ll be
my child, my companion, my friend; all that my age can give you shall
be yours while I live, and it shall be your place one day to take up my
unfinished work when it falls from these palsied hands forever."

"You are mistaken," said the young man coldly. "I came to you for
human aid, and thank you for what you have granted me: I have not been
presumptuous enough to ask more, nor to believe myself a fitting subject
for conversion. I am weak, but not weak enough to take advantage of the
mistaken kindness of either the temporal Council of Todos Santos or its
spiritual head." He opened the door leading into the garden. "Forget and
forgive me, Father Esteban, and let me say farewell."

"Stop!" said the ecclesiastic, raising himself to his full height and
stepping before Hurlstone. "Then if you will not hear me in the name of
your Father who lives, in the name of your father who is dead I command
you to stay! I stand here to-day in the place of that man I never
knew--to hold back his son from madness and crime. Think of me as of him
whom you loved, and grant to an old man who might have had a son as old
as you the right of throwing a father's protecting arm around you."

There was a moment's silence.

"What do you want me to do?" said Hurlstone, suddenly lifting his now
moist and glistening eyes upon the old man.

"Give me your word of honor that for twenty-four hours you will remain
as you are--pledging yourself to nothing--only promising to commit no
act, take no step, without consulting me. You will not be sought here,
nor yet need you keep yourself a prisoner in these gloomy walls--except
that, by exposing yourself to the people now, you might be compromised
to some course that you are not ready to take."

"I promise," said Hurlstone.

He turned and held out both his hands; but Father Esteban anticipated
him with a paternal gesture of uplifted and opened arms, and for an
instant the young man's forehead was bowed on the priest's shoulder.

Father Esteban gently raised the young man's head.

"You will take a pasear in the garden until the Angelus rings, my son,
while the air is sweet and wholesome, and think this over. Remember that
you may accept the hospitality of the Council without sin of deception.
You were not in sympathy with either the captors of the Excelsior or
their defeated party; for you would have flown from both. You, of all
your party now in Todos Santos, are most in sympathy with us. You hav