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Then came a very unpleasant episode, one which Bart hid from the Doctor, for he would not trouble him with bad news upon a night like that; but all the same it caused the lad intense annoyance, and he went off to where Joses was smoking his cigarito and staring at the stars. "Tipsy! drunk!" he exclaimed. "What! Sam and Juan? Where could they get the stuff?"
Where is your mantilla? And have you replenished your cigarito case? Is there water in the wagon?" "Nothing has been provided. Things most necessary are forgotten, no doubt. When you neglect such matters, what less could happen?" But such little breezes of temper were soon over.
She saw that he had forgotten her. She turned and went back more swiftly than she had come. Estenega was a man whose resources never failed him. He returned to the house and asked Reinaldo to smoke a cigarito and drink a bottle of wine in his room.
She opened a door and called: "Flujencio." "Well, my sister?" A dreamy-looking young man in short jacket and trousers of red silk entered the room, sombrero in one hand, a cigarito in the other. "Flujencio, you know it is said that these 'Yankees' always 'whittle' everything.
Antonia was quite as much excited in her own way, which was naturally a much quieter way; and Lopez sat under a great pecan-tree, smoking his cigarito with placid smiles and admiring glances at every one.
The latter is on deck now, smoking his eternal cigarito without knowing it, and looking at the superb scenery without seeing it. A landscape mirrored in the eye of a horse has about as much effect on the brain within as a landscape mirrored in the eye of Coronado.
Then it was explained that only as a relation did she admit his Excellency el Visconde, before her evening toilette in her duelos was made Mary would take care of him. And dismissing them with a graceful bend of her head, she returned to her doze and her cigarito.
Races whiled away their waiting moments. Then, "adios, senoritas," with heart-pangs in chorus. After a toss of aguardiente, the cigarito is lit. The beaux ride out for a glimpse of the white cliffs of the Golden Gate. The sleeping Monterey belles dream yet of yester-even. Nature smiles, a fearless virgin, with open arms. Each rancho offers hospitality.
Meanwhile the Senhor Antonio sprang to his feet and began to bluster considerably in Portuguese; but poor Barney seemed awfully crest-fallen, arid the deep concern which wrinkled his face, and the genuine regret that sounded in the tones of his voice, at length soothed the indignant Brazilian, who frowned gravely, and waving his hand, as if to signify that Barney had his forgiveness, he stalked up to the shed, lighted a cigarito, and lay down in his hammock.
"I tell you what it is, Master Bart," said Joses, suddenly coming to a halt, to roll up and light his cigarito, a practice he never gave up, "it strikes me that we've nearly got to the end of it." "End of what?" asked Bart. "This clump of hills. You see if when we get to the top here, it don't all go down full swoop like a house wall right bang to the plain."
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