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principal had got away； but he had identified his confederate； and
for the first time held a clue to his mysterious visitant。 There
was no use to alarm the household； which did not seem to have been
disturbed。 The trespassers were far away by this time； and the
attempt would hardly be repeated that night。 He made his way
quietly back to the corral； let loose his horse； and regained the
casa unobserved。 He unlocked the arched door in the wall； reentered
the darkened passage； stopped a moment to open the door of the
boudoir； glance at the closely fastened casement； and extinguish the
still burning candle； and； relocking the door securely； made his way
to his own room。
But he could not sleep。 The whole incident； over so quickly； had
nevertheless impressed him deeply； and yet like a dream。 The
strange yell of the vacquero still rang in his ears； but with an
unearthly and superstitious significance that was even more
dreamlike in its meaning。 He awakened from a fitful slumber to find
the light of morning in the room； and Incarnacion standing by his
bedside。
The yellow face of the steward was greenish with terror； and his
lips were dry。
〃Get up； Senor Clarencio； get up at once； my master。 Strange things
have happened。 Mother of God protect us！〃
Clarence rolled to his feet； with the events of the past night
struggling back upon his consciousness。
〃What mean you； Nascio？〃 he said； grasping the man's arm； which was
still mechanically making the sign of the cross； as he muttered
incoherently。 〃Speak； I command you！〃
〃It is Jose； the little vacquero； who is even now at the padre's
house； raving as a lunatic； stricken as a madman with terror！ He
has seen him；the dead alive！ Save us！〃
〃Are you mad yourself； Nascio？〃 said Clarence。 〃Whom has he seen？〃
〃Whom？ God help us！ the old padronSenor Peyton himself！ He
rushed towards him here； in the patio； last nightout of the air；
the sky； the ground； he knew not；his own self； wrapped in his old
storm cloak and hat； and riding his own horse；erect； terrible； and
menacing； with an awful hand upholding a ropeso！ He saw him with
these eyes； as I see you。 What HE said to him； God knows！ The
priest； perhaps； for he has made confession！〃
In a flash of intelligence Clarence comprehended all。 He rose
grimly and began to dress himself。
〃Not a word of this to the women；to any one； Nascio； dost thou
understand？〃 he said curtly。 〃It may be that Jose has been
partaking too freely of aguardiente；it is possible。 I will see
the priest myself。 But what possesses thee？ Collect thyself； good
Nascio。〃
But the man was still trembling。
〃It is not all；Mother of God！ it is not all； master！〃 he
stammered； dropping to his knees and still crossing himself。 〃This
morning； beside the corral； they find the horse of Pedro Valdez
splashed and spattered on saddle and bridle； and in the stirrup；
dost thou hear？ the STIRRUP；hanging； the torn…off boot of Valdez！
Ah； God！ The same as HIS！ Now do you understand？ It is HIS
vengeance。 No！ Jesu forgive me！ it is the vengeance of God！〃
Clarence was staggered。
〃And you have not found Valdez？ You have looked for him？〃 he said；
hurriedly throwing on his clothes。
〃Everywhere；all over the plain。 The whole rancho has been out
since sunrise；here and there and everywhere。 And there is
nothing！ Of course not。 What would you？〃 He pointed solemnly to
the ground。
〃Nonsense！〃 said Clarence； buttoning his coat and seizing his hat。
〃Follow me。〃
He ran down the passage； followed by Incarnacion； through the
excited； gesticulating crowd of servants in the patio； and out of
the back gate。 He turned first along the wall of the casa towards
the barred window of the boudoir。 Then a cry came from Incarnacion。
They ran quickly forward。 Hanging from the grating of the window；
like a mass of limp and saturated clothes； was the body of Pedro
Valdez； with one unbooted foot dangling within an inch of the
ground。 His head was passed inside the grating and fixed as at that
moment when the first spring of the frightened horse had broken his
neck between the bars as in a garrote； and the second plunge of the
terrified animal had carried off his boot in the caught stirrup when
it escaped。
CHAPTER XI。
The winter rains were over and gone； and the whole long line of
Californian coast was dashed with color。 There were miles of yellow
and red poppies； leagues of lupines that painted the gently rounded
hills with soft primary hues； and long continuous slopes； like low
mountain systems； of daisies and dandelions。 At Sacramento it was
already summer； the yellow river was flashing and intolerable； the
tule and marsh grasses were lush and long； the bloom of cottonwood
and sycamore whitened the outskirts of the city； and as Cyrus
Hopkins and his daughter Phoebe looked from the veranda of the
Placer Hotel； accustomed as they were to the cool trade winds of the
coast valleys； they felt homesick from the memory of eastern heats。
Later； when they were surveying the long dinner tables at the table
d'hote with something of the uncomfortable and shamefaced loneliness
of the provincial； Phoebe uttered a slight cry and clutched her
father's arm。 Mr。 Hopkins stayed the play of his squared elbows and
glanced inquiringly at his daughter's face。 There was a pretty
animation in it； as she pointed to a figure that had just entered。
It was that of a young man attired in the extravagance rather than
the taste of the prevailing fashion； which did not； however； in the
least conceal a decided rusticity of limb and movement。 A long
mustache； which looked unkempt； even in its pomatumed stiffness； and
lank； dark hair that had bent but never curled under the barber's
iron； made him notable even in that heterogeneous assembly。
〃That's he；〃 whispered Phoebe。
〃Who？〃 said her father。
Alas for the inconsistencies of love！ The blush came with the name
and not the vision。
〃Mr。 Hooker；〃 she stammered。
It was； indeed； Jim Hooker。 But the role of his exaggeration was
no longer the same； the remorseful gloom in which he had been
habitually steeped had changed into a fatigued； yet haughty；
fastidiousness more in keeping with his fashionable garments。 He
was more peaceful； yet not entirely placable； and； as he sat down at
a side table and pulled down his striped cuffs with his clasped
fingers； he cast a glance of critical disapproval on the general
company。 Nevertheless； he seemed to be furtively watchful of his
effect upon them； and as one or two whispered and looked towards
him； his consciousness became darkly manifest。
All of which might have intimidated the gentle Phoebe； but did not
discompose her father。 He rose； and crossing over to Hooker's
table； clapped him heartily on the back。
〃How do； Hooker？ I didn't recognize you in them fine clothes； but
Phoebe g