Day dawned. Jose still sat at the girl's
bedside, dumb and motionless. Carmen awoke, and threw her arms about
him. But Rosendo appeared and hurried her out to the light morning
repast, for they must lose no time in starting. Every moment now was
precious. By ten o'clock the savannas would be too hot to cross, and
they lay some distance from Simiti. Reed and Harris were bustling
about, assembling the packers and cracking jokes as they strapped the
chairs to the men's backs. Dona Maria's eyes were red with weeping,
but she kept silence. Jose wandered about like a wraith. Don Jorge
grimly packed his own kit and prepared to set out for the Magdalena,
for he had suddenly announced his determination not to accompany
Rosendo and his party, but to go back and consult with Don Carlos
Norosi in regard to the future. An hour later he left Simiti.

At last Rosendo's voice rang out in a great shout:

"_Ya esta! Vamonos!"_

"Bully-bueno!" responded Harris, waving his long arms.

The _cargadores_ moved forward in the direction of the Boque trail.
The Americans, with a final _adios_ to Dona Maria and the priest,
swung into line behind them. Rosendo again tenderly embraced his
weeping spouse, and then, turned to Jose.

"The Virgin watch over you and Maria, Padre! I leave her in your care.
If the war comes, flee with her to the Boque."

He threw an arm about the priest and kissed him on both cheeks. Then,
calling to Carmen, he turned and started after the others.

The girl rushed into Jose's arms. Her tears flowed freely.

"Padre," she murmured, clinging to him and showering him with kisses,
"I love you, love you, love you! I will wait for you up there. You
will come--or I will come back to you. And I will work for you every
day. I will know that you are God's child, and that you will solve
your problem!"

Rosendo, half way down the road, turned and called sharply to her. The
girl hurried after him. But again she stopped, turned around, and flew
back to Jose, as he knelt in the dust and, with tongue cleaving to his
mouth, held out his trembling arms.

"Padre, dearest, dearest Padre," she sobbed, "I love you, I love you!
And--I had forgotten--this--it is for you to read every day--every
day!" She thrust a folded paper into his hand. Again she tore herself
away and ran after the impatient Rosendo. In a moment they were out of
sight.

A groan of anguish escaped the stricken priest. He rose from his knees
and followed stumbling