It was quite visible now--a low-walled, quadrangular mass of whitewashed
adobe lying like a drift on the green hillside. The carriage and four
had far preceded him, and was already half up the winding road towards
the house. Later he saw them reach the courtyard and disappear within.
He would be quite in time to speak with her before she retired to change
her dress. He would simply say that while making a professional visit
to Los Gatos Land Company office he had become aware of Fletcher's
connection with it, and accidentally of his intended visit to Ramirez.
His chance meeting with the carriage on the highway had determined his
course.
As he rode into the courtyard he observed that it was also approached
by another road, evidently nearer Los Gatos, and probably the older
and shorter communication between the two ranchos. The fact was
significantly demonstrated a moment later. He had given his horse to a
servant, sent in his card to Clementina, and had dropped listlessly on
one of the benches of the gallery surrounding the patio, when a horseman
rode briskly into the opposite gateway, and dismounted with a familiar
air. A waiting peon who recognized him informed him that the Dona was
engaged with a visitor, but that they were both returning to the gallery
for chocolate in a moment. The stranger was the man he had left only an
hour before--Don Diego Fletcher!
In an instant the idiotic fatuity of his position struck him fully.
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