain Morando, we need men, more men, who will place the common good above their private interest."

"You speak the duty of the soldier, Señor Mendoza."

"It is so, Captain." Then turning the conversation back to the situation in the Santa Clara valley: "Have you run across Stanislaus yet? No? Nor Yoscolo? Well, I hope you will soon see both over your pistol barrel. They are a menace to the peace in our valley. Yoscolo is the abler of the two. Many a lively skirmish have my fighting peons had with the scoundrel."

During this time the Doña Carmelita mounted a staircase and walked along a passage which had its way over a high, wide adobe wall leading from one part of the house to another. The moonlight fell in weird fantasy on the hacienda grounds. Palms, evergreens, flowers assumed moving shapes, as if engaged in low but animated conversation.

Breezes from San Francisco Bay flowed intermittently into the courtyard, shaking the branches and rattling the leaves. One stronger gust caught spray from a fountain and sent it eddying into the white night. The awakened birds murmured sleepily and myriad crickets chirped remonstrance. Three Spanish mastiffs, guardians of the inclosure, edged away from the impromptu shower, then looked up furtively at the girl, ashamed of temporary cowardice.