, the other half
anguish, that Alessandro replied: "Majella cannot lie. Majella is like
the saints. Alessandro is hers."

When they rode down into the valley, the whole village was astir. The
vintage-time had nearly passed; everywhere were to be seen large, flat
baskets of grapes drying in the sun. Old women and children were turning
these, or pounding acorns in the deep stone bowls; others were beating
the yucca-stalks, and putting them to soak in water; the oldest women
were sitting on the ground, weaving baskets. There were not many men in
the village now; two large bands were away at work,--one at the autumn
sheep-shearing, and one working on a large irrigating ditch at San
Bernardino.

In different directions from the village slow-moving herds of goats or
of cattle could be seen, being driven to pasture on the hills; some men
were ploughing; several groups were at work building houses of bundles
of the tule reeds.

"These are some of the Temecula people," said Alessandro; "they
are building themselves new houses here. See those piles of bundles
darker-colored than the rest. Those are their old roofs they brought
from Temecula. There, there comes Ysidro!" he cried joyfully, as a man,
well-mounted, who had been riding from point to point in the village,
came galloping towards them. As soon as Ysidro recognized Alessandro, he
flung himself from his horse. Alessandro did the same, and both running
swiftly towards each other till they met, they embraced silently.
Ramona, riding up, held out her hand, saying, as she did so, "Ysidro?"

Pleased, yet surprised, at this confident and assured greeting, Ysidro
saluted her, and turning to Alessandro, said in their own tongue, "Who
is this woman whom you bring, that has heard my name?"

"My wife!" answered Alessandro, in the same tongue. "We were married
last night by Father Gaspara. She comes from the house of the Senora
Moreno. We will live in San Pasquale, if you have land for me, as you
have said."

What astonishment Ysidro felt, he showed none. Only a grave and
courteous welcome was in his face and in his words as he said, "It
is well. There is room. You are welcome." But when he heard the soft
Spanish syllables in which Ramona spoke to Alessandro, and Alessandro,
translating her words to him, said, "Majel speaks only in the Spanish
tongue, but she will learn ours," a look of disquiet passed over his
countenance. His heart feared for Alessandro, and he said, "Is she,