secret, as the hunchback implored, in
accordance with Antonio's wish; had dispatched her message by Ned and
Luis; and, unknown to them, had rapidly ridden away in company with
the white horse and her treacherous guide--to comfort the dying.

That death should have come again to the cabin on the mesa, whither
she was led, seemed natural enough to her; remembering with such keen
sorrow the passing of old Pedro.

And for once Antonio Bernal had told the truth. Lying helpless, almost
motionless, on the narrow bed in the shepherd's home, he greeted his
visitor with a pitiful smile on his white face, and a tone from which
the last vestige of his old bravado had departed: "The Captain! si.
You did well to come, my Lady Jess. But you are not afraid?"

"Why should I be afraid, Antonio? You are ill, I see that. What's
wrong? What can I do to help you?"

"Nothing. There is nothing. I played my game and I lost. I--I saw you
last night at the window."

"And I saw you; I knew you; but I did not know why you were fixed like
that and had painted your poor horse all white."

"Ha! You saw that? You, when nobody--older--well, I lost."

"Are you hurt? What can have happened to you since then?"

"Shot. On the way here, fearing nothing, a passing horseman, unknown,
braver or quicker than the rest, thought he could rid the country of
its ghost. Ah, yes! it was merry--for a time. It is past."

Jessica was crying softly, unable to endure the sight of agony, even
his who had tried to injure her and hers. The sick man perceived this
and something of the affection he had once felt for his master's
child, before he had betrayed that master's trust, stirred him to
speak and thrilled him with compunction. He felt himself to be doomed;
he had already sent Ferd away again to summon a priest; and according
to his faith he meant to make his peace with the world; but these
preparations had been on his own account only. Now he began to feel
something for her also.

Suddenly she ceased crying and stood up to bend over him and beg that
she might be allowed to help him. "A drink of water--some coffee? You
were always so fond of coffee, Antonio, and I know where Pedro kept
all his things. So many, many times we drank it here together, he and
I. And you--how came you here, Antonio?"

"Where better or nearer could I be? Pedro, the most obliging, yes.
Just when I needed his house he left it. Si. Why, but I am better
still, is it not, I?"

Indeed h