Concha boxed Rosa's ears twice while being dressed for the ball that evening. It was true that excitement had reigned throughout the Presidio all day, for never had a ball been so hastily planned.
Don Luis had demurred when Concha proposed it at breakfast; officially to entertain strangers not yet officially received exceeded his authority. Concha, waxing stubborn with opposition, vowed that she would give the ball herself if he did not. Business immediately afterward took the Commandante ad. in. down to the Battery at Yerba Buena. Before he left he gave orders that the large hall in the bar-racks, where balls usually were held, should be locked and the key given up to no one but himself.
He returned in the afternoon to find that Concha had outwitted him. The sala of the Commandante's house was very large. The furniture had been re-moved and the walls hung with flags, those of Spain on three sides, the Russian, borrowed by San-tiago from the ship, at the head of the room. Con-cha laughed gaily as Luis stormed about the sala rasping his spurs on the bare floor.
"Whitewashed walls for guests from St. Peters-burg!" she jeered, as Luis menaced the flags. "We have little enough to offer. Besides--what more wise than to flaunt our flag in the face of the Rus-sian bear? Their flag, of course, is a mere idle compliment. Let me tell you two things, Luis mio: this morning I invited the Russians to dance to-night, and told Padre Abella to ask all our neigh-bors of the Mission besides; and Rafaella Sal helped me to drape every one of those flags.
When I told her you might tear them down, she vowed that if you did she would dance all night with the Bostonian."
Luis lifted his shoulders and mustache to express an attitude of contemptuous resignation, but his face darkened, and a moment later he left the room and strolled up the square to the grating of Rafaella Sal.
Concha well knew that the frank gray eyes of the Bostonian--all citizens of the United States were Bostonians in that part of the world, for only Bos-ton skippers had the enterprise to venture so far--were for no one but herself. But his face was bony and freckled, and his figure less in height and vigor than her own. He was rich and well-born, but shy and very modest. Concha Arguello, La Favorita of California, was for some such dashing caballero as Don Antonio Castro of Monterey, or Ignacio Sal, the most adventurous rider of the north. Meanwhile he could look at her and adore her in secret, and Dona Rafaella Sal was very kind and danced as well as himself. He never dreamed that he was being used as a stalking horse to keep alive in the best match in the Californias the jealous desire for exclusive possession that had animated him in 1800 when he had applied through the Vice-roy of Mexico for royal consent to his marriage with the Favorita of her year. That was six years ago and never a word had come from Madrid. Luis was faithful, but men were men, and girls grew older every day. So the wise Rafaella was alter-nately indifferent and alluring, the object of more admiration than a maid could always repel, yet with wells of sentiment that only one man could dis-cover. And the American was patient, and even had he known, would not in the least have minded the use she made of him. He still could look at Concha Arguello.
William Sturgis had sailed in one of his father's ships, now six years ago, from Boston in search of health. The ship in a dense fog had gone on the rocks in the straits between the Farallones and the Bay of San Francisco. He alone, and after long hours of struggle with the wicked currents, not even knowing in what direction land might be, was flung, senseless, on the shore below the Fort.
For the next month he was an invalid in the house of the Commandante. Fortunately, his papers and money were sewn in an oilskin belt and his father's name was well known in California. Moreover, there never was a more likable youth. His illness interested all the matrons and maids of the Presidio in his fate; when he recovered, his good dancing and unselfishness gave him a permanent place in the regard of the women, while his entire absence of beauty, and his ability to hold his own in the mess room, established his position with the men.
In due course word of his plight reached Boston, and a ship was immediately despatched, not only to bring the castaway home, but with the fine ward-robe necessary to a young gentleman of his station.
But the same ship brought word of his father's death--his mother had gone long since--and as there were brothers enamored of the business he hated, he decided to remain in the country that had won his heart and given him health. For some time there was demur on the part of the authorities;
Spain welcomed no foreigners in her colonies.
