“On your ship?”
“No, my ship was to come later. I was to bring cargo that belonged to him. I was also to bring his sister.”
“Aunt Elena?”
“It was she. We carried five other passengers on that voyage. An old man, a Spanish lad several years less than twenty, three women, and a sick boy.” “Then you know Aunt Elena?”
“Only slightly. She kept to her cabin much of the time, as did the woman who was caring for the sick boy. Occasionally when the weather was fair she would come on deck, and sometimes she helped the woman care for the sick boy. If he was really sick.”
“You do not think he was?”
“I’ve no idea, although he seemed active enough when on deck, and quick enough when he needed to be. You see, one night the other Spanish lad tried to stab him. At least, that was what my mate thought, and the helmsman, too. The sick boy was alone by the rail, and it all happened very fast. According to the mate, the Spanish lad suddenly drew a knife and tried to stab the boy, but the boy turned so suddenly the attempt failed, and the boy twisted the Spanish lad’s wrist and forced him to drop the knife. And he did it almost without effort. “The mate called for me, and when I came up they both refused to admit there had been trouble. Under the circumstances, there was nothing I could do but warn them.”
It seemed a story without point except that Aunt Elena’s voyage had not been without incident. “Some more chocolate? I shall have some.” “Please.”
I did not know what to say except to comment, “There must have been some quarrel between them.”
“Perhaps.” He accepted the cup from the Indian girl and waited until I had mine and then said, “The Spanish lad was Don Federico.” Was that it? Was he warning me? “The other boy, the sick one, simply dropped off the world. Perhaps he died. There was much sickness here for a while. When I asked about him, nobody knew anything, and the woman who cared for him had also disappeared. Later, I heard she married a vaquero.”
“There has been much moving about. Every day people have left for Monterey or San Jose, and of course for Yerba Buena. Half the people who have come here have gone on. Why, even among the first settlers, three families were sent back as useless to themselves or the town. Another, an Indian from Mexico, simply ran off. There are many such stories.”
“Of course.” Captain Laurel got to his feet. “You will eat with us? Meghan will be back soon, and I know she would enjoy seeing you.” “I’d be pleased.” I stared into the chocolate. What was he trying to tell me? That Don Federico was my enemy, and was dangerous? I could accept that. He had been among those who pursued my father into the desert. “It does not matter,” I said. “I want nothing from my grandfather.”
“Do not be hasty. What you may not want, others may need.”
Now, what did that mean?
“You have sailed in Chinese waters?” I asked. “I have heard of a system of self-defense known to the Chinese. I’d like to learn it.” He smiled. “It might take years. And you would have to decide what it was you wished to learn, for each country has its own system, almost every province in Japan or China, in fact, almost every city has its own system. Some vary but little, some very much indeed.
“Chi’in-na is one of the best, for if one attack fails, another is ready to follow. Tai-chi, kendo … you can choose what system you like. “However, if you are serious, I have just the teacher for you. He is the boatswain on the Queen Bess, my ship.”
“I heard of a Chinese who lives here. Lives over against the mountain somewhere.”
Laurel smiled. “I know him, but he will teach no one, and he is not a Chinese, although he comes from what is part of China. He comes from Khotan.” “Khotan?”
“It is far west, in Turkestan, against the Kunlun Mountains. It is on the way to India. Long ago it was a center of Buddhist culture.” “I remember, I think. I believe Marco Polo was there. It is on the old Silk Road that led from China to the Mediterranean.”
“The Silk Road branched at Khotan, to Syria, and over the mountains to India. It was a pilgrim’s road, also, for the Chinese Buddhists who went to India to learn.”
“I should like to know that man.”
“He will teach no one. He has found a place he loves, and he lives there. He lives alone, I believe.”
The evening had come, and shadows were falling. The Indian woman came in and lighted the lamps. Their light was uncommonly bright, and I commented on it. “It is an oil from petroleum. The Chinese have been using it for centuries.” He changed the subject, and we talked of ships and men, of the far sea and of strange foreign ports whose names were music. Some of them I remembered from my father; many were strange to me. Others I remembered from stories I’d read. A door opened at the far side of the room and Meghan came into the room.
Instantly I was on my feet. She was even more lovely than I had remembered.
She came to me, holding out both hands. “Johannes! It is so good to see you!” She was no longer a little girl, but a young lady, and if she had confused me before, I was even more confused now.
“You will have supper with us? Do you remember Kelda? She is coming over, I think, and Philo Burns as well.”
“And Rad Huber?”
“No, not Rad Huber. I am afraid he has found friends in other quarters. I have seen him on the street a few times.” She glanced at me. “He’s very big, you know. And very strong.”
The comment irritated me. I was pretty strong myself. Kelda O’Brien came in with Philo Burns. She still had a few freckles over her nose, with deep blue eyes and black hair. Philo had changed but little except to grow older. He was an erect, handsome young man, looking very polished and at ease. “I am the Los Angeles representative for the Adelsdorfer Company, and through them for the Hamburg-Bremen Company.”
I knew enough to know that Adelsdorfer was an importer and the Hamburg-Bremen Company insured ships’ cargoes.
“You’ve a good job, then,” I said.
“I like it, and there’s a future in it, I believe.” He glanced at me, smiling suddenly. “Have you seen old Fraser? He’s hardly changed, and he’s finally finished his book. He’s written some things that were published in London, and I believe in Germany, as well.”
Fraser had finished his book, Burns had an assured future, but what about me?
Where did I stand? What was I?
Thirty-eight
Excusing myself, I went out into the night. I led my horse to the zanja for water and then tied him at the corral with a bit of hay. For a few minutes then I stood beside the dapple, idly scratching under his mane. The night was cool, the stars very bright.
Don Federico? I could scarcely place the man, although I had seen him about town and no doubt he knew me. It was hard to think of a man whom I did not know as an enemy.
Captain Laurel’s story of the sudden treacherous attack on the other boy had been intended as a warning. Obviously he wished to place me on guard against such a surprise attack.
The idea of inheriting from my grandfather had never occurred to me, nor was it likely. A man who hated so much would take no chances on such an inheritance falling to one he hated.
How much of what had happened had been due to Don Isidro, and how much to Don Federico? When I was abandoned in the desert, he had accompanied my grandfather. He had been younger than my father and was still a relatively young man, and strikingly handsome.
A door closed, and turning, I saw Meghan on the step. When I started toward her, she came to meet me.
“You were gone so long, I was beginning to wonder what had happened.” “I watered my horse and then got to wondering. It’s not easy to believe a man I do not know might wish to kill me.”
“I know. My father has been worried that you might be attacked without warning. He is concerned about you.” She paused, then added, “You see, your other grandfather, the one who was a ship’s captain, taught my father navigation, helped him to his first command. There was a strong bond between them. He feels almost as if you were one of the family.”