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Updated: June 2, 2025
The unshaken affection of the child for whom she struggled, who can always, in ignorance of the dark past, lift happy eyes to hers and call her in love, by the holy name of mother. With bowed head and thankful heart, Padre Francisco's thoughts linger around beautiful Lagunitas. Its groves and forest arches, its mirrored lake, its smiling beauties and fruitful fields, return to him.
Its records have been all turned over to him. He quietly destroys the whole mass of papers left at Lagunitas by the priest. As for the marriage papers of her parents and certificate of baptism of Isabel, he conceals them, ready for destruction at a moment's notice. He will wait till the seven years elapse before filing legal proof of Maxime Valois' death.
The prize is at last within his grasp. It shall be his alone! Lighting a fresh cigar he paces the room, a human tiger. There is but one frail girl child between him and Lagunitas, with its uncoined millions. He must act.
Patriot, pioneer, and leader, the Commandante travels from Sutter's Fort to Los Angeles. He goes away light-hearted. The young wife has a bright-eyed girl to fondle when the chief is in the saddle. Happiness fills the parents' hearts. The baptism occasions the greatest feast of Lagunitas. But, from the coast, as fall draws near, rumors of trouble disturb the San Joaquin.
Philip Hardin, seated on the porch of the old mansion at Lagunitas, reads the eulogies crowding the columns of fifty journals. From San Diego to Siskiyou one general voice hails the new-made member of that august body, who are now so rapidly giving America "Roman liberties." The friend of Mammon, nurtured in conspiracy, skilled in deceit, Hardin, the hidden Mokanna, grins behind his silver veil.
In the brief and formal verification of all these facts, the Court finds an opportunity to at once establish the identity of the heiress of Lagunitas. For, there is no contest now. In formal devotion to the profession, Hardin's lawyer represents the estate of the dark schemer. The legal tangles yield to final proofs. There is a family party at Lagunitas once more.
They can never stand before us. The whole truth is, the Mexican must go! We stopped the war a little too soon here. They are now protected by the treaty, but we will litigate them out of all their grants. Keep your eye on Lagunitas. It may come into the market. Gold will be the fool's beacon here for some time. These great valleys will yet be the real wealth of the new State.
He may some day tell the little lady of Lagunitas, of the gallant father whose thoughts, before his last battle, were only for the beloved "little one." She is confided, as a trust, from the dying to Judge Hardin. She is surely safe in the sheltering care of Valois' oldest friend. A "Southern gentleman."
If allowed to embark on them, he will be left, after doubling Cape Horn, a stranger in the north, penniless. Why not stay? Yet the shelter of Lagunitas is his no more. The maddened Don will not see an American on the bare lands left to him. His herds and flocks are levied on to feed the troops. Many an hour does the youth confer with Francois Ribaut. The priest is dependent on his patron.
The old soldier sighs to think that the struggle may break out between divided factions of native Californians. The foreigners may gain foothold in California while its real owners quarrel. The second winter at Lagunitas gives way to spring. Rapidly increasing herds need for their care all the force of the ranch. From the coast plentiful supplies provided by the Commandante arrive.
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