"Why not act, and act now? Public sentiment is in pliable condition. Who knows how long it will so continue? Do your part, Señor Soldier, in organizing a general desire that our province seek Great Britain's friendly arm. Spanish chivalry calls to you." "You speak strongly." "Not more strongly than the occasion demands. The welfare of this province, the faith of our fathers, the culture of centuries, are at stake. The United States of America is awake. That mighty nation has her agents among our people, persuading them, leading them, exhorting them. Señor Soldier, be up and doing." "Señora, come what may, I shall not fail this province." He touched the hilt of his sword. "The splendid womanhood of California will crown you their knight, my soldier." They arose and walked away. In the doorway they paused. "For Castile and this province!" she said. "By my sword and glove, señora!" She extended her hand. He met it in firm grasp. The call for supper had been made, but they had not heard. The company was around them. "Ah, Captain! Ah, señora! what have we here? a betrothal?" Carmelita Mendoza, with her father, was but a pace away. "Friends, friends, to the supper room!" called the host. The guests obeyed. CHAPTER XI AT THE SUPPER "My friends, nature prepares a generous harvest against the months of winter. Let us enjoy the good things at table in anticipation of our share of that harvest. Amigos, to our seats!" Thus spoke Mendoza to the company assembled in the dining hall. This room was a little smaller than the ballroom, and its finish was of polished oak combined with redwood. The tables ran nearly the length of the apartment. The products of Mendoza's gardens and hothouses had been levied on to furnish adornment. Cut roses tumbled in profusion from vases arranged along the middle of the tables, while potted palms cast shadows from chandeliers and wall-candles. Ivy shaped itself into an archway over the entrance, crept through the foliage of house shrubs lining the walls, and intertwined here and there into bowers of ease. Against the green vine, flowers, rivaling the rainbow in tints, sang in color notes the jubilation of California's spring. The people enjoyed the midnight supper. The cooling air of the courtyard, the dance, the animated conversation had whetted the appetites to an edge. Finding place not in any particular order, but in the company their preference sought, as was the way in these large gatherings, the girls, with their dueñas, and the gallants were mostly at one end of the room, leaving the graver portion of the assembly by itself. Señor Mendoza was at the head of a table. At its foot was his daughter. Near him was the wisdom of the valley, represented by the heads of families. Morando wished to seat himself at the señorita's right hand, but she had already motioned Abelardo Peralta to that place. On her left was Alfreda Castro.