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Show Uiraitiia SKuers Bartlett h h h h k J . WNU Service CHAPTER XVIII-Continued 15 .en." La Perouse continued In , IT "it was a surprise to find " SPr axury to your palaisde adobe. ,T3 a surprise to find such wine j J uch brandy as this, and." rais- to gls to La Gobernadora, ' " Is a surprise and a great pleas-it. pleas-it. I to find the palais, or perhaps Should say the hotel de ville with 5l ,,'r.h a chatelaine! Such grace, and f I may be pardoned lor speaking I "frankly, such beauty, such ele-Ice ele-Ice could scarcely be found m " S C0urt of Louis XVI himself, or rf tout own sovereign, Charles of Ljr,' But to find it here! Madame! B'ut of course you know how fortunate fortu-nate are' Monsieur le Gouver-jeur, Gouver-jeur, to have ... how do you call , ti,r La Gobernadora? . . . here in tte'wilderness with you! I envy you, tarbleu, I do. You are like the 1 first man and the first woman, Ad- Iam and Eve, in this Paradise; your ye here must be a perpetual honeymoon!" honey-moon!" Eulalia smiled, with sidelong glances at the two Frenchmen. She itudied them carefully. Such finesse! fi-nesse! Such fine clothes! And from those curled perukes she was sure there came a faint perfume, very 5 faint to be sure, and very masculine, mascu-line, but unmistakable. Those neat breeches, and buckled shoes. She studied her husband. Why had )r; she not trimmed his beard that day? And why had she not insisted that ? he come and change his clothes before the distinguished Frenchmen i tame ashore? That leather jacket, and those stained leather breeches "US ... dusty boots. She shuddered. -Ugh, and that faint odor of horses that clung around him always. She sighed deeply. "Yes," La Perouse was saying to the Governor, "we have with us on this expedition astronomers, philosophers, philoso-phers, meteorologists, watchmakers, cartographers, every sort of scientist scien-tist you can imagine. With your permission we will make a camp near here, and set up a laboratory. There are many things here we wish to study, as well as the In- 3dians, their habits, physical charac-' charac-' teristics, and religions." I Eulalia saw her husband lean forward1 for-ward1 eagerly, with the expression f on his face that told her he would soon launch into a lengthy, and to her, uninteresting discourse on his favorite subject, California. She 1 looked at young Dagelet, brooding before the fire, untouched by the spate of unfamiliar Spanish that nigh! Bowed around him. She moved a clos". , ."You are very quiet. Monsieur." ut mm&z I am at a disadvantage. Ma-dame, Ma-dame, because of my ignorance ol jour language. But you speak mine so beautifully it would be a charity e F. on your part to talk with me." Pa" "What can I say? I have nothing ten: to tell. There is nothing to talk a) about in this God-forsaken and lone- ly country. And I have been here so '"I long that I can hardly remember what the world . . . my world . . . 5 like. Tell me!" she demanded i eagerly. ' At the emotion in her voice Dage- i let leaned toward her and spoke ( softly. i "I can hardly Imagine, Madame, ! that you are out of touch with the y world. One would not believe it to "ok at you. But what shall I teU i J'ou? Of politics? Wars and. rumors ! ot w"s? The theater? Opera? Gossip? Gos-sip? Scandal?" The lady's eyes sparkled, and her "PS curved in an enchanted smile. "Gossip!" she demanded. "Scandal!" "Scan-dal!" So while Pedro Fages and the borate de La Perouse talked of stars tides, flora and fauna, horses ; slllPs and men, La Gobernadora m young Dagelet talked of modes 'fill manners, the gayest whim of ne Queen of France, the newest wress to set Paris by the ears, ' e brightest songbird to be the toast :J ithe iwnesse dore. ol'!amsorryIcantellyou nothing ?' " Jour own city, Barcelona, Ma- you1" hPe Paris 'erests lolAParisl 1 have been there! I I wve the place . . ' !! tj EICry Woman does. Every wit- , farming lovely woman any-! any-! .5 w toe world," dared Dagelet, '1 'new,bre enjyed my 60Ssip' I ly'ne. . Remember, it is not real- V v'e ,,or We have been nearly a lm ,C,ruise Since we saiIed h:mJlaR ra'Sed melancholy eyes to vow . u,1 yu are going back to ' some,;"ntry' yonr beloved Paris, V tat. ,oT,But 1,1 ver shall re's re-'s l sme me' 1 sha11 die here f " s;o0 and be buried in the mis- I out evereyard and forSotten, with-) with-) wWe in vf havine lived." Tears ' her ev? voice and very near , her as ,'K Daglet stirred toward i .at lav gh t0 touch the hand s ."hnedappealingiy. so! There' Madame! 0 not speak J Jouwiu r?USl be some hPe 11131 to waslo 1 WouId be wicked for you your iue a rougn out. post like this, a place fit only for men, and strong men. used to dan-gerl dan-gerl Why do you stay?" Eulalia was about to speak, but noticed the young man's eyes straying stray-ing from her suddenly. Indizuela had silently entered the room, and was picking up the empty glasses. La Gobernadora spoke sharply. "No one called you, moza. Leave the room." The girl looked somberly somber-ly at the Governor, sliding her eyes over the two Frenchmen. "Ah!" said the Count. "What a specimen!" "Isn't she?" said the Governor. "One of our finest." The men watched Indizuela as she sidled slowly and insolently out of the room, while Eulalia . clung to her outraged dignity with clenched hands. Later, Eulalia was conscious of speaking farewells as her husband departed to escort the travelers to their long-boat, for they would spend the night aboard their ship. Then she hurried into her room and picked up her tiring glass. She stroked the color that still flamed in her cheeks. For a few minutes she looked into her own eyes. Then she put the mirror down and, lifting lift-ing the sweeping lengths of flowered brocade that made her skirt, danced a slow minuet with her shadow, to an air she had heard years ago in Paris. CHAPTER XIX Pedro Fages looked with awe and curiosity at the collection of esoteric eso-teric instruments scattered around the tent which La Perouse had had erected on the beach for a laboratory. labora-tory. "You will pardon me, Senor el Conde," he said with a twinkle, "but e i-j:,.. Bn Her Horse Slid on Its Haunches Straight Down the Bank. I these look strange to me. I have not found such things necessary in my study of this country and people." peo-ple." The French scientist straightened up from the microscope into which he had been peering, and laughed as he stretched himself. His place at the instrument was immediately taken by a pale lank-haired scholar who adjusted it to his sight with the loving care of a fanatic. "And how do you study them, mon ami?" he asked. The Governor looked puzzled. "I do not really know. I just live with the country, and the people. And if the things that they do seem odd to me, I take them for granted, ask them no questions. But I feel as though I know and understand them. As for the country, I know I understand it. Oh, I don't mean your botanical names and terms. But I know an oak tree, a sycamore, syca-more, an alder when I see it I know the birds ... but all by little lit-tle Spanish names that would seem strange to you ... I know the animals and their habits . . ." "In fact you knowmuch more than I and my two shiploads of scientists would ever know with all their instruments in-struments if they stayed here a quarter of a century." The two men strolled away from the tent, and the Governor rolled La Perouse a cigarette from his supply of cornhusks and tobacco. The Frenchman inhaled deeply. "You must give me some of these to take with me," he said. "Now I have here a list of tilings I was to ask you." He looked over some notes. "Hum-m-m. These were some questions that the medical profession profes-sion was interested in. The answers will no doubt be simple for you. What is the relation of the color of the skin of the natives to the fluids in their bodies?" The Governor took his cigarette from his mouth and stared at his questioner, with open mouth. "How should I know?" he said at last "How should . . ." "How should you Indeed! Hum. That is one question our medical brethren will have to find out for themselves. Kevenons a nos mou-tons mou-tons . . . hum." While Don Pedro and La Perouse were discoursing, a Gobernadora and young Dagelet walked their horses to the edge of a shallow cliff, where gnarled cypress writhed in distorted attitudes away from the sea, and sat silently a moment looking look-ing at the scene beneath them. A score of servants were preparing a merienda ... a picnic ... on the shore. Against a blackened rock, where savage people of ages past had baked food salvaged from the sea, a fire had dwindled into glowing glow-ing coals, the correct temperature for cooking. "I see Angustias, managing everything," every-thing," said Eulalia, pointing at the scene with her riding whip. "And there is Indizuela," she went on with a sidelong glance at her cavalier. cava-lier. "Don't you see her?" Dagelet reached for her reins, and pulled Eulalia's mount closer to him. "I see only you. You are Indeed In-deed Queen of California in your green habit of regal velvet, except that you have a very chic hat with a sweeping plume instead of a crown. Do you ever wear a crown?" Eulalia sighed inwardly with delight de-light at the compliment. His look strayed over her from trembling plume to the restless toe of her riding shoe. "You were made to be a queen. It would not matter where you were, you would have to be a queen. But it seems to me you could have chosen a better domain to reign over than this California. You should be ..." he hesitated delicately, deli-cately, but the lady's deepened color col-or and attentive eyes gave him permission per-mission to speak farther, ". . . queen of a court of love and beau- A f i-y- Eulalia only sighed, and stared out at the turquoise waters of the cove. Dagelet drew nearer and took her hand gently. He stripped the embroidered gauntlet from the relaxed re-laxed fingers. Leaning over suddenly, sud-denly, he kissed her palm. She did not start, but withdrew her hand, still staring across the waters. Dagelet was modily silent for a few moments before he spoke. "Yes, there it lies, the ocean," he said at last following her gaze. "And in two days there shall be I, upon those heaving waters wafted hither and thither by all the winds of heaven, drifting to strange isles and distant lands." "But you will be on your way home . .. . to your Paris . . . with its life and color and music. Where the lights twinkle at night on the. boulevards. And where there is gaiety. Ai, Dios de mi alma!" she sighed, speaking in Spanish, "I would I were going too!" The young Frenchman was staring star-ing strangely into the distance. "Perhaps I shall see Paris again, perhaps not : . . who can say? It is half around the world or more from here, and many things can happen. But I wish you were." He stopped suddenly. "Pardon me," he mumbled, "I forget myself." "No," said Eulalia excitedly, "say what you were going to say. Did you not understand what I said in Spanish just now? I said I would I were going with you! There . . . I have said it." "Come!" Before there was time for further speech the Governor, La Perouse and his French gentlemen on their horses, Fray Fermin Lasuen and some priests from San Carlos at Carmel on their mules came upon them. "Ah, here is our hostess, La Reine herself!" exclaimed La Perouse. Pe-rouse. The Governor looked quickly from 1 .1 r. T.t-f ---rr. .-j. .-..-- I his wife to young Dagelet, and crowded his horse beside his wife's. "Why are you not seeing that everything is ready for our guests?" he asked shortly. "Why are you . . ." But Eulalia, after a moment's silence si-lence in which she summoned flying fly-ing senses and thoughts back to her, threw back her head with a ringing laugh. "Come, my merry gentlemen!"' she cried gaily. "Come, the fiesta awaits your pleasure! Follow me, Senores!" Her horse slid on its haunches straight down the bank in a cloud of flying sand and dust. Soldiers, scientists sci-entists and priests followed her waving wav-ing hand, infected by her gaiety. From the lady's mood the merienda meri-enda took its tone. Music was wild and abandoned, jests in Spanish and French were bandied about with great good humor, whether any understood un-derstood them or not. Don Pedro had sent hasty messages to San Francisco- and to the Presidio at Santa Barbara inviting the officers of the two garrisons to the celebration, celebra-tion, and they had arrived with their wives and children. There were the officers of the Presidio of Monterey and their families. And there were the wife and children chil-dren of the Governor. He looked around for them. The children were playing wildly with other children, and La Gobernadora was talking and laughing vivaciously. He frowned. There was something almost al-most hysterical about her manner. Ah, he had enjoyed the visit with the Frenchmen but was privately thankful they would soon be gone. While the party was progressing noisily Eulalia retreated into her own thoughts. What had she said to Dagelet? And what had he said to her? "Come!" Could she? Was it possible? pos-sible? Her breath came more quick ly at the thought Her mind painted a picture for her, moving rapidly Into a nebulous future; she saw herself her-self wrapped in a mantle . . . slipping across the sand . . . lifted into a boat She could even hear the sound of muffled oars. Then she was on a ship. But here the vision broke. She would be seasick! But she braced herself. Seasick or no seasick, she would go. Must go! California would be left behind, and the world would be before her! "I must" she whispered to herself. "I shall!" Engrossed in her dream, unconscious uncon-scious that the picnic party was moving away, she found herself with her husband, the priest Lasuen, and La Perouse. The Governor silently silent-ly lifted his lady to her saddle, and the four rode to the top of the cliff. When they reached there, the Governor Gov-ernor turned his horse toward the ocean where the sinking sun was suspended between two banks of clouds like a glowing Chinese lantern. lan-tern. "I almost wish I were sailing away into that sunset with you, Senor el Conde," he said wistfully. "I wish I were." "Ah, the sunset makes me sad, homesick!" sighed Eulalia. That is natural, said the priest quietly. "I too am homesick." "You?" asked Eulalia. "For what place?" "For my heavenly home," murmured mur-mured the old man. "I am homesick also." La Perouse Pe-rouse spoke in a low tone. "I am homesick for my native land, which is so far from me. La Belle France!" "I am homesick for my homeland home-land to, Senor el Conde," replied Eulalia. "For Spain, the province of Catalonia, Barcelona." "We all seem homesick," observed ob-served La Perouse, "except his Excellency. Ex-cellency. Are you not homesick too?" (TO BE COXTIXUED) |