“I grasp your meaning, I am quite sure. Leave her to me; I will put her beyond the sight of mortal eye.” Mr. Martinez shook his hand warmly, and said: “There is one thing more, then we will drink the health of my royal-blooded friend, who, I hope, soon will be your friend also. The author of ‘Liquid from the Sun’s Rays’—that accursed fluid which they claim restores memory—and his would-be scientific associates, must be killed before morning. We are determined to have a revolution. We are determined to rend this part of the country, so long known as Mexico, from the rule of the United States of America. We are assured now of a following of ten thousand from each State that was at one time a part of Old Mexico, or the Republic of Mexico. You know the history, do you not, of that long-suffering, brave and downtrodden people? We wish to sever our relations from the people who united us to them without our consent.” “We certainly do,” said a voluptuous man who had been standing close by, an attentive listener. “Ah, old fellow, here you are,” exclaimed Mr. Martinez, in true democratic style. “On time to the second. Let me present you to my friend Señor Leo Leander, Don Enrique Arellano.” The two men shook hands cordially, and Don Enrique Arellano embraced him after the fashion of the nineteenth century Mexicans. The three men in the cab turned from the scene in front of them, and gazed in astonishment at each other. “What deception they are playing,” said Julio. “The fellow introduced as Don Enrique Arellano is none other than the priest, Father Hernandez. “Is it possible?” cried the Governor. “This is a strange affair,” said Señor Guillermo Gonzales; “a strange affair.” “The priest is talking,” said Julio. “We must not lose a word he says.” The three men again turned their faces toward the street, and listened intently to what was being said: “I caught my friend’s last remarks as I came up,” said the man introduced as Don Enrique Arellano. “We must sever the existing relations between the country known as the Republic of Mexico, long, long years ago, and the United States of America. We are determined to re-establish the Republic.” “And how are the latest reports?” asked Mr. Martinez. “I have been assured the support of every bishop in the states that once were a part of long-lost Mexico.” “Our power—I mean the power of the Church, as wielded in the nineteenth-century Mexico, is only known by reading history,” said Mr. Martinez. “I see where you are correct, my friends. The relations must be severed. The civil law must be revised. It is sad, sad, sad to see the poor, downtrodden priests, poorly fed, poorly dressed—those, I mean, who have to depend upon the church only for support. They struggle bravely on and uncomplainingly, hoping and praying, no doubt, to regain the long-lost power they had over the people during the life of Pope Leo XIII.”