The Valiant Runaways [31]
later on the corridor, still weak, but
magnificent to look upon. Roldan's head was very high, despite his
protesting knees: he felt himself again.
"It is the hour of siesta," he said. "Let us lie in these hammocks and
wait. Ay! but it is warm, and the sky is blue, and the sun looks like
the copper lamp of my mother--the one that came from Boston. Who--even
an Indian--would live in the mountains when the valleys are so big and
warm?"
They extended themselves in two hammocks swung across the corridor and
watched the many doors on the several sides of the court. All were
closed, and the forest had hardly been more quiet than the Casa Carillo
in its hour of siesta. Through the arch of the gateway they could see
the green of fields, a corner of a vineyard, and rolling hills. On
either side of the entrance was a large magnolia-tree with broad shining
leaves and bunches of cream-white fragrance. The oranges were very
yellow, the palms very stately, the red tiles on the sloping roofs above
the white walls looked very fresh and red. There was colour and beauty
everywhere; and the boys were quite at peace, and content to be so.
Their appetite for adventure was dulled for the moment.
XIV
A door on the opposite corridor opened and a youth came forth. He jerked
his head diffidently at the guests and took the longest way round
instead of crossing the court; but when he reached the boys, who were
risen and awaiting him, he wore a dignified air of welcome, as befitted
a young gentleman of his race.
"Welcome to Casa Carillo, senores," he said gravely. "The house is
yours. Burn it if you will. I, myself, Rafael Carillo, am your slave."
To which Roldan replied: "We are at your feet, for you and yours have
rescued us from death and given us food and clothing when we most needed
it. Our lives are yours to do with as you wish."
"Then would we keep you here always, Don Roldan and Don Adan. All guests
are welcome at Casa Carillo, but doubly those that need it."
Then, formalities over, as boys are pretty much alike the world round,
Rafael was soon pouring forth eager questions, and our heroes were
reliving the events of the past weeks. Arm in arm they strolled out into
the wide beautiful valley, green with sprouting winter, the distant
mountains of terrible memory quivering under a dark blue mist.
"Hist!" said Rafael, suddenly. "Do you know what day this is?"
"Day?" The adventurers had lost all count of time.
"It is the day before Christmas, my friends."
"No! Madre de dios!" Roldan and Adan stood still. For a moment they felt
homesick. They saw the reproachful faces of their parents and brothers
and sisters, to say nothing of visions of unclaimed presents. But Rafael
gave them no time for regrets. He was the only child at home, and
delighted with his new companions.
"To-morrow many people will come," he said. "I have ten married sisters
and brothers. They all come from their ranchos, and many more. It will
be very gay, my friends."
"Good," said Roldan, dismissing regret. "We will enjoy."
"And after Christmas is gone I know of something else," said Rafael,
mysteriously. He glanced about. They stood in the midst of a great
vineyard, each engaged upon a large purple bunch. "Come," said Rafael,
with an air of mystery. "Not here. Some one may hide beneath the vines."
It was extremely unlikely, but the adventurers liked the suggestion and
followed their host breathlessly into the open field. "One day in the
summer," whispered Rafael, his eyes rolling about, "I went with four
vaqueros with a present of venison to Father Osuna. He was not at the
Mission, and a brother told us that he walked among the hills. I thought
I would go to meet him and receive his blessing. For a time I saw no
one, and I thought, 'Caramba! but the padre has long legs this hot
weather!' Just then he stood before me. He had walked out of the side of
the hill through a hole no wider than himself. He sweated like a bull
after coliar, and his cassock was gathered in his two hands, leaving
magnificent to look upon. Roldan's head was very high, despite his
protesting knees: he felt himself again.
"It is the hour of siesta," he said. "Let us lie in these hammocks and
wait. Ay! but it is warm, and the sky is blue, and the sun looks like
the copper lamp of my mother--the one that came from Boston. Who--even
an Indian--would live in the mountains when the valleys are so big and
warm?"
They extended themselves in two hammocks swung across the corridor and
watched the many doors on the several sides of the court. All were
closed, and the forest had hardly been more quiet than the Casa Carillo
in its hour of siesta. Through the arch of the gateway they could see
the green of fields, a corner of a vineyard, and rolling hills. On
either side of the entrance was a large magnolia-tree with broad shining
leaves and bunches of cream-white fragrance. The oranges were very
yellow, the palms very stately, the red tiles on the sloping roofs above
the white walls looked very fresh and red. There was colour and beauty
everywhere; and the boys were quite at peace, and content to be so.
Their appetite for adventure was dulled for the moment.
XIV
A door on the opposite corridor opened and a youth came forth. He jerked
his head diffidently at the guests and took the longest way round
instead of crossing the court; but when he reached the boys, who were
risen and awaiting him, he wore a dignified air of welcome, as befitted
a young gentleman of his race.
"Welcome to Casa Carillo, senores," he said gravely. "The house is
yours. Burn it if you will. I, myself, Rafael Carillo, am your slave."
To which Roldan replied: "We are at your feet, for you and yours have
rescued us from death and given us food and clothing when we most needed
it. Our lives are yours to do with as you wish."
"Then would we keep you here always, Don Roldan and Don Adan. All guests
are welcome at Casa Carillo, but doubly those that need it."
Then, formalities over, as boys are pretty much alike the world round,
Rafael was soon pouring forth eager questions, and our heroes were
reliving the events of the past weeks. Arm in arm they strolled out into
the wide beautiful valley, green with sprouting winter, the distant
mountains of terrible memory quivering under a dark blue mist.
"Hist!" said Rafael, suddenly. "Do you know what day this is?"
"Day?" The adventurers had lost all count of time.
"It is the day before Christmas, my friends."
"No! Madre de dios!" Roldan and Adan stood still. For a moment they felt
homesick. They saw the reproachful faces of their parents and brothers
and sisters, to say nothing of visions of unclaimed presents. But Rafael
gave them no time for regrets. He was the only child at home, and
delighted with his new companions.
"To-morrow many people will come," he said. "I have ten married sisters
and brothers. They all come from their ranchos, and many more. It will
be very gay, my friends."
"Good," said Roldan, dismissing regret. "We will enjoy."
"And after Christmas is gone I know of something else," said Rafael,
mysteriously. He glanced about. They stood in the midst of a great
vineyard, each engaged upon a large purple bunch. "Come," said Rafael,
with an air of mystery. "Not here. Some one may hide beneath the vines."
It was extremely unlikely, but the adventurers liked the suggestion and
followed their host breathlessly into the open field. "One day in the
summer," whispered Rafael, his eyes rolling about, "I went with four
vaqueros with a present of venison to Father Osuna. He was not at the
Mission, and a brother told us that he walked among the hills. I thought
I would go to meet him and receive his blessing. For a time I saw no
one, and I thought, 'Caramba! but the padre has long legs this hot
weather!' Just then he stood before me. He had walked out of the side of
the hill through a hole no wider than himself. He sweated like a bull
after coliar, and his cassock was gathered in his two hands, leaving