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"So I hear," replied the young officer soberly. "It is horribly unlucky." "We start to-morrow," added Coronado. "To-morrow!" replied Thurstane, with a look of dismay. "I hope you will be with us," said Coronado. "Everything goes wrong," exclaimed the annoyed lieutenant. "Here are some of my stores damaged, and I have had to ask for a board of survey.
You will see Indian pueblos which have not changed materially since the brave days when Coronado came to Taos and the Spanish soldiers stormed the heights of Acoma. You will hear of strange Gods and devils and of the evil eye. It is almost as though this crystalline air were indeed a great clear crystal, impervious to time, in which the past is forever encysted.
But we can make a towing cord of lariats and let it out from the shore; perhaps swing it clear across the river in that way with some paddling, you know." "It is an excellent plan," said Coronado.
About eight in the evening, as the girl was playing some trivial game of cards with Garcia in the cabin, a splashing of oars alongside called Coronado on deck. It was already dark; a sailor was standing by the manropes with a lantern; the captain was saying in a grumbling tone, "Very late, sir."
"What is she taking?" whispered Garcia. "The less said, the better. My dear uncle, you must know nothing. Do not talk of it. The walls have ears." "I know something that would be both safe and sure," persisted the old man in a still lower whisper. "Leave all with me," answered Coronado, waving his hand authoritatively. "Too many cooks spoil the broth. What has begun well will end well."
At one extremity of this silver strand, directly opposite Point Loma and close to the rhythmic surf, stands the Hotel Coronado; its west front facing the Pacific, its east side looking on the azure of the peaceful bay, beyond which rises San Diego with a population of twenty thousand souls.
While nearly every other spectator turned away in horror, he glared steadily and calmly at the corpse, repeating, "That's Injin fun, that is. That's what they brag on, that is." "Bury her outside the wall," ordered Thurstane with averted face. "And listen, all you people, not a word of this to the women." "We shall be catechised," said Coronado. "You must do the lying," replied the officer.
The report in which he tells the story of this conquest and of his disappointment is still in existence. The Cevolans defended themselves with arrows and spears, and hurled stones upon his army from the tops of their buildings. But resistance was of no avail; Cevola was conquered by Coronado, and immediately deserted by all its inhabitants who escaped death.
After a time the two men went down to a shady veranda which half encircled the house, and found Mrs. Stanley taking an accidental siesta on a sort of lounge or sofa. Being a light sleeper, like many other active-minded people, she awoke at their approach and sat up to give reception. "Mrs. Stanley, this is my uncle Garcia, my more than father," bowed Coronado.
"Let it go," he replied, waving his hand. "I can't speak more of it now." She wanted to say, "Try never to speak of it again;" but she did not dare to anger him further, and she remained silent. "Shall we go to see the dance?" he asked. "I will, if you wish it." "But you would rather stay alone?" "If you please, Coronado."
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