ghed and found wanting.
And as the human mind expands, the incoming light must drive out the
black beliefs and deeds of Holy Church, else the oncoming centuries
will have no place for it."

"I believe you!" ejaculated Don Jorge. "But why do you still remain a
priest? _Hombre_! I knew when I saw you on the river boat that you
were none. But," his voice dropping to a whisper, "there is a soldier
in the road below. It would be well to leave. He might think we were
here to plot."

When the soldier had passed, they quietly left the gloomy cemetery and
made their way quickly back through the straggling moonlight to
Rosendo's house. Dona Maria, with characteristic quietude, was
preparing for the duties of the approaching day. Carmen lay asleep.
Jose went to her bedside and bent over her, wondering. What were the
events of the past few days in her sight? How did she interpret them?
Was her faith still unshaken? What did Lazaro's death and the
execution of Don Mario mean to her? Did she, as he had done, look upon
them as real events in a real world, created and governed by a good
God? Or did she still hold such things to be the unreal phenomena of
the human mentality?--unreal, because opposed to God, and without the
infinite principle. As for himself, how had the current of his life
been diverted by this rare child! What had she not sought to teach him
by her simple faith, her unshaken trust in the immanence of good!
True, as a pure reflection of good she had seemed to be the means of
stirring up tremendous evil. But had he not seen the evil eventually
consume itself, leaving her unscathed? And yet, would this continue?
He himself had always conceded to the forces of evil as great power as
to those of good--nay, even greater. And even now as he stood looking
at her, wrapped in peaceful slumber, his strained sight caught no
gleam of hope, no light flashing through the heavy clouds of
misfortune that lowered above her. He turned away with an anxious
sigh.

"Padre," said the gentle Dona Maria, "the two _Americanos_--"

"Ah, yes," interrupted Jose, suddenly remembering that he had sent
word to them to use his house while they remained in the town. "They
had escaped my thought. _Bien_, they are--?"

"They brought their baggage to your house an hour ago and set up their
beds in your living room. They will be asleep by now."

"Good," he replied, a wistful sense of gratitude stealing over him at
the reassuring thought of their p