University of Santa Clara - Redwood Yearbook (Santa Clara, CA)

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THE REDWOOD the owner of the extensive quinta , Avithout having afterwards to bother about its everlasting cares ; and at that time, it is certain, he hardly gave thought or heed to anything outside his immediate sphere and household. It is doubtful whether, even during the bounteous harvest season of the haci- enda , he did more than indolently sit beneath some shading oak tree, and watch the fertile meadows yielding up their sumptuous, mellow bounty, all under the capable direction of his many sons. But his dashing young progenies soon tired of the drudgery of the ha- cienda , and really caring not the end of a fig for Don Juan or his pleasant dreams, left him to manage the Rancho as best he was able, and departed for the great, wide world. Likewise had his daughters gone off with their re- spective husbands, and now the unfor- tunate old soldado was left entirely alone upon his sunny hacienda in the hills, except for his wife, and that solitary, blooming Eose o ' the Rancho, Dona Maria, his daughter. It may have been from the experi- ence he had with his other two daugh- ters, that he was loath to trust to the fickleness of the human race, in regard to his remaining offspring, and know- ing only too well the lure and attrac- tion that was held by Dona Maria for the stronger sex, he jealously guarded against ambitious young lovers and suitors for her hand, determining to have at least one daughter to brighten his ripe, old age. And thus it was, that though every caballero or young senor in the valley had at one time or other made her the goal of his affectionate designs, not one of them had had the courage to face the old soldado . And so it happened that at the pre- cise moment when a certain lieutenant of the army of the King at Monterey was honorably discharged from his Ma- jesty ' s service and had come to live in the fertile Valley of Santa Clara, the path toward the affections of the blushing Rose o ' the Rancho was clear of all rivals. This young lieutenant was descended from one of those proud old families, famous in certain parts of Granada and Castile for their early conquests and daring exploits, with seemingly all the names and titles, if not all the vir- tues of the better of his ancestors in- serted between Gaspar and his musical cognomen, Espinosa. And so it was, too, that old Don Juan, who really supp osed that he had at last exterminated all the army of suitors, which had at first besieged his stronghold, became aware of a new and determined competitor for the hand and heart of his daughter. Realizing that the handsome features and manly ways of young Espinosa would shortly captivate the foolish creature, he swore great oaths, and invoked every demo- nio and diablo in Hades to bring down curses upon the head of the rash young man who should presume to tri-

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THE REDWOOD But, padre, what else might it have been? Senor Castello cast a fatherly, re- proving glance at his disconcerted daughter. Come, come, Maria! Tell me, at whom did you wave the altar linen of Padre Dominic just before you entered the ' casa ' ? Ah, padre, I was merely drying the altar linen in the breeze, not waving it ! And she was gone from the ve- randa as suddenly as she had disap- peared from the vision of the gallant eaballero that very hour. But as she rounded the passage, wdiere it turned from the inner garden, to the sala de recibo , she was start- led by a whispered Maria in her ear, and turning nervously about, she beheld her congenial madre beside her. Oh ! it is you, mi querido madre, ' ' she cried. How are you feeling? I hope you have not been working too steadily. ' ' The Senora placed her arms caress- ingly about the dainty waist, and peered searchingly into Maria ' s flash- ing eyes. She was stately, tall, and slightly stern. A spotless , almost youthful, countenance spoke of former energetic beauty, while sympathetic, brownish eyes, and visible lines about the mouth and forehead betokened blooming youth cut short by trials and cares. Maria, dear, (Senora Castello ' s eyes rested affectionately upon her rad- iant daughter), I am well, but I am afraid your father is making you ill. Is it not so? Maria made no answer. Oh, Maria, I can see he is. But daughter, never forget, (Senora Cas- tello spoke in subdued, yet audible tones), I am always your friend! And with this comforting consolation and assurance, she hurried away to the back of the casa , where Margarita, the clumsy, little Mexican girl from the Mission, was listlessly sweeping. But, though the gentle Mistress of Rancho Agradable had solaced her lovely daughter in such a low and whis- pered voice, the tender words had reached Don Juan, reposing on his couch in the shaded patio , and had provoked a lengthy tirade from this ar- rogant tyrant. Senor Castello, to begin with, was one of the exclusive nobility of the coast, who, having fought for the illus- trious Portola, in his far-famed con- quest of California, and having re- ceived this enormous tract of pasture land among the hills in payment for his distinguished services in the conquest, had settled down with his family in the secluded spot, and established the hacienda . In those bygone days, he had been a lenient, compliant sort of a master, and an indulgent father, with his seven stalwart sons to manage the Rancho and its lands, and three won- derful daughters to minister unto him in his idle maturity. I suppose he thought it quite enough to have become

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THE REDWOOD fie with an old soldado in matters of such import. II One afternoon, about a week after the foregoing incident had taken place, a lone caballero halted his fiery horse in the center of the roadway, leading to the Mission, and for a few moments rested easily in the saddle. A few rods ahead lay the Mission. Far beyond the little building, Rancho Agradable twinkled down into the Valley, and sent the rider, Don Gaspar, into a series of contemplations and reflections upon the hacienda and its inmates. The dominant object of his meditation, of course, was the comely daughter of Se- nor Castello, and the carrying on of his suit in such a manner as to win her coquettish heart, or better, perha ps, the manner in which to win her obsti- nate padre. It was with an indescrib- able thrill that he recalled that sleepy afternoon, when she had waved to him, and afterwards whisked off into the casa . It would be but a short time, thought he, before he could claim the fair Senorita as his own, and already he saw the chapel bedecked with lilies and golden poppies for the wedding; and out of the very doors of the Mis- sion upon which he had come, himself triumphantly leading his bride away to the marriage festival at the haci- enda . As he thus silently meditated by the old Mission Cross, he was startled by a song bursting in upon the peaceful air. It came like the trill of a lark in the quiet of a summer ' s day, but sweet- er than the song of the lark, in rich mellow tones, which were like the laughing brook flowing swiftly over the shining pebbles of its bed. Don Gas- par was at first surprised by the wav- ering notes of the Spanish love ditty, and awakened so suddenly from his reveries, leaned forward, to catch, if possible, the voice of the singer. The rhythmic wavers seemed to come forth from the sacristy door. Suddenly it dawned upon him that the voice was that of Dona Maria, probably prepar- ing the altar for the Sunday services — and alone ! Gladly he put the spurs to his horse, and rounding the corner of the chapel in a great cloud of dust, sprang lightly from the saddle, sombrero in hand, awaiting to greet the Senorita. But apparently she had not heard him gal- loping up, so he sprang lightly through the doorway into the darkness of the sacristy. (To be Continued)