r the purpose of religious salvation.
Ignorant as he was of the ways of the world, and inexperienced in the
usages of society, he began to plan methods of secretly meeting her with
all the intrigue of a gallant. The perspicacity as well as the intuition
of a true lover had descended upon him in this effort of mere spiritual
conquest.

Armed with his information and a few Spanish words, he took the
yellow Concepcion aside and gravely suborned her to carry a note to
be delivered secretly to Miss Ramirez. To his great relief and some
surprise the old woman grinned with intelligence, and her withered
hand closed with a certain familiar dexterity over the epistle and the
accompanying gratuity. To a man less naively one-ideaed it might
have awakened some suspicion; but to the more sanguine hopefulness of
Masterton it only suggested the fancy that Concepcion herself might
prove to be open to conversion, and that he should in due season attempt
HER salvation also. But that would be later. For Concepcion was always
with him and accessible; the girl was not.

The note, which had cost him some labor of composition, simple and
almost businesslike as was the result, ran as follows:

"I wish to see you upon some matter of grave concern to yourself. Will
you oblige me by coming again to the wall of the Mission tonight at
early candlelight? It would avert worldly suspicion if you brought also
your guitar."

The afternoon dragged slowly on; Concepcion returned; she had, with
great difficulty, managed to see the senorita, but not alone; she had,
however, slipped the note into her hand, not daring to wait for an
answer.

In his first hopefulness Masterton did not doubt what the answer
would be, but as evening approached he grew concerned as to the girl's
opportunities of coming, and regretted that he had not given her a
choice of time.

Before his evening meal was finished he began to fear for her
willingness, and doubt the potency of his note. He was accustomed
to exhort ORALLY--perhaps he ought to have waited for the chance of
SPEAKING to her directly without writing.

When the moon rose he was already in the garden. Lingering at first in
the shadow of an olive tree, he waited until the moonbeams fell on
the wall and its crests of foliage. But nothing moved among that ebony
tracery; his ear was strained for the familiar tinkle of the guitar--all
was silent. As the moon rose higher he at last boldly walked to the
wall, and list