Most certainly Ramona would never
have been married under any but her own name. Who, then, was
this woman whom Alessandro Assis had married in less than ten
days from the night on which Ramona had left her home? Some
Indian woman for whom he felt compassion, or to whom he was
bound by previous ties? And where, in what lonely, forever hidden
spot, was the grave of Ramona?
Now at last Felipe felt sure that she was dead. It was useless
searching farther. Yet, after he reached home, his restless
conjectures took one more turn, and he sat down and wrote a letter
to every priest between San Diego and Monterey, asking if there
were on his books a record of the marriage of one Alessandro
Assis and Ramona Ortegna.
It was not impossible that there might be, after all, another
Alessandro Assis, The old Fathers, in baptizing their tens of
thousands of Indian converts, were sore put to it to make out
names enough. There might have been another Assis besides old
Pablo, and of Alessandros there were dozens everywhere.
This last faint hope also failed.
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