The Doomswoman | Page 4

at that time, but his bearing was as
imperious in that year of 1840 as when six years later the American
Occupation closed forever the career of a man made in derision for
greatness. At his right rode his wife, one of the most queenly beauties
of her time, small as she was in stature. Every woman's eye turned to

her at once; she was our leader of fashion, and we all copied the gowns
that came to her from the city of Mexico.
But Chonita gave no heed to the Castros. She fixed her cold direct
regard on the man who rode with them, and whom, she knew, must be
Diego Estenega, for he was their guest. She was curious to see this
enemy of her house, the political rival of her brother, the owner of the
voice which had given her the first thrill of her life. He was dressed as
plainly as Castro, and had none of the rich southern beauty of the
caballeros. His hair was cut short like Alvarado's, and his face was thin
and almost sallow. But the life that was in that face! the passion, the
intelligence, the kindness, the humor, the grim determination! And
what splendid vitality was in his tall thin figure, and nervous activity
under the repose of his carriage! I remember I used to think in those
days that Diego Estenega could conquer the world if he wished,
although I suspected that he lacked one quality of the great rulers of
men,--inexorable cruelty.
From the moment his horse carried him into the plaza he did not
remove his eyes from Chonita's face. She lowered hers angrily after a
moment. As he reached the house he sprang to the ground, and
Alvarado presented the sponsors. He lifted his cap and bowed, but not
as low as the caballeros who were wont to prostrate themselves before
her. They murmured the usual form of salutation:
"At your feet, señorita."
"I appreciate the honor of your acquaintance."
"It is my duty and pleasure to lift you to your horse." And, still holding
his cap in his hand, he led her to one of the three horses which stood
beside the carriage; with little assistance she sprang to its back, and he
mounted the one reserved for him.
The cavalcade started. First the carriage, then Alvarado and myself,
followed by the sponsors, the Castros, the members of the
Departmental Junta and their wives, then the caballeros and the doñas,
the old people and the Americans; the populace trudging gayly in the

rear, keeping good pace with the riders, who were held in check by a
fragment of pulp too young to be jolted.
"You never have been in Monterey before, señorita, I understand," said
Estenega to Chonita. No situation could embarrass him.
"No; once they thought to send me to the convent here,--to Doña
Concepcion Arguéllo,--but it was so far, and my mother does not like
to travel. So Doña Concepcion came to us for a year, and, after, I
studied with an instructor who came from Mexico to educate my
brother and me." She had no intention of being communicative with
Diego Estenega, but his keen reflective gaze confused her, and she took
refuge in words.
"Doña Eustaquia tells me that, unlike most of our women, you have
read many books. Few Californian women care for anything but to look
beautiful and to marry,--not, however, being unique in that respect.
Would you not rather live in our capital? You are so far away down
there, and there are but few of the gente de razon, no?"
"We are well satisfied, señor, and we are gay when we wish. There are
ten families in the town, and many rancheros within a hundred leagues.
They think nothing of coming to our balls. And we have grand
religious processions, and bull-fights, and races. We have beautiful
cañons for meriendas; and I could dance every night if I wished. We
are few, but we are quite as gay and quite as happy as you in your
capital." The pride of the Iturbi y Moncadas and of the Barbariña
flashed in her eyes, then made way for anger under the amused glance
of Estenega.
"Oh, of course," he said, teasingly. "You are to Monterey what
Monterey is to the city of Mexico. But, pardon me, señorita; I would
not anger you for all the gold which is said to lie like rocks under our
Californias,--if it be true that certain padres hold that mighty secret.
(God! how I should like to get one by the throat and throttle it out of
him!) Pardon me again, señorita; I was going to say that you may be
pleased to know that there is little magnificence where my ranchos
are,--high on the coast,