A Vendetta of the Hills

It was the Sunday morning that had been fixed for the visit to the home of Mr. Ricardo Robles, when the cattle foreman could at last conscientiously take a day of recreation. With the first break of dawn he and Munson were in the saddle, for they had been invited to breakfast at La Siesta before starting with the young ladies on the ride through the oak forest.

The visitors arrived early, but not too early for their hostesses. Grace and Merle were waiting to welcome them in the portico, looking more charming than ever in their neat riding suits of khaki.

“We saw you cross the bridge,” declared Grace, “and mother has gone in to order breakfast to be served. You must be hungry after your early start.”

“Oh, Sing Ling didn’t let us go without a cup of coffee,” laughed Dick. “But I fancy we’ll do full justice, all right, to the bountiful fare of La Siesta.”

It proved to be a delightful meal in every way, the viands seasoned with gay repartee and laughter. A full hour had sped before Dick recalled the real object of the day’s excursion.

“We usually walk to Mr. Robles’ place,” remarked Merle. “It is only a mile or so by the short cuts up the hill, but by the winding road it is very much longer. So we ordered our ponies.”

“I see,” smiled Munson, “to prolong the pleasure of our foursome among the oaks.”

“Not at all, sir,” retorted Grace. “The climb on foot is a stiff one, and we knew that you must be out of condition from the lazy life you are living.”

“I am only waiting for Willoughby to give me a cowboy’s job,” replied the ex-lieutenant.

“I don’t know if there will be any cowboy jobs going,” observed Willoughby. “It’s my belief that San Antonio Rancho is sold and is going to be broken up into small holdings.”

“Oh, what a pity!” exclaimed Merle.

“From one point of view, perhaps,” answered Dick. “But from a hundred other points of view, what a blessing! There will be a dozen happy homes for every steer the range now feeds!”

“But La Siesta will remain just as it is,” cried Grace.

“That will be all right,” replied Dick, gallantly, “It’s already a happy home.”

The ladies smiled pleasantly.

“Then this will mean the elimination of Mr. Ben Thurston,” observed Mrs. Darlington.

“The greatest blessing of all,” declared Merle, clapping her hands. “You see, I am already converted to the change, Mr. Willoughby,” she added merrily.

“But what about my job?” asked Munson in mock dolefulness.

“Consult Mr. Robles,” laughed Grace. “He may take pity on you, and find you a place as handy man on his estate.”

In merry mood they all sallied forth. The saddle horses were waiting, and standing beside them was an elderly Spanish woman.

“Tia Teresa, Mr. Munson,” said Mrs. Darlington by way of introduction.

Munson had often enough heard the name, and in answer to an inquiry, Willoughby had told him that the old dame had been the personal attendant of the two young ladies ever since they could remember. Tia or Aunt Teresa was now more a friend of the family than a servant of the house, and, taking her hand in salutation, Munson treated her with the affable courtesy that was her due.

“I am glad to make your acquaintance,” he said, raising his hat.

Tia Teresa looked pleased. Despite her seventy years, she was a buxom and splendidly preserved woman, and there was still the flash of youthfulness in her big dark eyes.

“You will look after my little girls,” she said, as she gathered together the folds of her black lace mantilla. “By rights I should be coming with you, too,” she added, in the manner of a true Spanish duenna.

“You forget that we are home again – in free America,” laughed Merle as she settled herself in the saddle.

“Too free, I sometimes think,” rejoined Tia Teresa. “But there is safety in four,” she added, turning with a smile to Mrs. Darlington.

And as the young folks rode away she waved them a pleasant adios.

CHAPTER X – The Home of the Recluse

AT a gentle pace they wound their way through the forest of magnificent old oaks.

As for Munson, riding by Grace Darlington’s side, the miles were the shortest he had ever before traversed. It seemed only a few minutes before the red tiled roof and towers of a house built in the California Mission style were gleaming through the trees only a short distance ahead.

Great oaken doors closed the arched gateway, but at the clatter of hoofs and the sound of voices, a little peep-hole wicket was withdrawn. The inspection by unseen eyes apparently was satisfactory, for a moment later a postern was opened, and two men, Mexicans obviously by their garb and deferential manner, emerged to take and lead away the horses. Within the patio stood Senor Robles, his usually grave face lighted by a smile of cordial welcome.

“Let me tell you, young men,” he said while shaking hands, “that while Grace and Merle are quite at home here, you are the very first strangers who have passed through my portals.”

“Strangers no longer then,” said Dick, good-naturedly.

“Precisely,” replied Mr. Robles, “or you would not be here. But I foresee that all of us are going to be very close friends. Isn’t that so, Grace, my dear?”

“I’m sure I cannot say,” replied Grace, with a smile of demure innocence toward Mr. Munson. Then she turned to Mr. Robles with a roguish twinkle in her eye. “But I’ve news for you. Mr. Munson has resigned from the army and is looking for a job.”

“Both facts are already known to me,” answered Robles, smiling.

“Oh,” exclaimed Grace, “one can never surprise you, Mr. Robles. Although you live the life of a hermit, you seem to be always the first to learn everything that is going on.”

“A hermit, my dear, need not necessarily be out of touch with the world,” replied Robles, playfully pinching her ear. “And now, Mr. Willoughby, you came specially to see my pictures. Lead the way, Merle. Gentlemen, I say again – welcome to my mountain home.”

They lingered awhile in the patio to admire the marble columns of the cloister that ran all around, the playing fountains at each of the four comers, with groups of symbolical statuary, the wealth of beautiful shrubs and flowers. On the side opposite to the gateway rose a tall tower, fashioned like the campanile of an Old Mission and crowned with bright red tiles.

“We shall ascend there later on,” remarked Mr. Robles, following Dick’s upward glance.

Then they passed through the wide-opened French window into the living rooms.

The first was a great apartment that occupied one entire side of the building. In the centre was a large globe of the world. Here and there were glass cases displaying manuscripts and illuminated missals. Along the walls were finely-carved bookcases filled with several thousands of volumes.

“When you have the leisure you can come and browse here,” said the host, addressing both young men. “Meanwhile you may care to look at the bronzes and statuary” – this with a sweep of the hand that indicated the art treasures distributed about the apartment.

On the side of the house beneath the tower were the dining room and the billiard and smoking room. Passing through these, the visitors came to the picture gallery, a room corresponding in size to the library. Here were hung treasures of the painter’s art, masterpieces signed by names that are immortal. These, as their owner again explained, had been acquired by him during several prolonged visits to Europe.

“Count this just as a preliminary survey, Mr. Willoughby,” he said finally. “Then come again. There are guest chambers on either side of the gateway, and one of these will always be at your disposal when I am at home. I extend the same invitation to you, Mr. Munson.”

“My word, but you may feel honored,” exclaimed Grace, in unconcealed amazement.

“When I open my gates, I open my heart as well,” said Mr. Robles, with a courtly little bow to his new friends.

Next they ascended the tower. Its first floor, above the living rooms, was a delightful den filled with curios of all kinds. From this sprang a winding iron staircase, up which Mr. Robles led the way.

The upper chamber, extending on all sides some distance beyond the supporting tower, proved larger than might have been expected. Its one conspicuous article of furniture was a great terrestrial telescope. The sliding panels of glass which formed a complete window all around the room showed that the instrument could be used without obstruction in any direction.