Not with aguardiente, but with a bottle
of old wine from the Mision refectory that I will send to thee. It was
given to me by thy friend, Padre Miguel, and is from the old vines that
were here. Courage, Pereo! And thou sayest that Amita complains that
thou comest between her and Raymond. So! What matter? Let it cheer
thy heart to know that I have summoned the Peraltas, the Pachecos, the
Estudillos, all thy old friends, to dine here to-day. Thou wilt hear
the old names, even if the faces are young to thee. Courage! Do thy
duty, old friend; let them see that the hospitality of La Mision
Perdida does not grow old, if its mayordomo does. Faquita will bring
thee the wine. No; not that way; thou needest not pass the patio, nor
meet that man again. Here, give me thy hand. I will lead thee. It
trembles, Pereo! These are not the sinews that only two years ago
pulled down the bull at Soquel with thy single lasso! Why, look! I
can drag thee; see!" and with a light laugh and a boyish gesture, she
half pulled, half dragged him along, until their voices were lost in
the dark corridor.

Maruja kept her word. When the sun began to cast long shadows along
the veranda, not only the outer shell of La Mision Perdida, but the
dark inner heart of the old casa, stirred with awakened life. Single
horsemen and carriages began to arrive; and, mingled with the modern
turnouts of the home party and the neighboring Americans, were a few of
the cumbrous vehicles and chariots of fifty years ago, drawn by gayly
trapped mules with bizarre postilions, and occasionally an outrider.
Dark faces looked from the balcony of the patio, a light cloud of
cigarette-smoke made the dark corridors the more obscure, and mingled
with the forgotten incense. Bare-headed pretty women, with roses
starring their dark hair, wandered with childish curiosity along the
broad veranda and in and out of the French windows that opened upon the
grand saloon. Scrupulously shaved men with olive complexion, stout men
with accurately curving whiskers meeting at their dimpled chins,
lounged about with a certain unconscious dignity that made them
contentedly indifferent to any novelty of their surroundings. For a
while the two races kept mechanically apart; but, through the tactful
gallantry of Garnier, the cynical familiarity of Raymond, and the
impulsive recklessness of Aladdin, who had forsaken his enchanted
Palace on the slightest of invitations, and returned with t