turn?

The padre, now unreservedly friendly, tells Maxime that Castro fears
to attack Fremont in the open field. He has sent Indian runners to
stir up the wild Klamath, Snake River, and Oregon Indians against
the Americans. This is serious. Should the explorers receive a
check there, they would retreat; then the guerillas would cut them
off easily.

Padre Francisco fears for the result. He tells Maxime that bands of
fierce vaqueros are riding the roads; they have already butchered
straggling foreigners. A general war of extermination may sweep
from Sonoma to San Diego.

Valois' weary eyes have roved from mountain to valley for many
days. Will he ever regain his liberty? A few morning walks with
the padre, and a stroll by the waters of Lagunitas, are his only
liberties.

The priest is busy daily with the instruction of little Dolores.
The child's sweet, dancing eyes belie her mournful name. Valois
has passed quiet Donna Juanita often in the garden walks. A light
bending of her head is her only answer to the young man's respectful
salutation. She, too, fears and distrusts all Americans.

The roses have faded from her cheeks too early. It is the hard
lot of the California lady. Though wealth of lands in broad leagues
dotted with thousands of cattle, horses, and sheep is hers, this
daughter of an old feudal house has dreamed away a lonely life. It
is devoid of all social pleasures since she became the first lady