RAMONA

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 457, 12 September 1928, Page 5

RAMONA

A GREAT LOVE STORY BY HELEN HUNT JACKSON *• (Serialised by FINIS FOX, author 44- of the screen-plays “RESUR- 4" I RECTION” and “RAMONA”) \

Ramona, thrilled with the romantic’ joy of the moment, and reading in Alessandro’s eyes his love for her, replied: “And I have seen you, Alessandro, when you did not know —in my dreams. The days drifted into weeks; Felipe recovered fully from ljis illness; Father Salviederra went on his way;and Fate forged a new link in the chain of Ramona’s life. It was night in the old hacienda. The stars peeped out above, twinkling in their firmament. The moon cast a warm, exotic glow- over the patio. Down the steps came Ramcna, wearing in her hair one of Alessandro’s mountain flowers, and over her head and shoulders a black mantilla. Cautiously, furtively she looked about, then glided through the patio. Just as she thought no one would see her, she looked up, suddenly startled as Felipe confronted her. Gaily he greeted her, without suspicion, but a little surprised. She tried to hide her nervous embarrassment by assuming a gay, saucy spirit, for she was going to meet Alessandro clandestinely at the willows.

Felipe walked over to the patio gate with her and gallantly insisted on going with her. His insistence greatly embarrassed her, for she did not want to lie to him, nor did she want to tell him she was going to meet Alessandio. As Ramona started through the gate, Felipe caught her by the hand.' "While I was ill,” he said, “many thoughts came to me, Ramona. I recalled all the happy moments of our childhood, the joys and troubles we have shared together.” “You have always been like a good brother to me, Felipe,” said Ramona, sincerely. “But we have outgrown those days, Ramona,” replied Felipe with ardour. “You are a woman now, a beautiful, wonderful woman, and I . . .” “No, no, Felipe,” quickly Ramoua interrupted. "We will always be just children ... to each other.” Nervously Ramona Indicated ;he must go. Felipe again offered to gr

with her, but, before he could realise it, she impishly pushed him back and darted through the patio gate. He stood her with a tinge of jealousy, now realising she was going to meet Alessandro. Then he turned to his favourite rose, in full bloom, extended his hand and drew the rose toward him to whiff its fragrance. The petals fell to the ground, leaving him wondering what significance, what omen the fallen petals have for him and his love for Ramona.

“I am going back to my people, Senorita,” said Alessandro, his eyes moistened with tenderness and his voice aquiver as Ramona met him at the willows.

The tears welled up in Ramoua’s eyes in spite of herself, her lips trembled at the thought of Alessandro going away, her heart beat fast with her love for him ... a love she had never expressed, a love stronger than blood, stronger than death! Alessandro saw the tears in Ramona’s eyes. Suddenly the world changed for him. He gatWfered confidence, then in an ecstasy of joy, exclaimed: “Senorita, tears have come into your eyes. . . . Then you will not be angry when I say that I love you?”

“I know that you love me, Alessandro,” breathed Ramona, looking up at him and smiling through her tears, “and I am glad.” Gently he enfolded Ramona in his arms. She leaned her head ever so tenderly against his breast. “I love you, Alessandro ... I love you.”

The fierce passion of Alessandro’s soul expressed itself in his dark eyes, burning with love for her. His lips sought hers. Again and again he kissed her. Then, releasing her, and quite beside himself with passionate joy, he breathed. “Senorita, do you mean that you are mine . . . you will marry me?” “Yes, Alessandro.”

At this romantic moment a voice, harsh, indignant and full of terror, broke their reverie. They turned and looked upon the , old senora as she stood gazing at them, her eyes grim and terrible.

Ramona and Alessandro, startled, stricken dumb, stepped apart. “Do not dare to speak!” exclaimed the Senora, as Ramona recovered from her surprise and started to address the senora in a placating tone. “As for you,” said the senora as she turned to Alessandro,* “You are discharged from my service! Out of my sight!” Alessandro and Ramona stared back at her, speechless. "Out of my sight!” “Go, Alessandro,” said Ramona, calmly, still looking the senora full in the eyes. Alessandro walked away with head erect. Ramona, wishing to propitiate the senora. started to explain matters, walked over closer to her, but the senora was in no mood for explanations. With a cruel blow she struck Ramona on the mouth, crying out;

“Silence! Speak not to me!” Then seizing Ramona by the arm, the senora pushed rather than dragged her toward the hacienda, looking at her as though she might kill her. Angrily the senora pushed Ramona through the door of her room. Ramona fell on the bed, sobbing her heart out. The senora stood looking at her with deadly hatred, beside herself with rage, then turned and went out of the door, slamming it violently after her Slowly Ramona got up from her bed and, still sobbing, threw herself ;;t the feet of the Virgin Mary, a crumpled, tragic figure, like a broken reed in a storm! At sunrise the senora threw open the windows of her bedroom and started to sing the morning hymn, counting her beads with devout fanaticism, the irony of singing a religious song after her cruelty to Ramona the evening before never once occurring to her. At the first sound of the senora’s voice, Ramona awakened. All night she had lain on the floor at the feet of the Madonna, a blessed sanctuary-in her hour of travail. She was too listless, too unhappy to sing. She tried, but her voice could not find itself, the words of the hymn choked up in her throat. Down in the patio Alessandro, who had anxiously hovered all night near Ramona’s window, joined his voice in the hymn, his notes rising high above the others, in the hope that Ramom would hear him and know that he was still there, that he had not deserted her. As Ramona caught the first notes „f Alessandro’s rich baritone voice, she slov-ly rose and made her way to the window, thrilled at the thought that Alessandro had dared to remain after the senora had dismissed him. She

listened. Then her voice came back to her and a strange happiness came over her as she sang, and her song w-as t; let Alessandro know that she loved him and trusted him.

Felipe, softly singing tiff; strains /ff the hymn, came out on the verandah. Startled, he heard the voices of Alessr- ’ro and Ramona singing to each other, and he saw in their faces ic love that each bore for the other. Into his heart surged a jealous passion as the painful realisation swept over him. Then bravely he tried to sing, tried to drown out his jealousy, tried to master his disappointment. The words did not come easily, but his teats flowed fast, blinding him as he tried to sing. His heart grew weak and faint, but still he sang. “What have you to say for yourself?” snapped the senora in a scornful and insulting tone, as she lat;r came into Ramona’s room. “Senora, I have done nothing wrong,” said Ramona calmly. “Alessandro and I are going to be married. “Marry. Marry an Indian!” exclaimed the senora bitterly. “He would be a naked savage if we had not come here to civilise his people!” Ramona sprang to her feet r ;d, walking swiftly till she stood face to face with the senora, answered in a calm, sane voice; “Alessandro’s father is chief of his tribe . . . and he is very proud.” “Of what has he to be proud?” demanded the senora, her nostrils dilated with scorn. “His race was never meant for anything but servants!” Ramona strove hard to ignore the senora’s insulting remarks. She thrtw back her head proudly, her eyes gleamed with a determined purpose. “1 love him!” she said. “I promised to marry him, and I shall keep my word!” Ramona, flashed full into the Senora’s face a look of proud defiance, the first free moment her soul had ever known, her old terror of the Senora gone for ever. “You talk like a fool!” contemptuously sneered the Senora. “I shall have you shut up in a nunnery.” “You would not dare! Felipe would not permit it!” “Felipe will have none of you,” shouted the Senora in a shrill voice, "when he hears the truth.” “You are mistaken. Senora,” Ramona answered proudly, “Felipe is Alessandro’s friend . . . and mine!” “We will see! We will see! Follow

me, Senorita Ramona!” And throwing open the door, the Senora strode out, looking back over her shoulder and again commanding Ramona to follow her. I As they entered the Senora's bedroom, the Senora closed both windows and drew the curtains tight. Ramona tremulously watched her every movement. Her senses seemed to leave her. Everything in the room swam before her eyes. The Senora, with a malicious smile, threw open a door covered with a statue of St. Catherine, her every act calculated to prolong and intensify Ramona's fear. “I will now explain to you why you will not marry the Indian Alessandro,” said the Senora, possessed or a fiendish cruelty, as she drew forth an old musty paper from an iron chest, which she dragged out of the closet. Ramona's terror gave way to reassurance at the sound of Alessandro s name. She looked up at the Senora and, In a tone as defiant and almost as insolent as the Senora's own, exclaimed:— "Senora Moreno, I shall marry the Indian Alessandro!” The Senora paid no heed to Ramona's words, except to tell her not to interrupt her, as she lifted out. and placed on the table tray after tray of jew-els, beautiful, precious gems, from the four corners of the world, and made into rings, bracelets, necklaces and brooches. A valuable collection worth a king's ransom. Ramona watched the Sonora breathlessly but with no interest in the jewels. “This was written by my sister, the Senora Ortegna, who adopted you and gave you her name,” said the Senora with a grim, menacing 1 look, as she held the musty paper before Ramona's eyes. For some minutes she read sentence after sentence, while Ramona listened breathlessly. “You see now,” said the Senora sternly, as she finished reading the document, “that my sister left to me the disposal of everything belonging to you.” “But it has not said who was my mother?” breathlessly asked Ramona. The Senora looking stupified, unable to understand why Ramona cared nothing for all these jewels, then she sneeringly exclaimed: “Your mother was an Indian ... a low, common Indian!” A little low cry escaped Ramona's lips, her cheeks turned scarlet, her eyes flashed. She sprang to her feet and demanded: — (To be continued.)