The appointed time saw all assembled near the feast tables which had been made ready by the peons. Heaping dishes of berries were conspicuous among a variety and abundance of viands. Colonel Barcelo, commander of the presidio at Monterey, with his wife and her younger sister, the Señora Valentino, rode up on horseback. The Colonel and his wife were well known to the picnickers. His sister-in-law had but lately arrived from Madrid. The newcomers were accorded a gracious reception. "Happened to be visiting near San José. Hearing of the merienda, we came along without an invitation," said Barcelo, laughing. "Besides, I wished Señora Valentino to witness one of our festal days. It is unique. Madrid itself holds nothing to equal it." The brown eyes of the lady from Madrid flashed in accompaniment to her pearly teeth. "Rare things have I seen in California in the fortnight I am here." "In a moment luncheon is served. My worthy Barcelo, I invite you and your party to our table. My daughter and a few others sit with us. Come, friends," spoke Señor Mendoza, true to the unbounded hospitality of the California grandee. A peon sounded a gong. The hungry merienda folk lost little time in coming to the meal. Señor Mendoza was at the head of his table, Doña Carmelita at the foot. At the host's right and left were seated Colonel Barcelo and his wife; Señora Valentino, by his sister. The ladies of honor, with Hernandez, who sat by his daughter, filled the other places, except one. This had been reserved for Morando, who now came up. "An accident to one of the horsemen detained me for the past half hour," was his explanation to Señor Mendoza. "A caballero's misfortune always calls for assistance from a brother," replied Mendoza. Continuing: "Captain Morando, I wish to introduce you to Señora Valentino, who favors us to-day by her presence with her relatives, the Barcelos. Señora Valentino, may I present Captain Moranda?" The señora acknowledged pleasantly the Captain's low bow. "Captain, to your chair," from Mendoza. Conversation lulled for a little. Early hours and open air had given zest to the appetite. "My dear Señora Valentino, I wish you could have seen our carreta race this morning," remarked Señor Mendoza. "But it will not be the last." "While I say nothing against the race of this morning as such," interposed Hernandez, "for it was good enough as far as it went, I do claim that my horses were better than yours, Mendoza. Your peon rider happened to be more at home in his business than was mine, nothing more. I wish I had been in that postilion's place myself; then there would have been a different story to tell." "A horse can display but the swiftness his limbs possess," rebutted Mendoza. "Riding is not what I knew in my youth," commented Hernandez, who was giving ample appreciation to the pleasures of the table.