of the bay. While the father talked, the mother hurried to
the padres to beg the good priests to forbid such a union.

"But Concha was no longer the docile girl of a month ago. She was a
woman and her heart was in the keeping of this sturdy Russian. She would
have him or none, and nothing the padres or her parents could say would
change her. Don Jose had never crossed his daughter before, and now as
she flung her arms about his neck and begged for her happiness he
weakened. After all, this Russian was a splendid fellow, and perhaps it
might be an advantage to Spain, rather than a detriment to have an ally
at Petrograd. In the end the pleading of Concha and the arguments of
Rezanov won. Comandante Argueello yielded and the betrothal was
solemnized, but there were many obstacles before the marriage could be
consummated. The permission of the Czar of Russia and the King of Spain
must be obtained, and this would take time, as well as involve a long
and dangerous trip. But nothing could daunt the spirits of the lovers.
Concepcion's brother, Luis, had already waited six years for permission
to marry Rafaela Sal and if Rezanov traveled with haste he could return
in two. He must go first to Petrograd to ask the consent of the Czar and
then to the Court of Madrid to promote more friendly relations between
the two countries, finally returning to claim his bride, by way of
Mexico. But before he could start on his journey, his starving Alaskan
colony must be provided for, and after considerable discussion,
arrangements were made for an interchange of commodities, and the hold
of the Russian ship, 'Juno' was packed with foodstuffs for the Sitkans,
while the ladies at the Presidio were resplendent in soft Russian
fabrics and the padres were rejoicing in new cooking utensils for their
large Indian family.

"At length the 'Juno' weighed anchor and the white sails filled with the
afternoon breeze. As the Russians came opposite Cantil Blanco, the fort
which had scowled so menacingly upon them on their entrance forty-four
days before, now smiled with friendly faces. There was much waving of
hats and many shouts of farewell from the little group on the shore, but
Rezanov saw only the figure of a tall graceful girl with the soft folds
of a mantilla billowing about her head and shoulders and heard only the
murmur of love from the rosy lips. 'Two years,' he whispered back to
her, as the ship passed out through the Gulf of the Farallones and