The Flag of Distress Part 28

"It is; and now you speak of it. I remember something. While we were under the wall, I fancied I saw a man crouching along the water's edge, as if going away from the boat."

"You did?"

"I'm almost certain I did. At the time, I thought nothing of it, as we were watching for the other two; and I had no suspicion of any one else being about. Now, I believe there was one."

"And now, I believe so too. _Carramba_! that accounts for everything.

I see it all. That's how the sailor got our names, and knew all about our design--that to do--_murder_! You needn't start at the word, nor turn pale. But you may at the prospect before us. _Carrai_! we're in danger, Calderon;--no mistake about it. Why the devil didn't you tell me of it--at the time you saw that man?"

"Because, as I've said, I had no thought it could be any one connected with them."

"Well, your thoughtlessness has got us into a fix indeed--the worst I've ever been in, and I can remember a few. No use to think about duelling now, whoever might be challenger. Instead of seconds, they'd meet us with a posse of sheriff's officers. Likely enough they'll be setting them after us before this. Although I feel sure our bullets didn't hit either, it'll be just as bad. The attempt will tell against us all the same. Therefore, it won't do to stay here. So direct your servants not to unsaddle. We'll need to be off, soon as we've swallowed a cup of chocolate."

A call from Don Faustino brings one of his domestics to the door; then a word or two sends him off with the order for keeping the horses in hand.

"_Chingara_!" fiercely exclaims De Lara, striking the table with his shut fist, "everything has gone against us."

"Everything, indeed. Our money lost, our love made light of, our revenge baffled--"

"No, not the last! Have no fear, Faustino. That's still to come."

"How?"

"How I you ask, do you?"

"I do. I can't see what way we can get it now. You know the English officers will be gone in a day or two. Their s.h.i.+p is to sail soon.

Last night there was talk in the town that she might leave at any moment--to-morrow, or it may be this very day."

"Let her go, and them with her. The sooner the better for us. That won't hinder me from the revenge I intend taking. On the contrary, 'twill help me. Ha! I shall strike this Crozier in his tenderest part!

and you can do the same for Senor Cadwallader."

"In what way?"

"Faustino Calderon, I won't call you a fool, notwithstanding your behaviour last night. But you ask some very silly questions, and that's one of them. Supposing these _gringos_ gone from here, does it follow they'll take everything along with them? Can you think of nothing they must needs leave behind?"

"Their hearts. Is that what you mean?"

"No, it isn't."

"What then?"

"Their sweethearts, stupid! And that brings me to what I intend telling you--leastwise to the first chapter of it."

"Which is!"

"That somebody else is going away, too."

"Who?"

"Don Gregorio Montijo!"

"Don Gregorio Montijo?"

"Don Gregorio, daughter and grand-daughter."

"You astonish me! But are they leaving California for good?"

"Leaving it for good."

"That is strange intelligence, startling! Though I can understand the reason; that's well known."

"Oh, yes; the Don's disgusted with things as they now go here; and I suppose the senoritas are also. No wonder. Since these ragged and red-s.h.i.+rted gentry have taken possession of the place, it's not very agreeable for ladies to show themselves about; nor very safe, I should say. Good reason for Don Gregorio selling out, and betaking himself to quieter quarters."

"He has sold out, has he?"

"He has."

"You're sure of it?"

"Quite sure. Rafael Rocas has told me all about it. And for an enormous sum of money. How much do you suppose?"

"Perhaps 100,000 dollars. His property ought to be worth that."

"Whether it ought to be, or is, it has realised three times the amount."

"_Carramba_! Has Rocas said so?"

"He has."

"Has he told you who the generous purchaser is?"

"Some speculating Yankees, who fancy they see far into the future, and think Don Gregorio's pasture-land a good investment. There's a partners.h.i.+p of purchasers, I believe, and they've paid the money down, in cash."

"Already! What kind of cash?"

"The best kind--doubloons and dollars. Not all in coin. Some of it in the currency of California--gold-dust and nuggets."

"That's quite as good. _Santissima_! a splendid fortune. All for a piece of pasture-land, that twelve months ago wasn't worth a tenth part the amount! What a pity my own acres are already hypothecated! I might have been a millionaire."

"No! your land lies too far-off. These Yankees have bought Don Gregorio's land for 'town-lots,' as they call them. In due time, no doubt, they'll cover them with their psalm-singing churches and schoolhouses--though the first building put up should be a prison."

Both laugh together at this modest _jeu d'esprit_; their mirth having a double significance. For neither need be over-satisfied with the sight of a prison.

"By the Virgin!" exclaims Calderon, continuing the conversation; "Don Gregorio has done well, and he may be wise in quitting California. But what the devil are we to do about the girls? Of course, as you say, they're going to!"

"And so it may be. But not before another event takes place--one that may embarra.s.s, and delay, if it do not altogether prevent their departure."

"_Amigo_; you talk enigmatically. Will you oblige me by speaking plainer?"

"I will; but not till we've had our chocolate, and after it a _copita_ of Catalan. I need a little alcohol to get my brain in working order; for there's work for it to do. Enough now to tell you I've had a revelation. A good angel--or it may be a bad one--has visited me, and given it. A vision which shows me at the same time riches and revenge-- pointing the straight way to both."