CHAPTER XIX

CONFESSION

Raquel and Georgie had been back for two days. Already some of the peóns who had fled El Escondido on the night of the raid were straggling in from the hills. They told of the exciting speeches and fine promises made by Manuel, who had also said that El Escondido would be confiscated or destroyed by the government.

But they had learned that he was nothing but _puro bandido_, not a true _revolucionista_ at all. Upon the discovery of his perfidy they had all come back, with one exception, to support their _padrón_.

So the work of the ranch was gradually resumed, and to Raquel fell the delightful task of riding over the “hidden range” to inspect her cattle. If she could only get them out of the country she would accomplish her mission after all. It only remained to wait for an opportunity.

Lois went everywhere with Raquel. She had recovered her strength. When Raquel had crept upstairs to the little balcony on the night of her return with Georgie, she had found Lois sitting by her window, dressed and waiting.

“Raquel!” Lois had leaped up joyfully. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re back! You found Georgie! I can see it in your face.”

“Yes, he’s down stairs,” Raquel smiled. “I hope you and Don Nestor weren’t too worried over my absence. We got back as soon as we could.”

“Oh, my dear, you must be exhausted. Let me help you into a fresh gown. Do lie down and I will have Concha bring you something to eat. She’s had chicken soup ready for hours, and tamales.” Lois was busy making Raquel comfortable.

“Oh, I’m not so tired,” Raquel protested. “We slept on the way about four hours, at noon time. But I’m awfully glad you’re up, Lois.”

But Raquel _was_ tired; almost too tired to rest. Finally she drank a hot potion concocted by Piedad and Don Nestor, and fell asleep. Georgie was already wrapped in noisy slumber, having eaten a preposterous meal to Piedad’s rapture.

When Raquel woke at noon the next day Lois was sitting beside her. From then on she was rarely far from Raquel’s side. At first it seemed strange to Raquel to have a girl companion constantly with her. At times it brought school days sharply back.

“How different this all is,” Lois said the next morning, as she watched Raquel dress. “I never thought I could like it down here, but do you know, Raquel, I love it.

“I’ve been thinking, lately; somehow I’ve been different; it’s been different with me, Raquel, since that ride we had over the desert. You’ve been so wonderful. I don’t see how I could ever have been so hateful to you. It seems as if it were another person.”

“Well, I guess perhaps I’m a bit different now, too,” Raquel offered awkwardly.

“You see, Raquel,” Lois went on desperately, “I hated you before I ever saw you. Jimmy Hovey always wrote such wonderful things about you and held you up to me, and I couldn’t bear it. Jimmy had always made a pet of me. And I just adored him. But he teased me too, and told me my faults. I guess I always had my own way with papa, but Jimmy would not give in to me. And that used to make me so angry. I can remember crying with rage. And then Jimmy would just walk away, and wouldn’t pay any attention to me. And _I_’d have to be the one to give in. I just hated it. But I always _did_ give in, because I was so crazy about Jimmy. And I wanted him to like me, and to admire me.

“When I grew older and went to The Towers I suppose it was just because I couldn’t wind Jimmy round my finger that I cared so much for his opinion. Of course I know it did me a lot of good--his trying to discipline me. I got a little practice in letting some one else have his own way.

“But Jimmy shouldn’t have teased me so. He should have seen how cruel it was. And when he praised you it made me hate you. Then, when you came to school, it seemed as if here was one way I could get the better of Jimmy. He couldn’t _make_ me like you if I didn’t want to.

“It was horrid and hateful, I know. Oh, Raquel, can you ever forgive me? I spoiled your school, your only school.” Lois repeated the last words anxiously. Raquel had scarcely spoken during her confession.

“It’s all right, Lois,” she said at last with some difficulty. It was hard for her to understand the complicated psychology of Lois’ experience. “I guess I was hateful to you, too, when you wanted to speak to me there once or twice. And I never told Jimmy a word about your being in the West. That was pretty bad, you know. Because he might have missed you, for all I knew.”

“But, Raquel, he is still there, isn’t he? And we shall see him when we do get back? I’ll tell him just what I did. Because it’s only right he should know. And, Raquel, I’ll tell you something else. I met your brother.”

“Yes, I know that.” Raquel grinned.

“What, he told you? When?”

“When he came up to the ranch for Christmas, he described you. You were looking at a shawl, which he promptly bought for my mother. Just because you _were_ looking at it, I guess.”

Lois blushed. “And we met him by chance driving home from a ranch Christmas afternoon. The driver lost the road and Custer, your--your brother, got out and drove in our car, and showed us the way. I didn’t know it was he, of course. I didn’t know who it was.

“But I was just crazy about him! I am yet! Only when I learned his name, I didn’t know how to act; so, as usual, I was horrid again. And I wouldn’t have done it for anything, if I could have helped it.”

Lois began to cry, her face puckered up like a baby’s. Raquel laughed outright.

“Stop, silly. What do you care? It will do old Custer good. He’s so spoiled by the girls, because he’s so handsome and has such a way with him, that it will just do him good to have a girl a little offish with him. It’ll make him all the more eager; you’ll see. Besides, he’s been perfectly crazy about you ever since he saw that picture of you when you were only twelve years old. I was dying to tell you that when I saw you at The Towers. But of course you wouldn’t have cared then, anyway.”

“Oh, Raquel, is he?” Lois looked delighted. “Of course if it had been anybody but your brother, I wouldn’t have felt guilty and wouldn’t have acted that way. Oh, I’ll have to get back if only to apologize to Custer.”

“Now wouldn’t that make you tired! Apologize!” laughed Raquel. “Custer, fussin’ even Lois! Don’t you do anything of the kind or I shan’t ever speak to you again, or take you home to Los Ranchos with me.”

Lois looked at Raquel with her heart in her eyes.

“You’re going to take me _home_ with you?”

“Why, of course, silly, for as long as you can stand us rough old cow ranchers. And I’m goin’ to ask Anne out, too.”

“Your little friend grows surprisingly beautiful,” approved Don Nestor, taking his sun bath with the birds in the patio. “She was a washed-out little thing for the first week or so. But now she is like the lovely golden-haired ladies of Castile.” As indeed she was, in a gown from the inexhaustible treasure chests.

Lois’ magnetic charm began to reassert itself with returning health and spirits. She was shortly ordering everybody around with her broken Spanish and her pretty ways, and every one rushed about desperately to please La Loisa. The fat Piedad was at her feet, Concha lolled at her elbow, and old Moso was throwing sheep’s eyes all the time.

Even Raquel found it hard not to do what Lois wanted, and was constantly contriving to do things to please her. And Lois herself was full of services these days. The house bloomed with flowers of her plucking, and she managed to amuse Don Nestor greatly with her pantomiming.

With Raquel she was eager, striving. An impression had been made upon her which she was never to forget. She hardened herself to long rides over the hills; she learned to saddle and unsaddle her own horse.

“But I can’t _lift_ a saddle, Raquel.” Lois had been horror-struck at the idea yet, nevertheless, she soon was proud of her skill, and called every one out for an exhibition.

She learned to find water when she was thirsty, if there was any about; to make flap jacks, coffee, even tortillas. The fragile chest, the slender shoulders, began to fill out. Raquel took her into the hills, and made her lie down in the sun till her delicate skin was red. The slight cough, the fatigue which Lois had always felt, soon began to disappear.

“Do you know,” she said, “I haven’t had an ache in my back or chest in weeks now. I just noticed yesterday that it never hurts any more.”

“Why, did you always have pain, Lois?” Raquel asked.

“Most of the time, especially in winter; and all the time after Daddy died.”

One day they had ridden far; they were warm and flushed. Raquel found a shower bath in the hills, a natural warm and cold shower. A mountain stream had divided in its course, one streamlet flowing over hot rocks, the other in the deep shade of the canyon. Both streams tumbled in a pretty waterfall over into the same pool. Here the two girls splashed and played, moiling up the crystal pool, and drying themselves in the sun.

“It is the most fun I ever had in my life, Raquel. How I shall miss it!” Lois sighed.

But it was their last frolic at El Escondido.

When they returned to the hacienda at sundown, Georgie rushed out to greet them with the news that Concha’s _novio_ was back. He had left the army. The railroad had begun to operate that day, and the way was clear to return home!

Raquel hurried in for a conference with Don Nestor. One of the _vaqueros_ was despatched to Nacozari with a letter to Mrs. Daniels, and a telegram to be sent, if the wires were up once more.

The _vaquero_ who had first brought news from Georgie had proved an able cowboy and a faithful retainer, so Don Nestor suggested that he be put in charge of an outfit of men and a thousand head of cattle, to start at once on the long overland drive to the border.

“It’s a long way,” said Don Nestor, “but they will get there some time, and if the railroad will ship more for us--we shall see. Ah, Raquela! So my little mayordomo is leaving me! I shall be lonely till you will come again.”

“But I shall come back surely some time, Don Nestor,” Raquel promised, “indeed I shall--when the war is over, and--and Dad and the boys come back.”

“My house is yours,” Don Nestor bowed low as he repeated the old Castilian saying, “always. And all I have I leave to you when I am no more. When you go I should like you to take with you the chest of jewels and gowns. But the lands are to return to the people, to whom they belong by right.” And Raquel knew that he meant it.

On a fair morning when the land seemed to swoon of its own loveliness, and the perfume of clematis and honeysuckle penetrated even to the high balcony of Raquel’s room, she woke with the realization that this was to be her last awakening at El Escondido.

“Lois,” she called across the _corredor_, “Lois, are you up? Oh, I hate to go! That is, I would hate to if it weren’t for Mom. I must be shameless, lazing away my time here in Mexico for two months.”