The soldier looked wonderingly at her. "Your words, señora, while surprising me, explain many things." She went on: "When the British admiral opens in Monterey harbor his sealed advices, he will find a paper appointing as commander of the army and head of this province the man on whom the English consul, Captain Farquharson, and your humble servant have agreed as the right one for that office." She paused in her remarks, as if expecting him to speak. He did not. She went on: "We have already made our choice." She spoke dispassionately. "Now, who do you think it is?" "I can still form no idea, unless it be, indeed, Mendoza, or Carillo--or, possibly, one of the Picos." "It is none other than Capitan Alfredo Morando." He checked his horse. She swung her mount to meet him. Neither spoke for several moments. He bared his head. "Señora Valentino, words fail me to express my gratitude for your high opinion of me. I thank you most cordially and most humbly." They rode on in silence. At last they neared the Calderon hacienda house. "Before long we salute you as 'Your Excellency.'" "No, señora. As greatly as I prize the honor paid me by you and the other two I shall leave California forever, as soon as I can do so in fairness to my work." The Calderons were hastening out to meet them. The anxious friends surrounded the señora. Inquiring and welcoming, they bore her away. CHAPTER XIV O'DONNELL TAKES A HORSEBACK RIDE "Good pluck has that Indian lad of yours, Señor Mendoza. He faced the muzzles of the guns this morning without batting an eye." Mendoza and O'Donnell were in the Administrator's office. Mendoza's eye was alert, his eagle face keen. The poncho thrown carelessly over his shoulders, his mustachios and imperial made him look the Old World soldier leader. "My messenger evidently caught you before you broke camp." Mendoza spoke in English, as had the other. "By my faith! he burst into camp on that sorrel like a meteor. I had 'Adelante!' half out of my mouth when he spurred on us. A dozen pistols were aimed at him, and why my fellows didn't shoot I don't see, except that they were afraid of hitting the horse. A native more or less wouldn't count, but these scoundrels know rare horseflesh night or day. Perhaps they'd peeked through the bars of your corrals, señor, when the peon riflemen weren't looking." The frontiersman laughed. He lay back in his chair, crossing his legs, and waited for the other to speak. His beard and hair were free from the cords and were flowing over his breast and shoulders. The bearskin leggings seemed more shaggy than ever. "Those men will be your companions for a thousand miles?" "I can expect no other, Señor Mendoza. Besides, they serve me well." "Señor O'Donnell, you represent great interests in California." "On another occasion I showed you documents which assert that."