"Perhaps I shall find me a man--big, strong, impressive--with a mind
easily led.... Then I shall train him to be a leader.... I shall furnish
the brain".
"I am going South," Francisco told his son. "I cannot bear this".
All at once he stepped forward.... Tears were streaming down his face.
Then the judge's question, clearly heard, "What is your plea?" "Guilty!"
Ruef returned.
A HISTORY-ROMANCE OF THE SAN FRANCISCO ARGONAUTS
PROLOGUE
THE VISION
"Blessed be the Saints. It is the Punta de Los Reyes." The speaker was a
bearded man of middle years. A certain nobleness about him like an
ermine garment of authority was purely of the spirit, for he was neither
of imposing height nor of commanding presence. His clothing hung about
him loosely and recent illness had drawn haggard lines upon his face.
But his eyes flashed like an eagle's, and the hand which pointed
northward, though it trembled, had the fine dramatic grace of one who
leads in its imperious gesture. He swept from his head the once
magnificent hat with its scarred velour and windtorn plume, bending one
knee in a movement of silent reverence and thanksgiving. This was Gaspar
de Portola, October 31,1769.
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