we could catch
glimpses of the river, gray and angry like the sky, and all along its
banks the huddled dwellings of the poor barbarians, whose ideals of
architecture were no whit better than those of the wasp,--not near so
complex as those of the ant and the bee.

Suddenly, while we waited there forlorn, my thoughts flew back to an
English home, with its ivied walls, its turreted roof, its long facade
of warm red brick. I saw green slopes, broad terraces, a generous
portal, and a spacious hall; I thought of a room with an ample chimney
set round with painted tiles, and I pictured myself kneeling upon the
bearskin rug before a blazing fire, with my head upon my mother's knee
and her fingers toying with my hair. For that moment I forgot even my
dear love, and I would have given all the world just to be a little
child at home.

The padre turned to us at last and motioned us to follow him. He led us
to the rear of the chapel, where, plastered against the wall, was a
semicircular excrescence,--a tiny cell, with a narrow door hewn from a
single plank and fastened with a heavy padlock. Drawing forth a key from
his belt he unlocked this and bade us enter. We did so, and he closed
the door behind us.

Within, the hard earth floor was slightly raised and covered with mats
of woven palmetto-leaves. A narrow chink in the wall admitted a faint
ray of light, enabling us to perceive dimly the few objects which the
room contained. Apparently it was Padre Felipe's sleeping apartment and
the chapel vestry combined in one. There was a curtained doorway that
gave access to the chapel itself; pushing aside the hangings, we could
see the dim interior, empty except for the high altar set with tall
candles, and a carven crucifix upon the wall.

As I caught sight of these emblems of a Christian faith I bethought me
of the bloody sacrifices that had been offered to a pitiful God in the
name of orthodoxy, and I wondered whether heretics like us would not be
safer out in the wild woods and the driving storm--aye, even at the
mercy of infidel barbarians; but suddenly I remembered the solid silver
service which was to be the gift of Dona Orosia to this little new
mission, and I took courage.

The rain was now pouring in torrents from the thatched roof, and the
wind, which blew from the northeast, dashed it back against the mud
walls of our refuge. I turned to Barbara and gave voice to an anxiety
that for some time, had been growing within me.