s steps were like those
of one flying in fear; at such times the men heard him muttering and
whispering to himself, "Ramona! Ramona!" Mad with love from the first
to the last was Angus Phail; and there were many who believed that if he
had ever seen the hour when he called Ramona Gonzaga his own, his reason
would have fled forever at that moment, and he would have killed either
her or himself, as men thus mad have been known to do. But that hour
never came. When, eight months later, the "San Jose" sailed into the
Santa Barbara harbor, and Angus Phail leaped breathless on shore, the
second man he met, no friend of his, looking him maliciously in
the face, said. "So, ho! You're just too late for the wedding! Your
sweetheart, the handsome Gonzaga girl, was married here, yesterday, to a
fine young officer of the Monterey Presidio!"

Angus reeled, struck the man a blow full in the face, and fell on the
ground, foaming at the mouth. He was lifted and carried into a house,
and, speedily recovering, burst with the strength of a giant from the
hands of those who were holding him, sprang out of the door, and ran
bareheaded up the road toward the Presidio. At the gate he was stopped
by the guard, who knew him.

"Is it true?" gasped Angus.

"Yes, Senor," replied the man, who said afterward that his knees shook
under him with terror at the look on the Scotchman's face. He feared he
would strike him dead for his reply. But, instead, Angus burst into
a maudlin laugh, and, turning away, went staggering down the street,
singing and laughing.

The next that was known of him was in a low drinking-place, where he was
seen lying on the floor, dead drunk; and from that day he sank lower and
lower, till one of the commonest sights to be seen in Santa Barbara was
Angus Phail reeling about, tipsy, coarse, loud, profane, dangerous.

"See what the Senorita escaped!" said the thoughtless. "She was quite
right not to have married such a drunken wretch."

In the rare intervals when he was partially sober, he sold all he
possessed,--ship after ship sold for a song, and the proceeds squandered
in drinking or worse. He never had a sight of his lost bride. He did not
seek it; and she, terrified, took every precaution to avoid it, and soon
returned with her husband to Monterey.

Finally Angus disappeared, and after a time the news came up from Los
Angeles that he was there, had gone out to the San Gabriel Mission,
and was living with the Indians.