The hours passed, slowly it seemed to the caballero. One by one the lights in the mission buildings disappeared. The heavy fog obscured the light of the moon and stars. A cold wind crept up the valley, and the caballero wrapped his cloak around his shoulders and sat nearer the fire.
CHAPTER VIII
A VICTOR RUNS AWAY
An hour after sunrise an Indian rode a mule furiously up the valley from the presidio. The beast was covered with lather and dust, and the rider appeared half exhausted. His screeching awoke the sleeping caballero, who went out of the teepee and looked toward the plaza to note the cause of the uproar.
Frailes and neophytes crowded around the mule’s rider and questioned eagerly. Señor Lopez came from the storehouse to hear the news, and the caballero could see that his face was illuminated with a smile as he hurried across to the guest house, where he knocked on the door.
The door opened and Señora Vallejo appeared, Señorita Anita Fernandez beside her. Words were passed. Señora Vallejo turned and clasped the girl in her arms; the señorita hid her face against the duenna’s shoulder; Señor Lopez laughed loudly, and a passing fray raised arms in blessing.
Indian women and children began running about, busy at nothing in particular. Lopez began giving wine to any who asked it. Straw was thrown on the mud near buildings where the sun had not penetrated enough to turn the wet clay to dust. One by one, men walked to the end of the wall and gazed down El Camino Real toward the bay.
“One would think San Diego de Alcalá expected a visit from His Excellency the Governor!” the caballero gasped. “Nothing like this transpired when I came off the highway and graced the mission with my presence.”
And then, an hour before noon, a dust cloud approached from the north. It did not stop at the presidio, this dust cloud, but continued up the valley, and in time it was dispelled enough for the caballero to see that the riders were two in number, and that they were followed by a pack mule compelled to cover the ground at a gallop.
Neophytes covered the top of the adobe wall to watch; frailes ran here and there about the plaza calling orders that were given no attention; and Señor Lopez, standing in the doorway of the storehouse beside the giant Pedro, jested loudly as he quaffed wine, but in words the caballero could not hear. The two soldiers who had been the caballero’s guards partook of the excitement, and left the shore of the creek to climb the slope and join in the enthusiasm.
The riders came nearer; one was a man well dressed, with his bright-coloured zarape flowing behind him; the other was an Indian who rode a mule. The red dust of the highway covered them, but they sat their saddles like men newly mounted, though it was evident they had travelled the forty miles from San Luis Rey de Francia that morning.