CHAPTER XXIII

THE NEW ARRIVAL

"Take my horse," said Brannan, hurriedly. "I'll stay here with Benito." He bundled the excited Stanley and Nathan Spear out of the room, where Benito still slept under the spell of the doctor's opiate. "You, too," he told the miner, "you've had too much red liquor to play the nurse." He closed the door after them.

The young contractor spoke first. "By the eternal, I never thought of that! I'm glad she had a woman with her."

He spurred his horse toward Telegraph, Hill, as it had begun to be known, since signals were flashed from its crest, announcing the arrival of vessels. Down its farther slope was the little rancho of Dona Briones, where Inez in her extremity had sought the good friend of her childhood.

Adrian's thought leaped forward into coming years. Inez and he together, always together as the years passed. And between them a son--intuitively he felt that it would be a son--a successor, taking up their burdens as they laid them down; bearing their name, their ideals, purposes along, down the pageant of time.

He paid little heed as they passed through a huddle of huts, tents and lean-tos on the southern ascent. Though the hour was late, many windows were light and sounds of revelry came dimly, as though muffled, from curtain-hid interiors. There was something furtive and ill-omened about this neighborhood which one sensed rather than perceived. Spear rode close and touched Adrian's arm.

"Sydney town," he whispered, meaningly. "The hang-out of our convict citizens from Australia, those eastern toughs and plug-uglies of the Seventh regiment who came here to feather their nests. Do you know what they've done? Formed a society called The Hounds. Appropriate, isn't it? Your friend McTurpin's one of them. Thanks to you, they've lost a valued member."

"Hounds?" said Adrian. His thought still forged ahead. "Oh, yes, I've heard about them. They are going to drive out the foreigners."

"Loot them, more likely," Spear returned, disgustedly; "then us, if we don't look out. Mark my word, they'll give us trouble. Alcalde Leavenworth's too careless by half."

Stanley, paying scant attention, suddenly leaned forward in his saddle. At one of the windows a curtain was drawn back; a woman's face appeared for a moment silhouetted against inner light; then as swiftly withdrew.

"Who was that?" asked Adrian, involuntarily reining in his mount. "Not--"

"Rosa Terranza," said Spear excitedly.

They listened. From within the tent-house came a sound of hasty movements, whispering. The light winked out. A bolt was shot; then silence.

"I'll bet, by Jupiter, McTurpin's there," cried Adrian.

"And that he's hurt," Spear added. "What shall we do?"

"Let them be," decided Stanley, clucking to his horse. "My duty's ahead." He took the steep pitch of the hillside almost at a gallop and soon they were descending again into that little settlement of waterside and slope called North Beach. Juana Briones' place had been its pioneer habitation. Her hospitable gate stood always invitingly open. Through the branches of a cypress lights could be seen. The front door stood ajar and about it were whispering women. Adrian's heart leaped. Was something amiss? He dismounted impetuously, throwing the reins to an Indian who had come out evidently to do them service. Spear followed as he rushed through the door. There stood Dona Briones, finger on lip, demanding silence. Her face was grave.

"How--how is she? How is Inez?" Adrian stammered.

"The doctor's with her. Everything will be all right, I think. But make no noise. Go in that room and sit down."

Adrian threw up his hands. "My God, woman! How can I sit still when--when--?"

"Walk up and down, then," said Juana, "but take off your shoes."

Which Adrian finally did. It seemed to him that he had paced the tiny chamber a thousand times. He heard movements, voices in the next room; now and then his wife's moan and the elder woman's soothing accents. Then a silence which seemed century long, a silence fraught with unimaginable terror. It was broken by a new sound, high pitched, feeble, but distinct; the cry of a child. Helplessly Adrian subsided into a chair beside Nathan Spear. "Do you hear that?" he asked, mopping his forehead.

"Yes, I heard it," said the other non-committally.

"I can't stand this any longer," Adrian exclaimed. "I'm going in there. I--I've got to know--"

He rose, determinedly, shaking off Spear's detaining arm. In the doorway stood Dr. Jones. Again came the tiny cry. "It's a boy," said the medico, and held out his hand.

But Adrian caught him by the shoulders. "My wife?" he asked. "How is she? Is there any--"

"Danger? No, it's over," said the doctor. "Sit down and calm yourself."

Adrian relaxed a trifle. Finally his set face softened; he laughed.

* * * * *

It was the evening of July 14, 1849. Stanley stood over the cradle of his son, looking worshipfully down at the tiny sleeping face. Inez Stanley, busied with the varied tasks of motherhood, came and stood for a moment beside him. She voiced that platitude of wives and mothers in their pride: "He looks just like you, Adrian."

Stanley put his hands upon her shoulders. "Got your mouth, your big eyes," he said, and kissed her.

They were wont to quarrel tenderly over this. But tonight Inez looked seriously up at her husband. Suddenly she hid her face upon his shoulder.

"If only--if only--" she whispered, "he wouldn't grow up. And we wouldn't grow old."

Stanley's fingers on her hair stroked gently. "Life is life, my dear," he said at last. "Let us not question the inexorable too deeply. Yesterday is gone, you know. Tomorrow never comes.... And here we are together in the best town in the world. With love, good prospects ... our little Francisco--"

"He will live to see a great city," said Inez, comforted. "He will help to make it." Her eyes were prophetic. The child stirred and hastily they withdrew, lowering the light so that his slumber might be undisturbed. A light tap sounded at the door and Adrian answered.

Spear and Brannan with Benito stood upon the threshold. The latter entered, kissed his sister and was shown the sleeping child. "How is Alice?" Inez asked.

"Well. And the best little wife in the world," Benito answered. His eyes glowed happily. "The tiny Francisco is growing like a weed. Only ten months old--"

"Nine months, two weeks and three days," said his mother, glibly. "Won't you all come in and see the baby?" she invited.

"No," Spear answered. "We must steal your husband for a' little while. There's business at the City Hall...."

"Adrian's become a prominent citizen, you know," he added at her look of pouting protest.

She brought her husband's hat. "Don't be long," she urged, and smiled a good-bye from the threshold. When he heard the door shut, Adrian turned on Brannan. "What's up?"

"Plenty," said the other meaningly. "The Hounds have broken out. They looted Little Chili about dark tonight and one of them was shot. They threaten to burn the foreign quarter. They're arming. There's trouble afoot."

"And what do you want of me?" Stanley questioned.

"Damn it! Wake up, man!" cried Spear. "A citizens' committee. We're going to enforce the law--if it takes a rope."

##