III
"Santiago!" whispered Concha. "Do not go down to the ship. Take mefor a walk. I have much to say."
Santiago, who had not been asked to form one of the escort upon thereturn of the Russians to the Juno for the night, felt injured andsulky and deigned no reply.
"If you do not, I'll not braid your hair to-morrow," said his sister,giving his arm a little shake; and he succumbed. The luxuriant tressesof the male Arguellos were combed and braided and tied with a ribbonevery morning by the women of the family, and Concha's fingers were thegentlest and deftest. And Concha and Santiago were more intimate thaneven the rest of that united family. They had studied and readtogether, were equally dissatisfied with their narrow existence,ambitious for a wider experience. Santiago consoled himself with cardsand training roosters for battle, and otherwise as a man may. He wasbut fifteen, this haughty, severe-looking young hidalgo, but while insome respects many years older than his sister, in others he wasyounger, for he possessed none of her illuminating instinct.
She led him through a postern gate, round the first of the dunes, andthey were alone in a waste of sand. She demanded abruptly:
"What do you think of our illustrious visitor?"
"I like him. He would wring your neck if you got in his way, but has akind heart for those that call him master. I like that sort of a man.I wish he would take me away with him."
"He shall--one of these days. Santiago mio, let me whisper--" Shepulled his ear down to her lips. "He will marry me. I feel it. Iknow it. He has talked to me the whole day. He has told me gravesecrets. Not even to you would I reveal them. So many have lovedme--why should not he? I shall live in St. Petersburg, and see allEurope!--thousands of people--Dios mio! Dios mio!"
"Indeed!" Santiago, still unamiable, responded to this confidence witha sneer. "You aspire very high for a little girl of the wilderness,without fortune, and only half a coat-of-arms, so to speak. Do youknow that this Rezanov--Dr. Langsdorff has told us all about him--is agreat noble, one of the ten barons of Russia, and a Chamberlain inaccordance with a decree of Peter the Great that court titles should bebestowed as a reward for distinguished services alone? He got afortune in his youth by marriage with a daughter of Shelikov--thatSiberian who founded the Russian colonies in America. The wife diedalmost immediately, but the Baron's influence remained withShelikov--for his influence at court was even greater--and after theolder man's death, with his mother-in-law, who is uncommonly clever.Shelikov's schemes were but little sketches beside Rezanov's, who frommerely a courtier and a gay blood about town developed into a great manof business, with an ambition to correspond. It was he who got theImperial ukase that gave the Russian-American Company its power tosqueeze all the other fur hunters and traders out of the northeast, andmade Rezanov and everybody belonging to it so rich your head would swimif I told you the number of doubloons they spend in a year. Nobody hasever been so clever at managing those old beasts of autocrats as he.They think him merely the accomplished courtier, a brilliantdilettante, a condescending patron of art and letters, a devotee ofpleasure, and all the time he is pulling their befuddled old brainsabout to suit himself. The Tsar Paul was a lunatic and they murderedhim, but meanwhile he signed the ukase. The Tsar Alexander, who is notso bad nor so silly as the others, thinks there is no man so clever asRezanov, who addresses him personally when sending home his reports.Do you know what all that means? Your plenipotentiary is not only aChamberlain at court, a Privy Councillor, and the Tsar himself on thisside of the world, but when his inspections and reforms are concluded,and he is one of the wealthiest men in Russia, he will return to St.Petersburg and become so high and mighty that a princess would snap athim. And you aspire! I never heard such nonsense."
"His excellency told me much of this," replied Concha imperturbably."And I am sure that he cares nothing for princesses and will marry whomhe most admires. He would not say, but I know he cared nothing forthat poor little wife, dead so long ago. It was a mariage deconvenance, such as all the great world is accustomed to. He will loveme more than all the fine ladies he has ever seen. I feel it. I knowit! And I am quite happy."
"Do you love him?" asked Santiago, looking curiously at his sister'sflushed and glowing face. It seemed to him that she had never looked soyoung. "Many have loved you. I had begun to think you had no heartfor men, no wish for anything but admiration. And now you give yourheart in a day to this Russian--who must be nearly forty--unasked."
"I have not thought of my heart at all. But I could love him, ofcourse. He is so handsome, so kind, so grand, so gay! But love is formen and wives--has not my mother said so? Now I think only of St.Petersburg! of Paris! of London! of the beautiful gowns and jewels Ishall wear at court--a red velvet train as long as a queen's, and allembroidered with gold, a white veil spangled with gold, a head-dress afoot high studded with jewels, ropes of diamonds and pearls--I made himtell me how the great ladies dressed. Ah! there is the pleasure ofbeing a girl--to think and dream of all those beautiful things, not ofwhen the wife must live always for the husband and children. Thatcomes soon enough. And why should I not have all!--there is so littlein life for the girl. It seems to me now that I have had nothing.When he asks me to marry him he will tell me of the fine things I shallhave and the great sights I shall witness--the ceremonies at court, thewinter streets--with snow--snow, Santiago!--where the great noblesdrive four horses through the drifts like little hills, and are wrappedin furs like bears! The grand military parades--how I shall laugh whenI think of our poor little Presidios with their dozen officersstrutting about--" She stopped abruptly and bursting wildly into tearsflung herself into her brother's arms. "But I never could leave you!And my father! my mother! all! all! Ay, Dios de mi alma! what aningrate I am! I should die of homesickness! My Santiago! MySantiago!"
Santiago patted her philosophically. "You are not going to-morrow," hereminded her. "Don't cross your bridges until you come to them. Thatis a good proverb for maids and men. You might take us all with you,or spend every third year or so in California. No doubt you would needthe rest. And meanwhile remember that the high and mighty Chamberlainhas not yet asked for the honor of an alliance with the house ofArguello, and that your brother will match his best fighting cockagainst your new white lace mantilla from Mexico, that he is notmeditating any project so detrimental to his fortunes. Consoleyourself with the reflection that if he were, our father and thepriests, and the Governor himself, would die of apoplexy. He is aheretic--a member of the Greek Church! Hast thou lost thy reason,Conchita? Dry your eyes and come home to sleep, and let us hear nomore of marriage with a man who is not only a barbarian of the northand a heretic, but so proud he does not think a Californian good enoughto wash his decks."
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