“What happened?”
“The Virgin alone knows! for women are in her care, and no man could see. As ordered, I went to the gates of that hacienda very grand. Sangre de Christo! if they had known they would have strung me to a tree and filled me with lead! But I was the very responsible vaquero of Rancho Soledad in Altar––and the lizards of guards at the gate had no moment of suspicion. I told them the Indian girl carried a letter for the eyes of their mistress and the sender was Doña Jocasta Perez. At that they sent some messenger on the run, for they say the Doña Dolores is fire and a sword to any servant of theirs who is slow in her tasks.”
“I heard she was a wonder of pride and beauty,” said Kit. “Did you see her?”
“That came later. She sent for Tula who would give the letter to no one,––not even to me. The guard divided their dinner with me while I waited; if they were doing work for their general I was doing work for mine and learned many things in that hour! At last Tula came walking down that great stair made from one garden to another where laurel trees grow, and with her walked a woman out of the sun. There is no other word, señor, for that woman! Truly she is of gold and rose; her mother’s family were of old Spain and she is a glory to any day!”
“Did you feel yourself under witchcraft––once more?” queried Kit.
“Sangre de Christo! Never again! But José Perez had a good eye for making choice of women,––that is a true word! So Doña Dolores walked down to the drive with that manta over her arm, also a belt in her hand,––a belt of gold, señor, see!”
To the astonished gaze of Kit Rhodes he drew from under his coat the burro-skin belt he had directed the making of up there in the hidden cañon of El Alisal. Marto balanced it in his hand appreciatively.
“And there was more of it than this!” he exulted, “for the way on the railroad was paid out of it for all the Indians. That is why we lost two days,––our car was put on a side track, and for the sick it was worse than to walk the desert.”
“Yes; well?”
“Doña Dolores got in a fine carriage there. Madre de Dios! what horses! White as snow on the sierras, and gold on all the harness! Me, I am dreaming of them since that hour! They got in, Tula also in her poor dress, and a guard told me to follow the carriage. It was as if San Gabriel made me invitation to enter heaven! Twenty miles we went through that plantation, a deep sea of cane, señor, and maize of a tree size,––the richness there is riches of a king. Guards were everywhere and peons rode ahead to inform the major-domo, and he came riding like devils to meet Doña Dolores Terain. I am not a clever man, señor, but even I could see that never before had the lady of Linda Vista made herself fatigue by a plantation ride there, and I think myself he had a scare that she see too much! At the first when Doña Dolores had speech with him, it was easy to see he blamed me, and his eyes looked once as if to scorch me with fire. Then she pointed to the child beside her, and gave some orders, and he sent a guard with Tula through another gate into a great corral where men and women were packed like cattle. Señor, I have been in battles, but I never heard screams of wounded like the screams of joy I heard in that corral! Some of these Indians dropped like dead and were carried out of the gate that way as Tula stood inside and named the names.