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Updated: May 2, 2025
Tired, weary of the crosses of fortune, he waits only to see the enemy's fires glittering from hill and cliff. With all his successes, the West has never been his home. Looking out on his far-sweeping alamedas, his thoughts turn fondly back to his native land. He is "going home to Dixie." The last weeks of Maxime Valois' stay at Lagunitas drift away. Old "Kaintuck" has plead in vain to go.
What if he should drop her? Suppose he denies her identity. He can legally reclaim the "Heiress of Lagunitas." Hortense Duval well knows that Philip Hardin will stop at nothing. As the French coast nears, Hortense mentally resolves NOT to part with Marie Berard. Marie is a valuable witness of the past relations. She is the only safeguard she has against Hardin's manifold schemes.
After a stay in Mexico, the young enthusiast reaches the shores of the distant Pacific. Commandante Miguel is delighted. Francisco Ribaut is of French blood, graceful and kindly. The Fathers of the mission hasten to provide the needs of Lagunitas chapel. The barges are loaded with supplies, councils and business despatched.
Send a letter by your agent, with a private duplicate to me, with your wishes. Natalie stands face to face with a life's decision. Can she trust Villa Rocca? By the dark bond of crime between them she must. A poor bond of crime. And the millions of Lagunitas. To yield them up. A terrible temptation. In her boudoir, Villa Rocca sums up with lightning flashes, the merits of this proposition.
Pride of race, and a bitter thirst for revenge, made Joaquin Murieta what he was, a human scourge. His boyhood, spent roaming over the interior, rendered him matchless in local topography. It was possible to disguise the fact of supplies being drawn from Lagunitas. Don Miguel was a great ranchero. As days rolled on, the plunder of the bandits was brought to the rancho.
When this State is thrown open to slavery, you will want your natural position. Maxime, you ought to have a thousand field-hands when you are master at Lagunitas. You can grow cotton there." Valois muses. He revolves in his mind the "Southern movement." Is it treason? He does not stop to ask. As he journeys to Stockton he ponders.
None of the living ever wish to pass again its shadowed portals. While waiting the time for their departure, the priest and Henry Peyton watch the splendid beauties of Lagunitas, in peaceful brotherhood. The man of war and the servant of peace are drawn towards each other strangely.
As he confers with the quick-witted ex-queen of the El Dorado, he decides that he must remove the young Mariposa heiress to San Francisco. It is done. Philip Hardin cannot travel continually to watch over a child. "Kaintuck" and the sorrowing padre alone are left at Lagunitas. The roses fall unheeded in the dead lady's bower.
Padre Francisco Ribaut married me at Lagunitas to my Dolores. Good-bye and good-night. The men gaze at each other across the table, touched by this solemn voice sweeping down the path of dead years. That lonely grave by the lines of Atlanta seemed to have opened to a dead father's love. Peyton saw the past in a new light. Valois' reckless gallantry that day was an immolation.
The priest with bell, book, and candle, gives all the honors of the Church to the last lord of Lagunitas. Hard by the chapel, the old ranchero rests surrounded by the sighing forest. It is singing the same unvarying song, breathing incense from the altars of nature over the stout soldier's tomb. He has fought the fight of his race in vain.
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