Alvarado has done something for education, but not enough; he has not enforced it, and the methods are very primitive.  I intend to be virtually dictator.  With as little delay as possible I shall establish a newspaper,—­a powerful weapon in the hands of a ruler, as well as a factor of development.  Then I shall organize a superior court for the punishment of capital crimes.  Not that I do not recognize the right of a man to kill if his reasons satisfy himself, but there can be no subservience to authority in a country where murder is practically licensed.  American immigration will be more than encouraged, and it shall be distinctly understood by the Americans that I encourage it.  Everything, of course, will be done to promote good-will between the Californians and the new-comers.  Then, when the United States make up their mind to take possession of us, I shall waste no blood, but hand over a country worthy of capture.  In the meantime it will have been carefully drilled into the Californian mind that American occupation will be for their ultimate good, and that I shall go to Washington to protect their interests.  There will then be no foolish insurrections.  Do you care to hear more?”

Her face was flushed, her chest was rising rapidly.

“I hardly know what to think,—­how I feel.  You interest me so much as you talk that I wish you to succeed:  I picture your success.  And yet it maddens me to hear you talk of the Americans in that way,—­also to know that your house will be greater than ours,—­that we will be forgotten.  But—­yes, tell me all.  What will you do then?”

“I shall have California, in the first place, scratched for the gold that I believe lies somewhere within her.  When that great resource is located and developed I shall publish in every American newspaper the extraordinary agricultural advantages of the country.  In a word, my object is to make California a great State and its name synonymous with my own.  As I told you before, for fame as fame I care nothing; I do not care if I am forgotten on my death-bed; but with my blood biting my veins I must have action while living.  Shall I say that I have a worthier motive in wishing to aid in the development of civilization?  But why worthier?  Merely a higher form of selfishness.  The best and the worst of motives are prompted by the same instinct.”

“I would advise you,” she said, slowly, “never to marry.  Your wife would be very unhappy.”

“But no one has greater scorn than you for the man who spends his life with his lips at the chalice of the poppy.”

“True, I had forgotten them.”  She rose abruptly.  “Let us go back,” she said.  “It is better not to stay too long.”