"Yes, I am Jovita of the Tulucay, and I know you now; you are called
Crescimir the Illyrian, and I have been often to your cabin and sat
beneath the great laurel while you were in the fields or at your work. I
have often left flowers there at your door just for the pleasure of
imagining the surprise when you should find them, and I always took the
vegetables I found there, for I knew that they were for me. However, I
never saw your face before this morning. You see I am little like our
Californians, but my mother is from the States and believes in more
freedom; she could not be better or kinder though she were a real
Californian. If you are able we had better go up to the hacienda now,
and after breakfast we will look about to see if assistance is needed
along the river, for the flood was sudden and unlooked for."

Crescimir was not hurt and was able to walk slowly to the house. Jovita
walked by his side, leading her horse, while the Christchild sat quietly
in the saddle, nodding his head and winking like any sleepy child of
this mortal world.

Both Crescimir and Jovita were silent during the walk, but their eyes
often met, and Jovita would blush as she thought of her strange freak
with the flowers and finding that the receiver was by no means the old
man she had imagined him to be.

Crescimir was happy to think that he had not left his gifts
unappreciated and only regretted that he had not put whole pumpkins
there instead of onions.

"So you have no idea to whom the child belongs?" asked Jovita, as they
neared the house. "He is strangely dressed and the frock is of an