l dwelt on the story he had heard. "So
Concepcion suffered in the uncertainty of hope and despair for ten
years," he said, "but ten months of it brought me to the limit of
endurance. Do you think if Rezanov had returned and Concepcion had
married him and gone to Petrograd she would have been happy?"

"Of course she would."

"Still Petrograd is a cold, dreary place compared to California."

"But what difference would that make? A woman would give up everything
and count it no sacrifice for the man she loved."

"And you said only yesterday--"

"Oh, but that was different," I assured him, my cheeks burning under his
gaze. "Rezanov loved California. He thought it so wonderful that he
wanted it for a Russian province, and he would have brought Concepcion
back to visit--"

"Boston is nearer than Petrograd and not so cold. Don't you think you
could teach me to love California, too?"

"Perhaps," I acknowledged. Then anxious to turn the conversation, I
asked: "Would you like to see the location of the old Spanish fort?" He
nodded and we took the road leading to the present Fort Point. "I can't
show you the exact location," I confessed, "because the United States
cut down the bold promontory, Cantil Blanco, in order to place the
present fortification close to the water's edge, but if you will use
your imagination and picture a white cliff towering a hundred feet above
the water at the point where Fort Winfield Scott now stands, you will
see the entrance to the bay as it was in Spanish days. Here was located
the old fort, called Castilla San Joaquin, which guarded the harbor for
many years. Made of adobe in the shape of a horseshoe, so perishable
that the walls crumbled every time a shot was fired, still it answered
its purpose, as it was never needed for anything but friendly salutes,
and even these were at times, perforce, omitted. The Russian, Kotzebue,
states that when he entered the harbor he was impressed by the old fort
and the soldiers drawn up in military array, but wondered that no return
was made to his salute. A little later, however, the omission of the
courtesy was explained when a Spanish officer boarded the vessel and
asked to borrow sufficient powder for this purpose. Moreover, Robinson
tells us that frequently during the afternoon's siesta a foreign ship
would pass the fort, drop anchor in Yerba Buena Cove, and spend several
days in the bay before the Presidio officers would know of its presence.
But this