For, back of the density of the human concept, the fleeting, inexplicable medley of good and evil which constitutes the phenomenon of mortal existence, _he had seen God_! He had seen Him as all-inclusive mind, omnipotent, immanent, perfect, eternal. He had caught a moment's glimpse of the tremendous Presence which holds all wisdom, all knowledge, yet knows no evil. He had seen a blinding flash of that "something" toward which his life had strained and yearned. With it had come a dim perception of the falsity of the testimony of physical sense, and the human life that is reared upon it. And though he counted not himself to have apprehended as yet, he was struggling, even with thanksgiving, up out of his bondage, toward the gleam. The shafts of error hissed about him, and black doubt and chill despair still felled him with their awful blows. But he walked with Carmen. With his hand in hers, he knew he was journeying toward God. On the afternoon before his departure Rosendo entered the parish house in apprehension. "I have lost my _escapulario_, Padre!" he exclaimed. "The string caught in the brush, and the whole thing was torn from my neck. I--I don't like to go back without one," he added dubiously. "Ah, then you have nothing left but Christ," replied Josè with fine irony. "Well, it is of no consequence." "But, Padre, it had been blessed by the Bishop!" "Well, don't worry. Why, the Holy Father himself once blessed this republic of ours, and now it is about the most unfortunate country in the whole world! But you are a good Catholic, Rosendo, so you need not fear." Rosendo was, indeed, a good Catholic. He accepted the faith of his fathers without reserve. He had never known any other. Simple, superstitious, and great of heart, he held with rigid credulity to all that had been taught him in the name of religion. But until Josè's advent he had feared and hated priests. Nevertheless, his faith in signs and miracles and the healing power of blessed images was child-like. Once when he saw in the store of Don Mario a colored chromo of Venus and Cupid, a cheap print that had come with goods imported from abroad, he had devoutly crossed himself, believing it to be the Virgin Mary with the Christ-child. "But I will fix you up, Rosendo," said Josè, noting the man's genuine anxiety. "Have Doña Maria cut out a cloth heart and fasten it to a stout cord. I will take it to the church altar and bless it before the image of the Virgin. You told me once that the Virgin was the Rincón family's patron, you know." "_Bueno!_" ejaculated the pleased Rosendo, as he hastened off to execute the commission.