ALESSANDRO'S first answer to this cry of Ramona's was a tightening of his arms around her; closer and closer he held her, till it was almost pain; she could hear the throbs of his heart, but he did not speak. Then, letting his arms fall, taking her hand in his, he laid it on his forehead reverently, and said, in a voice which was so husky and trembling she could barely understand his words: "My Senorita knows that my life is hers. She can ask me to go into the fire or into the sea, and neither the fire nor the sea would frighten me; they would but make me glad for her sake. But I cannot take my Senorita's life to throw it away. She is tender; she would die; she cannot lie on the earth for a bed, and have no food to eat. My Senorita does not know what she says."
His solemn tone; this third-person designation, as if he were speaking of her, not with her, almost as if he were thinking aloud to God rather than speaking to her, merely calmed and strengthened, did not deter Ramona. "I am strong; I can work too, Alessandro. You do not know. We can both work. I am not afraid to lie on the earth; and God will give us food," she said.
"That was what I thought, my Senorita, until now. When I rode away that morning, I had it in my thoughts, as you say, that if you were not afraid, I would not be; and that there would at least always be food, and I could make it that you should never suffer; but, Senorita, the saints are displeased. They do not pray for us any more. It is as my father said, they have forsaken us. These Americans will destroy us all. I do not know but they will presently begin to shoot us and poison us, to get us all out of the country, as they do the rabbits and the gophers; it would not be any worse than what they have done. Would not you rather be dead, Senorita, than be as I am to-day?"
Each word he spoke but intensified Ramona's determination to share his lot. "Alessandro," she interrupted, "there are many men among your people who have wives, are there not?"
"Yes, Senorita!" replied Alessandro, wonderingly.
"Have their wives left them and gone away, now that this trouble has come?"
"No, Senorita." still more wonderingly; "how could they?"
"They are going to stay with them, help them to earn money, try to make them happier, are they not?"
"Yes, Senorita." Alessandro began to see whither these questions tended. It was not unlike the Senora's tactics, the way in which Ramona narrowed in her lines of interrogation.
"Do the women of your people love their husbands very much?"
"Very much, Senorita." A pause. It was very dark now. Alessandro could not see the hot currents running swift and red over Ramona's face; even her neck changed color as she asked her last question.
"Do you think any one of them loves her husband more than I love you, Alessandro?"
Alessandro's arms were again around her, before the words were done. Were not such words enough to make a dead man live?
Almost; but not enough to make such a love as Alessandro's selfish. Alessandro was silent.
"You know there is not one!" said Ramona, impetuously.
"Oh, it is too much!" cried Alessandro, throwing his arms up wildly. Then, drawing her to him again, he said, the words pouring out breathless: "My Senorita, you take me to the door of heaven, but I dare not go in. I know it would kill you, Senorita, to live the life we must live. Let me go, dearest Senorita; let me go! It had been better if you had never seen me."
"Do you know what I was going to do, Alessandro, if you had not come?" said Ramona. "I was going to run away from the Senora's house, all alone, and walk all the way to Santa Barbara, to Father Salvierderra, and ask him to put me in the convent at San Juan Bautista; and that is what I will do now if you leave me!"
"Oh, no, no, Senorita, my Senorita, you will not do that! My beautiful Senorita in the convent! No, no!" cried Alessandro, greatly agitated.
"Yes, if you do not let me come with you, I shall do it. I shall set out to-morrow."
Her words carried conviction to Alessandro's soul. He knew she would do as she said. "Even that would not be so dreadful as to be hunted like a wild beast, Senorita; as you may be, if you come with me."
"When I thought you were dead, Alessandro, I did not think the convent would be dreadful at all. I thought it would be peace; and I could do good, teaching the children. But if I knew you were alive, I could never have peace; not for one minute have peace, Alessandro! I would rather die, than not be where you are. Oh, Alessandro, take me with you!"
Alessandro was conquered. "I will take you, my most beloved Senorita," he said gravely,-- no lover's gladness in his tone, and his voice was hollow; "I will take you. Perhaps the saints will have mercy on you, even if they have forsaken me and my people!"
"Your people are my people, dearest; and the saints never forsake any one who does not forsake them. You will be glad all our lives long, Alessandro," cried Ramona; and she laid her head on his breast in solemn silence for a moment, as if registering a vow.
Well might Felipe have said that he would hold himself fortunate if any woman ever loved him as Ramona loved Alessandro.
When she lifted her head, she said timidly, now that she was sure, "Then you will take your Ramona with you, Alessandro?"
"I will take you with me till I die; and may the Madonna guard you, my Ramona," replied Alessandro, clasping her to his breast, and bowing his head upon hers. But there were tears in his eyes, and they were not tears of joy; and in his heart he said, as in his rapturous delight when he first saw Ramona bending over the brook under the willows he had said aloud, "My God! what shall I do!"
It was not easy to decide on the best plan of procedure now.
