the most part it was already known to him.

"Well," he said, when Leonard had finished, "I suppose that you must go.
The Senora Juanna is not a young lady to change her mind when once she
has made it up, and if you were to refuse to start, mark my words, she
would make the expedition by herself, or try to do so. As to this story
of treasure, and the possibility of winning it, I can only say that
it seems strange enough to be true, and that the undertaking is so
impracticable that it will probably be successfully accomplished."

"Hum!" said Leonard, "sounds a little paradoxical, but after that slave
camp business, like you I am inclined to believe in paradoxes. And now,
Father, what do you propose to do?"

"I? to accompany you, of course, if you will allow me. I am a priest and
will play the part of chaperon, if I can do nothing else," he added with
a smile.

Leonard whistled and asked, "Why on earth do you mix yourself up in such
a doubtful business? You have all your life before you; you are able,
and may make a career for yourself in religion; there is nothing for you
to gain by this journey; on the contrary, it may bring you death--or,"
he added with meaning, "sorrow which cannot be forgotten."

"My life and death are in the hand of God," the priest answered humbly.
"He appointed the beginning and He will appoint the end. As for that
sorrow which cannot be forgotten, what if it is already with me?" And he
touched his breast and looked up.

The eyes of the two men met, and they understood each other.

"Why don't you go away and try to forget her?" said Leonard.

The speech was blunt, but Francisco did not resent it.

"I do not go," he answered, "because it would be useless. So far as I am
concerned the mischief is done; for her there is none to fear. While I
stay it is possible that I may be able to do her some service, feeble as
I am. I have sinned a great sin, but she does not know, and will never
know it while I live, for you are a man of honour and will tell her
nothing, and she has no eyes to see. What am I to her? I am a priest--no
man. I am like a woman friend, and as such she is fond of me. No, I have
sinned against Heaven, against myself, and her, and you. Alas! who could
help it? She was like an angel in that Inferno, so kind, so sweet, so
lovely, and the heart is evil."

"Why do you say that you sinned against me, Francisco? As to the rules
of your Church, I have my own opinion of them. Still, th