Page 396 - ramona-text
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388                 RAMON A
       ties? And where, in what lonely, forever hidden spot, was
       the grave of Ramona?
         Now  at  last Felipe  felt sure that she was dead.  It was
       useless searching farther. Yet, after he reached home, his rest-
       less conjectures took one more turn, and he sat down and
       wrote  a  letter  to  every  priest  between San  Diego and
       Monterey, asking if there were on his books a record of the
       marriage of one Alessandro Assis and Ramona Ortegna.
         It was not impossible that there might be, after  all, an-
       other Alessandro Assis. The old Fathers, in baptizing their
       tens of thousands of Indian converts, were sore put to  it to
       make out names enough. There might have been another
       Assis besides old Pablo, and of Alessandros there were dozens
       everywhere.
         This last faint hope also failed. No record anywhere of an
       Alessandro Assis, except in Father Gaspara's book.
         As Felipe was riding out of San Pasquale, he had seen an
       Indian man and woman walking by the side of mules heavily
       laden. Two little children, two young or too feeble to walk,
       were so packed in among the bundles that their faces were
       the only part of them  in  sight. The woman was crying
       bitterly. "More of these exiles. God help the poor creatures!"
       thought Felipe; and he pulled out his purse, and gave the
       woman a piece of gold. She looked up in as great astonish-
       ment as  if the money had fallen from the skies. "Thanks!
       Thanks, Seiior!" she exclaimed; and the man coming up to
       Felipe said  also, "God reward you,  Sefior! That  is more
       money than  I had in the world! Does the Sefior know of any
       place where  I could get work?"
         Felipe longed to say, "Yes, come to my estate; there you
       shall have work!"  In the olden time he would have done
       it without  a second thought,  for both  the man and  the
       woman had good  faces,—were young and strong. But the
       pay-roll of the Moreno estate was even now too long for its
       dwindled fortunes. "No, my man,  I am sorry to say  I do
       not," he answered. "I live a long way from here. Where were
       you thinking of going?"
         "Somewhere  in San Jacinto,"  said the man. "They say
       the Americans have not come in there much yet.  1 have a
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