"_Padre_," he began, after some moments of deep reflection, "the little Carmen is not an ordinary child." "I have seen that, Rosendo," interposed Josè. "We--we do not understand her," Rosendo went on, carefully weighing his words; "and we sometimes think she is not--not altogether like us--that her coming was a miracle. But you do not believe in miracles," he added quizzically. "Why do you say that, Rosendo?" Josè returned in surprise. Rosendo paused before replying. "You were very sick, Padre; and in the fever you--" the impeccably honest fellow hesitated. "Yes, I thought so," said Josè with an air of weary resignation. "And what else did I say, Rosendo?" The faultless courtesy of the artless Rosendo, a courtesy so genuine that Josè knew it came right from the heart, made conversation on this topic a matter of extreme difficulty to him. "Do not be uneasy, Padre," he said reassuringly. "I alone heard you. Whenever you began to talk I would not let others listen; and I stayed with you every day and night. But--it is just because of what you said in the _calentura_ that I am speaking to you now of the little Carmen." Because of what he had said in his delirium! Josè's astonishment grew apace. "Padre, many bad priests have been sent to Simití. It has been our curse. Priests who stirred up revolution elsewhere, who committed murder, and ruined the lives of fair women, have been put upon us. And when in Badillo I learned that you had been sent to our parish, I was filled with fear. I--I lost a daughter, Padre--" The good man hesitated again. Then, as a look of stern resolution spread over his strong, dark face, he continued: "It was Padre Diego! We drove him out of Simití four years ago. But my daughter, my only child, went with him." The great frame shook with emotion, while he hurried on disconnectedly. "Padre, the priest Diego said that the little Carmen should become a Sister--a nun--that she must be sent to the convent in Mompox--that she belonged to the Church, and the Church would some day have her. But, by the Holy Virgin, the Church shall _not_ have her! And I myself will slay her before this altar rather than let such as Padre Diego lay their slimy paws upon the angel child!" Rosendo leaped to his feet and began to pace the floor with great strides. The marvelous frame of the man, in which beat a heart too big for the sordid passions of the flesh, trembled as he walked. Josè watched him in mute admiration, mingled with astonishment and a heightened sense of expectancy. Presently Rosendo returned and seated himself again beside the priest.