half-suppressed exclamation burst from the lips of Rosendo. A
desperate, suffocating joy surged over the riven soul of the priest.
Don Jorge's mouth opened, but no sound came forth. This precipitate
_denouement_ held them rigid with astonishment.

A heavy silence descended upon them all. In the eyes of Jose Ana's
tense figure, standing grim and rigid before the captain, took on a
dignity that was majestic, a worth that transcended all human
computation. A Magdalen, yes, standing with her sin-conceived child
clasped in her trembling arms. But this act--God above! this
sacrificial act broke the alabaster box and spread the precious nard
over the feet of the pitying Christ.

Morales turned questioningly to Jose. "Is this true, Padre?" he
asked.

"It is," murmured the dazed priest, scarce hearing his own words.

"But--I have no orders respecting a child--"

"They cannot be separated," half whispered Jose, not daring to meet
the vacant gaze of the babe.

The captain hesitated a moment longer. Then, with an upward glance at
the sun, he gave a sharp command to his men. Placing the woman between
them, the two soldiers faced about and moved quickly away. With a low
bow and a final "_Adios, Senores_," the captain hurriedly joined them.
Ere the little group before Rosendo's house had collected their wits,
the soldiers and their frail charge had mounted the hill beyond the
old church and disappeared into the matted trail that led from it to
the distant river.

Rosendo was the first to break the mesmeric silence. "_Dios arriba_!"
he cried. His knees gave way beneath him and he buried his face in his
hands. "Anita--!"

Then he rose hastily, and made as if to pursue the soldiers. Jose and
Don Jorge restrained him.

"_Hombre_!" cried Don Jorge, "but it is the hand of Providence! It is
better so! Listen, friend Rosendo, it but gives us time to act!
Perhaps many days! When the mistake is discovered they will return,
and they will bring her back unharmed--though they may not learn until
she reaches Cartagena! _Bien_, we can not waste time in mourning now!
Courage, man! Think--think hard!"

Rosendo strove to unravel his tangled wits. Jose went to him and
clasped his big hand.

"Rosendo--friend--would you have it different? I--I alone am to blame
that they took Anita! But--it was to save--to save--Ah, God! if I did
wrong, take the American's revolver and shoot me!" He tore open his
cassock and stood rigid before the dazed man