and carriage, he alone retained some of the importance—­albeit slightly theatrical and affected—­of the occasion.  Clarence in his first hurried glance had not observed his wife, and for a moment had felt relieved; but as Colonel Starbottle arose at that moment, and with a studiously chivalrous and courtly manner turned to his right, he saw that she was sitting at the further end of the balcony, and that a man whom he recognized as Captain Pinckney was standing beside her.  The blood quickly tightened around his heart, but left him cold and observant.

“It was seldom, indeed,” remarked Colonel Starbottle, placing his fat fingers in the frill of his shirt front, “that a movement like this was graced with the actual presence of a lofty, inspiring, yet delicate spirit—­a Boadicea—­indeed, he might say a Joan of Arc—­in the person of their charming hostess, Mrs. Brant.  Not only were they favored by her social and hospitable ministration, but by her active and enthusiastic cooperation in the glorious work they had in hand.  It was through her correspondence and earnest advocacy that they were to be favored to-night with the aid and counsel of one of the most distinguished and powerful men in the Southern district of California, Judge Beeswinger, of Los Angeles.  He had not the honor of that gentleman’s personal acquaintance; he believed he was not far wrong in saying that this was also the misfortune of every gentleman present; but the name itself was a tower of strength.  He would go further, and say that Mrs. Brant herself was personally unacquainted with him, but it was through the fervor, poetry, grace, and genius of her correspondence with that gentleman that they were to have the honor of his presence that very evening.  It was understood that advices had been received of his departure, and that he might be expected at Robles at any moment.”

“But what proof have we of Judge Beeswinger’s soundness?” said a lazy Southern voice at the conclusion of Colonel Starbottle’s periods.  “Nobody here seems to know him by sight:  is it not risky to admit a man to our meeting whom we are unable to identify?”

“I reckon nobody but a fool or some prying mudsill of a Yankee would trust his skin here,” returned another; “and if he did we’d know what to do with him.”

But Clarence’s attention was riveted on his wife, and the significant speech passed him as unheeded as had the colonel’s rhetoric.  She was looking very handsome and slightly flushed, with a proud light in her eyes that he had never seen before.  Absorbed in the discussion, she seemed to be paying little attention to Captain Pinckney as she rose suddenly to her feet.

“Judge Beeswinger will be attended here by Mr. MacNiel, of the Fair Plains Hotel, who will vouch for him and introduce him,” she said in a clear voice, which rang with an imperiousness that Clarence well remembered.  “The judge was to arrive by the coach from Martinez to Fair Plains, and is due now.”