This wing was said to be the oldest part of the mansion, a fact attested by the great thickness of the walls. Just above was the famous blue room occupied by the major, where ghosts were supposed at times to hold their revels. Yet, despite its clumsy construction, the East Wing was cheery and pleasant in all its rooms and sunlight flooded it the year round.
After the master and mistress had driven away to town with their guests, Inez sat for a time by the window, still motionless save for an occasional wicked glance over her shoulder at Mildred, who read placidly as she rocked to and fro in her chair. The presence of the American nurse seemed to oppress the girl, for not a semblance of friendship had yet developed between the two; so presently Inez rose and glided softly out into the court, leaving Mildred to watch the sleeping baby.
She took the path that led to the Mexican quarters and ten minutes later entered the hut where Bella, the skinny old hag who was the wife to Miguel Zaloa, was busy with her work.
“Ah, Inez. But where ees Mees Jane?” was the eager inquiry.
Inez glanced around to find several moustached faces in the doorway. Every dark, earnest eye repeated the old woman’s question. The girl shrugged her shoulders.
“She is care for by the new nurse, Meeldred. I left her sleeping.”
“Who sleeps, Inez?” demanded the aged Miguel. “Ees it the new nurse, or Mees Jane?”
“Both, perhap.” She laughed scornfully and went out to the shed that connected two of the adobe dwellings and served as a shady lounging place. Here a group quickly formed around her, including those who followed from the hut.
“I shall kill her, some day,” declared the girl, showing her gleaming teeth. “What right have she to come an’ take our baby?”
Miguel stroked his white moustache reflectively.
“Ees this Meeldred good to Mees Jane?” he asked.
“When anyone looks, yes,” replied Inez reluctantly. “She fool even baby, some time, who laugh at her. But poor baby do not know. I know. This Meeldred ees a devil!” she hissed.
The listening group displayed no emotion at this avowal. They eyed the girl attentively, as if expecting to hear more. But Inez, having vented her spite, now sulked.
“Where she came from?” asked Miguel, the recognized spokesman.
“Back there. New York,” tossing her head in an easterly direction.
“Why she come?” continued the old man.
“The little mans with no hair – Meest Merrick – he think I not know about babies. He think this girl who learns babies in school, an’ from books, know more than me who has care for many baby – but for none like our Mees Jane. Mees Jane ees angel!”
They all nodded in unison, approving her assertion.
“Eet ees not bad thought, that,” remarked old Bella. “Books an’ schools ees good to teach wisdom.”
“Pah! Not for babies,” objected her husband, shaking his head. “Book an’ school can not grow orange, either. To do a thing many time ees to know it better than a book can know.”
“Besides,” said Inez, “this Meeldred ees witch-woman.”
“Yes?”
“I know it. She come from New York. But yesterday she say to me: ‘Let us wheel leetle Jane to the live oak at Burney’s.’ How can she know there is live oak at Burney’s? Then, the first day she come, she say: ‘Take baby’s milk into vault under your room an’ put on stone shelf to keep cool.’ I, who live here, do not know of such a vault. She show me some stone steps in one corner, an’ she push against stone wall. Then wall open like door, an’ I find vault. But how she know it, unless she is witch-woman?”
There was a murmur of astonishment. Old Miguel scratched his head as if puzzled.
“I, too, know about thees vault,” said he; “but then, eet ees I know all of the old house, as no one else know. Once I live there with Señor Cristoval. But how can thees New York girl know?”
There was no answer. Merely puzzled looks.
“What name has she, Inez?” suddenly asked Miguel.
“Travers. Meeldred Travers.”
The old man thought deeply and then shook his head with a sigh.
“In seexty year there be no Travers near El Cajon,” he asserted. “I thought maybe she have been here before. But no. Even in old days there ees no Travers come here.”
“There ees a Travers Ranch over at the north,” asserted Bella.
“Eet ees a name; there be no Travers live there,” declared Miguel, still with that puzzled look upon his plump features.
Inez laughed at him.
“She is witch-woman, I tell you. I know it! Look in her eyes, an’ see.”
The group of Mexicans moved uneasily. Old Miguel deliberately rolled a cigarette and lighted it.
“Thees woman I have not yet see,” he announced, after due reflection. “But, if she ees witch-woman, eet ees bad for Mees Jane to be near her.”
“That is what I say!” cried Inez eagerly. She spoke better English than the others. “She will bewitch my baby; she will make it sickly, so it will die!” And she wrung her hands in piteous misery.
The Mexicans exchanged frightened looks. Old Bella alone seemed unaffected.
“Mees Weld own her baby – not us,” suggested Miguel’s wife. “If Mees Weld theenk thees girl is safe nurse, what have we to say – eh?”
“I say she shall not kill my baby!” cried Inez fiercely. “That is what I say, Bella. Before she do that, I kill thees Meeldred Travers.”
Miguel examined the girl’s face intently.
“You are fool, Inez,” he asserted. “It ees bad to keel anything – even thees New York witch-woman. Be compose an’ keep watch. Nothing harm Mees Jane if you watch. Where are your folks, girl?”
“Live in San Diego,” replied Inez, again sullen.
“Once I know your father. He ees good man, but drink too much. If you make quarrel about thees new nurse, you get sent home. Then you lose Mees Jane. So keep compose, an’ watch. If you see anything wrong, come to me an’ tell it. That ees best.”
Inez glanced around the group defiantly, but all nodded approval of old Miguel’s advice. She rose from the bench where she was seated, shrugged her shoulders disdainfully and walked away without a word.
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