“Do you know where he went, from Temecula?”
“No, Señor.”
“A woman told me he went to Monterey. I have been there looking for him.”
“I heard, too, he had gone to Monterey.”
“Where did you see him last?”
“In Temecula.”
“Was he alone?”
“Yes, Señor.”
“Did you ever hear of his being married?”
“No, Señor.”
“Where are the greater part of the Temecula people now?”
“Like this, Señor,” with a bitter gesture, pointing to his wife. “Most of us are beggars. A few here, a few there. Some have gone to Capitan Grande, some way down into Lower California.”
Wearily Felipe continued his bootless questioning. No suspicion that the man was deceiving him crossed his mind. At last, with a sigh, he said, “I hoped to have found Alessandro by your means. I am greatly disappointed.
“I doubt not that, Señor Felipe Moreno,” thought Antonio. “I am sorry, Señor,” he said.
It smote his conscience when Felipe laid in his hand a generous gold-piece, and said, “Here is a bit of money for you. I am sorry to see you so poorly off.”
The thanks which he spoke sounded hesitating and gruff, so remorseful did he feel. Señor Felipe had always been kind to them. How well they had fared always in his house! It was a shame to lie to him; yet the first duty was to Alessandro. It could not be avoided. And thus a second time help drifted away from Ramona.
At Temecula, from Mrs. Hartsel, Felipe got the first true intelligence of Alessandro's movements;
