ination--you, and your cousin, and myself. I am
at heart no Catholic; I have seen the devil, if there be one, in my
confessor. I have heard him lie, and seen him take the widow's and the
orphan's portion. Mary, if there was a God, would he suffer such as
my Padre to minister in his holy place, and touch the consecrated
vessels? No, no; there is none, or he would be cut off from the face
of the earth."

"Inez! Inez! stop and hear me."

"No, no! time waits for none, and I have little more to say, Mary, you
are deceived; your cousin is not what you think. She is a Catholic;
for mine own eyes have seen her in the confessional, and mine own ears
have listened to her aves and paters."

Mary uttered a deep groan, and clasped Inez's arm, murmuring--"You
are--you must be delirious or mad: Florry deceive me! impossible!"

"Ah! poor deluded Mary: do you trust any on earth? Yet I would trust
you, with your white face and soft blue eyes; and there is one other
I would trust--but no more. You will not believe that Florence has
turned from the faith of her fathers? Go to her as she sleeps yonder,
and feel with your own hand the crucifix around her neck. Ha! you hold
tight to my arm: I tell you your Cousin Florence is as black-hearted
as the Padre, for he told me she had promised her dying father to
follow his advice in all things, yet she tells you not of this: and
again, has she not won the love of a good, a noble man, and does she
not scorn his love; else why is his cheek pale, and his proud step
slow? Marinita, I have read you long ago. You love your Doctor, but he
loves that Florence, whose heart is black and cold as this night You
are moaning in your agony; but all must suffer. I have suffered
more than you; I shall always suffer. My stream of bitterness is
inexhaustible; daily I am forced to quaff the black, burning waters.
Ha! I know my lot--I swallow and murmur not. Mary, I am sorry to make
you drink so much that is bitter to-night; but you must, for your own
good; better a friend should hold the cup and let you taste, than have
it rudely forced upon you."

"Why have you told me this, Inez? I never did you harm, or gave you
pain."

"Poor pale face! I want to save you from worse than death--yea, from
a living death. Go from this place; for if you are here a month hence,
you will be lost. Your people here will be defeated, and then the
Mexicans will hand you all over to the Padre, who says he means to put
you where you w