The Little Lady of Lagunitas | Page 2

Peril
CHAPTER IX.
--The Stranger's Foot at Lagunitas. Valois' Spanish Bride
BOOK III.
GOING HOME TO DIXIE.--STARS AND STRIPES, OR STARS
AND BARS?

CHAPTER X.
--A Little Dinner at Judge Hardin's. The Knights of the Golden Circle
CHAPTER XI.
--"I'se gwine back to Dixie."--The Fortunes of War.--Val Verde
CHAPTER XII.
--Hood's Day.--Peachtree Creek. Valois' Last Trust.--De Gress'
Battery.--Dead on the Field of Honor
BOOK IV.
A LOST HEIRESS.--MILLIONS AT STAKE.
CHAPTER XIII.
--Mount Davidson's Magic Millions. A California Plutocracy.--The
Price of a Crime
CHAPTER XIV.
--A Mariposa Bonanza.--Natalie de Santos born in Paris.--The Queen
of the El Dorado joins the Gallic "Four Hundred"
CHAPTER XV.
--An Old Priest and a Young Artist. The Changelings
CHAPTER XVI.
-Hearing Each Other.--The Valois Heirs
CHAPTER XVII.

--Weaving Spiders.--A Coward Blow.--Marie Berard's Doom
BOOK V.
REAPING THE WHIRLWIND.
CHAPTER XVIII.
--Joe Woods Surprises a Lady. Love's Golden Nets
CHAPTER XIX.
--Lovers Once, Strangers Now. Face to Face
CHAPTER XX.
--Judge Hardin Meets his Match. A Senatorial Election.--In a Mariposa
Court Room.--The Trust fulfilled at Lagunitas

LAGUNITAS.
BOOK I.
THE LAST OF THE DONS BY THE BLUE PACIFIC.
CHAPTER I.
UNDER THE MEXICAN EAGLE.--EXIT THE
FOREIGNER.--MONTEREY, 1840.

"Caramba! Adios, Seflores!" cried Captain Miguel Peralta, sitting on
his roan charger on the Monterey bluffs. A white-sailed bark is heading
southward for Acapulco. His vaqueros tossed up their sombreros,
shouting, "Vive Alvarado! Muerte los estrangeros!"

The Pacific binds the hills of California in a sapphire zone, unflecked
by a single sail in sight, save the retreating trader, which is flitting
around "Punta de los Pinos."
It is July, 1840. The Mexican ensign flutters in the plaza of Monterey,
the capital of Alta California.
Miguel Peralta dismounts and crosses himself, murmuring, "Sea por
Dios y la Santissima Virgen."
His duty is done. He has verified the departure of the Yankee ship. It is
crowded with a hundred aliens. They are now exiles.
Gathered in by General Vallejo, the "pernicious foreigners" have been
held at Monterey, until a "hide drogher" comes into the port. Alvarado
permits her to anchor under the guns of the hill battery. He then seizes
the ship for his use.
Captain Peralta is given the honor of casting out these Ishmaels of
fortune. He views calmly their exit. It is a land which welcomes not the
"Gringo." The ship-master receives a draft on Acapulco for his
impressed service. These pioneer argonauts are warned (on pain of
death) not to return. It is a day of "fiesta" in Monterey. "Vive
Alvarado!" is the toast.
So, when Captain Miguel dashes into the Plaza, surrounded with his
dare-devil retainers, reporting that the vessel is off shore, the rejoicing
is unbounded.
Cannons roar: the yells of the green jacket and yellow scrape brigade
rise on the silent reaches of the Punta de los Pinos. A procession winds
up to the Carmel Mission. Governor Alvarado, his staff, the leading
citizens, the highest families, and the sefioritas attend a mass of
thanksgiving. Attired in light muslins, with here and there a
bright-colored shawl giving a fleck of color, and silk kerchiefs
--fleecy--the ladies' only other ornaments are the native flowers which
glitter on the slopes of Monterey Bay. Bevies of dark-eyed girls steal
glances at Andres, Ramon, or Jose, while music lends a hallowing

charm to the holy father's voice as he bends before the decorated altar.
Crowds of mission Indians fill the picturesque church. Every heart is
proud. Below their feet sleeps serenely good Fray "Junipero Serra." He
blessed this spot in 1770;--a man of peace, he hung the bells on the
green oaks in a peaceful wilderness. High in air, to-day they joyously
peal out a "Laus Deo." When the mystery of the mass rehearses the
awful sacrifice of Him who died for us all, a silence broods over the
worshippers. The notes of the choristers' voices slowly die away. The
population leaves the church in gay disorder.
The Bells of the Past throw their spells over the mossy church--at once
triumph, tomb, and monument of Padre Junipero. Scattered over the
coast of California, the padres now sleep in the Lethe of death. Fathers
Kino, Salvatierra, Ugarte, and sainted Serra left their beautiful works of
mercy from San Diego to Sonoma. With their companions, neither
unknown tribes, lonely coasts, dangers by land and sea, the burning
deserts of the Colorado, nor Indian menaces, prevented the linking
together of these outposts of peaceful Christianity. The chain of
missions across New Mexico and Texas and the Mexican religious
houses stretches through bloody Arizona. A golden circlet!
Happy California! The cross here preceded the sword. No blood stains
the Easter lilies of the sacrifice. The Dons and Donnas greet each other
in stately fashion, as the gathering disperses. Governor Alvarado gives
a feast to the notables. The old families are all represented at the