XV

The Chamberlain was in a towering bad humor. As he made his appearance

at least two hours earlier than he was expected, he found the decks of

the Juno covered with the skins of sea-dogs, foxes, and birds. He had

heard Langsdorff go to his cabin later than usual the night before, and

that his pet aversion was the cause of a fresh grievance, but hastened

the eruption of his smouldering resentment toward life in general.

"What does this mean?" he roared to the sailor on watch. "Clear them

off--overboard, every one of them. What are you staring at?"

The sailor, who was a "Bostonian," an inheritance with the ship, opened

his mouth in favor of the unfortunate professor, but like his mates, he

stood in much awe of a master whose indulgence demanded implicit

obedience in return. Without further ado, he flung the skins into the

sea.

Rezanov, to do him justice, would not have acted otherwise had he risen

in the best of tempers. He had inflicted himself with the society of

the learned doctor that he might always have a physician and surgeon at

hand, as well as an interpreter where Latin was the one door of

communication. He should pay him handsomely, make him a present in

addition to the sum agreed upon, but he had not the least intention of

giving up any of the Juno's precious space to the vagaries of a

scientist, nor to submit to the pollution of her atmosphere.

Langsdorff was his creature, and the sooner he realized the fact the

better.

"Remember," he said to the sailor, "no more of this, or it will be the

worse for you-- What is this?" He had come upon a pile of ducks,

gulls, pelicans, and other aquatic birds. "Are these the cook's or the

professor's?"

"The professor's, Excellency."

"Overboard." And the birds followed the skins.

Rezanov turned to confront the white and trembling Langsdorff. The

naturalist was enfolded in a gorgeous Japanese dressing-gown, purple

brocade embroidered with gold, that he had surreptitiously bought in

the harbor of Nagasaki. To Rezanov it was like a red rag to a bull;

but the professor was oblivious at the moment of the tactless garment.

His eyes were glaring and the extended tip of his nose worked like a

knife trying to leap from its sheath. But although he occasionally

ventured upon a retort when goaded too far in conversation, he was able

to curb his just indignation when the Chamberlain was in a bad temper.

In that vague gray under winking stars in their last watch, Rezanov

seemed to tower six feet above him.

"Excellency," he murmured.

"Well?"

"My--my specimens."

"Your what?"

"The cause of science is very dear to me, Excellency."

"So it is to me--in its proper place. Were those skins yours?" His

voice became very suave. "I am sorry you should have fatigued yourself

for nothing, but I am forced to remind you that this is not an

expedition undertaken for the promotion of natural history. I am not

violating my part in the contract, I believe. Upon our arrival at

Sitka you are at liberty to remain as my guest and make use of the

first boat that sails for this colony; but for the present I beg that

you will limit yourself to the requirements of your position on my

staff."

He turned his back and ordered a canoe to be lowered. Since the

arrival of the Governor and Commandante, now three days ago, all

restrictions on his liberty had been removed, and the phrases of

hospitality were a trifle less meaningless. He had been asked to give

his word to keep away from the fortifications, and as he knew quite as

much of the military resources of the country as he desired, he had

merely suppressed a smile and given his promise.

This morning he wanted nothing but a walk. He had slept badly, the

blood was in his head, his nerves were on edge. He went rapidly along

the beach and over the steep hills that led to the north-eastern point

of the peninsula. But he had taken the walk before and did not turn

his head to look at the great natural amphitheater formed by the inner

slopes of those barren heights, so uninteresting of outline from the

water. Once when Luis had left him to go down with an order to the

Battery of Yerba Buena, he had examined it critically and concluded

that never had there been so fine a site for a great city. Nor a more

beautiful, with the broken line of the San Bruno mountains in the

distance and a glimpse of the Mission valley just beyond this vast

colosseum, whose steep imposing lines were destined by nature to be set

with palaces and bazaars, minarets and towers and churches, with a

thousand gilded domes and slender crosses glittering in the crystal air

and sunlight. If not another Moscow, then an Irkutsk in his day, at

least.

But he did not give the chosen site of his city a glance to-day,

although in this gray air before dawn when mystery and imagination most

closely embrace, he might at another time have forgotten himself in one

of those fits of dreaming that slipped him out of touch with realities,

and sometimes precipitated action in a manner highly gratifying to his

enemies.

But much as he loved Russia, there were times when he loved his own way

more, and since the arrival of Governor Arrillaga he was beginning to

feel as he had felt in the harbor of Nagasaki. Not a word since that

first interview had been said of his cargo; nor even of the treaty,

although nothing could have been more natural than the discussion of

details. Whenever he had delicately broached either subject, he had

been met with a polite indifference, that had little in common with the

cordiality otherwise shown him. He foresaw that he might be obliged to

reveal the more pressing object of his visit without further diplomacy,

and the thought irritated him beyond endurance.

Whether Concha were giving him her promised aid he had no means of

discovering, and herein lay another cause of his general vexation. He

had dined every day at the Commandante's, danced there every night.

Concha had been vivacious, friendly--impersonal. Not so much as a

coquettish lift of the brow betrayed that the distinguished stranger

eclipsed the caballeros for the moment; nor a whispered word that he

retained the friendship she had offered him on the day of their

meeting. He had not, indeed, had a word with her alone. But his

interest and admiration had deepened. It was evident that her father

and the Governor adored her, would deny her little. Her attitude to

them was alternately that of the petted child and the chosen companion.

As her mother was indisposed, she occupied her place at the table,

presiding with dignity, guiding the conversation, revealing the rare

gift of making everyone appear at his best. In the evening she had

sometimes danced alone for a few moments, but more often with her

Russian guests, and readily learning the English country dances they

were anxious to teach. Rezanov would have found the gay informality of

these evenings delightful had his mind been at ease about his Sitkans,

and Concha a trifle more personal. He had begun by suspecting that she

was maneuvering for his scalp, but he was forced to acquit her; for not

only did she show no provocative favor to another, but she seemed to

have gained in dignity and pride since his arrival, actually to have

kissed her hand in farewell to the childhood he had been so slow in

divining; grown--he felt rather than analyzed--above the pettiness of

coquetry. Once more she had stirred the dormant ideals of his early

manhood; there were moments when she floated before his inner vision as

the embodiment of the world's beauty. Nor ever had there been a woman

born more elaborately equipped for the position of a public man's mate;

nor more ingenerate, perhaps, with the power to turn earth into heaven.

He had wondered humorously if he were fallen in love, but, although he

retained little faith in the activities of the heart after youth, he

was beginning seriously to consider the expedience of marrying Concha

Arguello. He had not intended to marry again, and it was this old and

passionate love of personal freedom that alone held him back, for

nothing would be so advantageous to the Russian colonies in their

present crisis as a strong individual alliance with California. Concha

Arguello was the famous daughter of its first subject, and with the

powerful friends she would bring to her husband, the consummation of

ends dearer to his heart than aught on earth would be a matter of

months instead of years. And he thrilled with pride as he thought of

Concha in St. Petersburg. Two years of court life and she would be one

of the greatest ladies in Europe. That he could win her he believed,

and without undue vanity. He had much to offer an ambitious girl

conscious of her superiority to the men of this province of Spain, and

chafing at the prospect of a lifetime in a bountiful desert. His only

hesitation lay in his own doubt if she were worth the loss of his

freedom, and all that word involved to a man of his position and

adventurous spirit.

He shrugged his shoulders at this argument; he had walked off some of

his ill-humor, and reverted willingly to a theme that alone had given

him satisfaction during the past few days. At the same time he made a

motion as if flinging aside an old burden.

"It is time for such nonsense to end," he thought contemptuously. "And

in truth these three years should have wrought such changes in me I

doubt I should have patience for an hour of the old trifling. My

greatest need from this time on, I fancy, is work. I could never be

idle a month again. And when a man is in love with work--and

power--and has passed forty--does he want a constant companion? That

is the point. At my time of life power exercises the most irresistible

and lasting of all fascinations. A man that wins it has little left

for a woman."

He had reached the summit of the rocky outpost; the highest of the

hills where the peninsula turned abruptly to the south, and,

scrupulously refraining from a downward glance at the Battery of Yerba

Buena, stood looking out over the bay to the eastern mountains: dark,

almost formless, wrapped in the intense and menacing mystery of that

last hour before dawn.

"Senor!" called a low cautious voice.

Rezanov stepped hastily back from the point of the bluff and glanced

about in wonder, his pulses suddenly astir. But he could see no one.

This time the direction was unmistakable, and he went to the edge of

the plateau facing the south and looked over. Halfway down a shallow

and almost perpendicular gully, he saw a girl forcing a mustang up the

harsh, loose path. The girl's white and oval face looked from the

folds of a black reboso like the moon emerging from clouds, and its

young beauty was out of place in that wild and forbidding setting. She

reined in her horse as she caught his eye and beckoned superfluously;

then guided her mustang to a little ledge where he could plant his feet

firmly, permitting her to reassume her usual pride of carriage and

averting the danger of a sudden scramble or need of assistance.

As Rezanov reached her side, she gave him a grave and friendly smile,

but no opportunity to kiss her hand.

"I have followed your excellency," she said. "I saw you leave the

Juno, and as I am often up at this hour, and as no one else ever is, my

father ignores the fact that I sometimes ride alone. I have never come

as far as this before, but there is something I wish to say to you, and

there is no opportunity at home. I asked Santiago to find me one last

night, but he was in a bad temper and would not. Men! However--I

suppose you have heard nothing of the cargo?"

"I have not," said Rezanov grimly, although acutely sensible that the

subject suited neither his mood nor the hour.

"But the Governor has! Madre de Dios! all the women of the Presidio

and the Mission have pestered him. They are sick with jealousy at the

shawls you gave us that day--those that did not go to the ship. How

clever of your excellency to give us just enough for ourselves and

nothing for our friends! And those that went want more and more. They

have called upon him--one, two, four, and alone. They have wept and

scolded and pleaded. I did not know until yesterday that your

commissary had also shown the things to the priests from San

Jose--Father Jose Uria and Father Pedro de la Cueva. They and the

priests of San Francisco have argued with the Governor not once but

three times. Dios! how his poor excellency swore yesterday. He

threatened to return at once to Monterey. I flew into a great rage and

threatened in turn to follow with all the other girls and all the

priests--vowed he should not have one moment of peace until that cargo

was ours."

"Well?" asked Rezanov sharply, in spite of his amusement.

Concha shook her head. "When he does not swear, he answers only: 'Buy

if you have the money. I have never broken a law of Spain, and I shall

not begin in my old age.' He knows well that we have no money to send

out of New Spain; but I have conceived a plan, senor. It is for you,

not for me, to suggest it. You will never betray that I have been your

friend, Excellency?"

"I will swear it if you wish," said Rezanov frigidly.

"Pardon, senor. If I thought you could I should not be here. One

often says such things. This is the plan: You shall suggest that we

buy your wares, and that you buy again with our money. The dear

Governor only wants to save his conscience an ache, for we have driven

him nearly distracted. I am sure he will consent, for you will know

how to put it to him very diplomatically."

"But if he refused to understand, or his conscience remained obdurate?

I should then have neither cargo nor ballast."

"He would never trick a guest, nor would he let the money go out of the

country. And he knows well how much we need your cargo and longs to be

able to state in his reports that he sold you a hold full of

breadstuffs. Moreover, I think the time has come to tell him of the

distress at Sitka. He is very soft-hearted and is now in that

distracted state of mind when only one more argument is required. I

hope I have given you good advice, Excellency. It is the best I can

think of. I have given it much thought, and the terrible state of

those miserable creatures has kept me awake many nights. I must return

now. Will your excellency kindly remain here until I am well on my

way?--and then return by the beach? I shall go as I came, through the

valley. Neither of us can be seen from the Battery."

"I will obey all your instructions," said Rezanov. But he did not move,

nor could the mustang. Concha smiled and pointed to the other side of

the cleft, which was about as wide as a narrow street.

"Pardon, senor, I cannot turn."

For a moment Rezanov stared at her, through her. Then his heavy eyes

opened and flashed. It seemed to him that for the first time he saw

how beautiful, how desirable she was, set in that gray volcanic rock

with the heavens gray above her, and the stars fading out. It was not

the bower he would have imagined for the wooing of a mate, but neither

moonlight nor the romantic glades of La Bellissima could have awakened

in him a passion so sudden and final. Her face between the black folds

turned whiter and she shrank back against the jagged wall: and when his

eyes flashed again with a wild eager hope she involuntarily crossed

herself. He threw himself against the horse and snatched her down and

kissed her as he had kissed no woman yet, recognizing her once for all.

When he finally held her at arm's length for a moment he laughed

confusedly.

"The Russian bear is no longer a figure of speech," he said. "Forgive

me. I forgot that you are as tender as you are strong."

Her hands were tightly clasped against her breast and the breath was

short in her throat, but she made no protest. Her eyes were radiant,

her mouth was the only color in that gray dawn. In a moment she too

laughed.

"Dios de mi alma! What will they say? A heretic! If Tamalpais fell

into the sea it would not make so great a sensation in this California

of ours where civilized man exists but to drive heathen souls into the

one true church."

"Will it matter to you? Are you strong enough? It will be only a

question of time to win them over, if you are."

She nodded emphatically. "I was born with strength. Now--Dios!--now I

can be stronger than the King of Spain himself, than the Governor, my

parents and all the priests-- You would not become a Catholic?" she

asked abruptly.