"Yes, and of murderers too," said Alessandro. "Don't you call my
father murdered just as much as if they had shot him? I do! and, O
Senorita, my Senorita, there was Jose! You recollect Jose, who
went for my violin? But, my beloved one, I am killing you with
these terrible things! I will speak no more."
"No, no, Alessandro. Tell me all, all. You must have no grief I do
not share. Tell me about Jose," cried Ramona, breathlessly.
"Senorita, it will break your heart to hear. Jose was married a year
ago. He had the best house in Temecula, next to my father's. It was
the only other one that had a shingled roof. And he had a barn too,
and that splendid horse he rode, and oxen, and a flock of sheep. He
was at home when the sheriff came. A great many of the men were
away, grapepicking. That made it worse. But Jose was at home; for
his wife had a little baby only a few weeks old, and the child
seemed sickly and not like to live, and Jose would not leave it.
Jose was the first one that saw the sheriff riding into the village,
and the band of armed men behind him, and Jose knew what it
meant.
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