XXIV.
A rodeo was held the next day,--the last of the festivities;--DonGuillermo taking advantage of the gathering of the rancheros. It wasto take place on the Cerros Rancho, which adjoined the Rancho delas Rocas. We went early, most of us dismounting and taking to theplatform on one side of the circular rodeo-ground. The vaqueroswere already galloping over the hills, shouting and screaming to thecattle, who ran to them like dogs; soon a herd came rushing down intothe circle, where they were thrown down and branded, the stray cattlebelonging to neighbors separated and corralled. This happened againand again, the interest and excitement growing with each round-up.
Once a bull, seeing his chance, darted from his herd and down thevalley. A vaquero started after him; but Reinaldo, anxious to displayhis skill in horsemanship, and being still mounted, called to thevaquero to stop, dashed after the animal, caught it by its tail,spurred his horse ahead, let go the tail at the right moment, and,amidst shouts of "Coliar!" "Coliar!" the bull was ignominiously rolledin the dust, then meekly preceded Reinaldo back to the rodeo-ground.
After the dinner under the trees most of the party returned to theplatform, but Estenega, Adan, Chonita, Valencia, and myself strolledabout the rancho. Adan walked at Chonita's side, more faithful thanher shadow. Valencia's black eyes flashed their language so plainly toEstenega's that he could not have deserted her without rudeness; andEstenega never was rude.
"Adan," said Chonita, abruptly, "I am tired of thee. Sit down underthat tree until I come back. I wish to walk alone with Eustaquia forawhile."
Adan sighed and did as he was bidden, consoling himself with acigarito. Taking a different path from the one the others followed, wewalked some distance, talking of ordinary matters, both avoiding thesubject of Diego Estenega by common consent. And yet I was convincedthat she carried on a substratum of thought of which he was thesubject, even while she talked coherently to me. On our way back theconversation died for want of bone and muscle, and, as it happened, wewere both silent as we approached a small adobe hut. As we turned thecorner we came upon Estenega and Valencia. He had just bent his headand kissed her.
Valencia fled like a hare. Estenega turned the hue of chalk, and Iknew that blue lightning was flashing in his disconcerted brain. Ifelt the chill of Chonita as she lifted herself to the rigidity of astatue and swept slowly down the path.
"Diego, you are a fool!" I exclaimed, when she was out of hearing.
"You need not tell me that," he said, savagely. "But what in heaven'sname--Well, never mind. For God's sake straighten it out with her.Tell her--explain to her--what men are. Tell her that the presentwoman is omnipotently present--no, don't tell her that. Tell herthat history is full of instances of men who have given one woman thedevoted love of a lifetime and been unfaithful to her every week inthe year. Explain to her that a man to love one woman must love allwomen. And she has sufficient proof that I love her and no otherwoman: I want to marry her, not Valencia Menendez. Heaven knows I willbe true to her when I have her. I could not be otherwise. But I neednot explain to you. Set it right with her. She has brain, and can bemade to understand."
I shook my head. "You cannot reason with inexperience; and when itis allied to jealousy--God of my soul! Her ideal, of course, isperfection, and does not take human weakness into account. You havefallen short of it to-day. I fear your cause is lost."
"It is not! Do you think I will give her up for a trifle like that?"
"But why not accept this break? You cannot marry her--"
"Oh, do not refer to that nonsense!" he exclaimed, harshly. "I shallpeel off her traditions when the time comes, as I would strip off theouter hulls of a nut. Go! Go, Eustaquia!"
Of course I went. Chonita was not at the rodeo-ground, but, escortedby her father, had gone home. I followed immediately, and when Ireached Casa Grande I found her sitting in her library. I never sawa statue look more like marble. Her face was locked: only the eyesbetrayed the soul in torment. But she looked as immutable as a fate.
"Chonita," I exclaimed, hardly knowing where to begin, "be reasonable.Men of Estenega's brain and passionate affectionate nature are alwaysweak with women, but it means nothing. He cares nothing for ValenciaMenendez. He is madly in love with you. And his weakness, my dear,springs from the same source as his charm. He would not be the manhe is without it. His heart would be less kindly, his impulses lessgenerous, his brain less virile, his sympathies less instinctive andtrue. The strong impregnable man, the man whom no vice tempts, noweakness assails, who is loyal without effort,--such a man lacksbreadth and magnetism and the power to read the human heart andsympathize with both its noble impulses and its terrible weaknesses.Such men--I never have known it to fail--are full of petty vanitiesand egoisms and contemptible weaknesses, the like of which Estenegacould not be capable of. No man can be perfect, and it is the manof great strength and great weakness who alone understands andsympathizes with human nature, who is lovable and magnetic, and whohas the power to rouse the highest as well as the most passionate loveof a woman. Such men cause infinite suffering, but they can give ahappiness that makes the suffering worth while. You never will meetanother man like Diego Estenega. Do not cast him lightly aside."
"Do I understand," said Chonita, in a perfectly unmoved voice, "thatyou are counseling me to marry an Estenega and the man who would sendme to Hell hereafter? Do you forget my vow?"
I came to myself with a shock. In the enthusiasm of my defense I hadforgotten the situation.
"At least forgive him," I said, lamely.
"I have nothing to forgive," she said. "He is nothing to me."
I knew that it was useless to argue with her.
"I have a favor to ask of you," she said. "Most of our guests leavethis afternoon: will you let me sleep alone to-night?"
I should have liked to put my arm about her and give her a woman'ssympathy, but I did not dare. All I could do was to leave her alone.
The Doomswoman: An Historical Romance of Old California Page 24