His funds
have increased. His old partner, Joe Woods, is now a man of wealth
at Sacramento. Maxime has no faith in quartz mines. He has no
desires to invest in ship, or factory. He ignores commerce. To be
a planter, a man of mark in the legislature, to revive the glories
of the Valois family, is the lawyer's wish. While he passes the
tule-fringed river-banks, fate is leading him back to Lagunitas. He
has led a lonely life, this brilliant young Creole. In the unrest
of his blood, under the teachings of Hardin, Valois feels the future
may bear him away to unfought fields. The grandsons of those who
fought at New Orleans, may win victories, as wonderful, over the
enemies of that South, even if these foes are brothers born.
Gliding towards his fate, the puppet of the high gods, Maxime Valois
may dream of the surrender of Fort Sumter, and of the Southern
Cross soaring high in victory. Appomattox is far hidden beyond
battle-clouds of fields yet to come! The long road thither has
not yet been drenched with the mingled blood of warring brethren.
Dreams! Idle dreams! Glory! Ambition! Southern rights!
At Stockton, Valois receives tidings from Padre Francisco. Clouds
are settling down on Lagunitas.
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