ck beard, who was digging
near by. This man, whose eyes had been upon him, waiting for
recognition, immediately stopped his toil, struck his spade into the
ground, and came towards him, bowing as he came.

"Good evening, senor caballero," he said. "I am Fray Juan de la Cruz,
at your service; from the convent of N. S. de la Pena near by. I have
to be my own grave-digger; but will you be so obliging as to commit the
body while I read the office?"

To this abrupt invitation Manvers could only reply by staring. Fray
Juan apologised.

"I imagined that you had perceived my business," he said, "which truly
is none of yours. It will be an act of charity on your part--therefore
its own reward."

"May I ask you," said Manvers, now on his feet, "what, or whom, you are
burying?"

"Come," the friar replied. "I will show you the body." Manvers
followed him into the thicket.

"Good God, what's this?" The staring light eyes of Esteban Vincaz had
no reply for him. He had to turn away, sick at the sight.

Fray Juan de la Cruz told him what he knew. A young girl, riding an
ass, had come to the church of the convent, where he happened to be,
cleaning the sanctuary. The Reverend Prior was absent, the brothers
were afield. She was in haste, she said, and the matter would not
allow of delay. She reported that she had killed a man in the wood of
La Huerca, to save the life of a gentleman who had been kind to her,
who had, indeed, but recently imperilled his own for hers. "If you
doubt me," she had said, "go to the forest, to such and such a part.
There you will find the gentleman asleep. He has a crucifix of mine.
The dead man lies not far away, with his own knife near him, with which
I killed him. Now," she had said, "I trust you to report all I have
said to that gentleman, for I must be off."

"Good God!" said Manvers again.

"God indeed is the only good," said Fray Juan, "and His ways past
finding out. But I have no reason to doubt this girl's story. She
told me, moreover, the name of the man--or his names, as you may say."

"Had he more than one then?" Manvers asked him, but without interest.
The dead was nothing to him, but the deed was much. This wild girl,
who had been sleek and kissing but a few hours before, now stood robed
in tragic weeds, fell purpose in her green eyes! And her child's
mouth--stretched to murder! And her youth--hardy enough to stab!

"The unfortunate young man," said Fray Juan, "wa