or man, are you not?" Alaire inquired.

"Miserably poor."

"Would you like to make a great deal of money?"

"Dios! That is why I'm a soldier."

"I will pay you well to get me two horses--"

But old Pancho shook his head vigorously. "Impossible! General Longorio
is going to marry you. We all got drunk last night to celebrate the
wedding. Yes, and the priest is waiting."

"I will make you rich."

"Ho! I wouldn't live to spend a single peso. Felipe disobeyed orders,
and the general shot him before he could cross himself. Boom! The poor
fellow was in hell in a minute. No. We will all be rich after we win a
few battles and capture some American cities. I am an old man; I shall
leave the drinking and the women to the young fellows, and prepare for
my old age."

Seeing that she could not enlist Pancho's aid, Alaire begged him to
fetch the priest.

"You wish spiritual comfort, senora?"

"Perhaps."

"Well, he doesn't look like much of a priest, but probably he will do.
As for me, I don't believe in such things. Churches are all very well
for ignorant people, but we Mexicans are too intelligent; we are making
an end of them."

The priest was a small, white-haired man with a gentle, almost timid
face, and at the moment when he appeared before Alaire he was in
anything but a happy frame of mind. He had undergone, he told her, a
terrible experience. His name was O'Malley. He had come from Monclova,
whence the Rebels had banished him under threat of death. He had seen
his church despoiled of its valuables, his school closed; he himself
had managed to escape only by a miracle. During his flight toward the
border he had suffered every indignity, and finally Longorio had
intercepted him and brought him here, practically in chains.

"What a situation! What chaos!" he lamented. "The land is overrun with
bandits; there is no law, no authority, no faith; religion is made a
mockery. The men are becoming infidels and atheists, and in many places
they will not allow us to give comfort even to their women."

"Is it as bad as that?"

Father O'Malley shook his head sadly. "You've no idea. What do you
think of a people who forbid the mention of God's name in their
schools? That is what the revolutionists are doing. Candeleria claims
that the churches are the property of the State. He confiscates them,
and he charges admission. He has banished all except a few of us
priests, and has shamefully persecuted our Sisters of Mercy. Oh