"That will do him good," said Rafael. "Rub him well, and he will look like black satin. And the Dona Raquel is--" "Your wife went to her own chapel; she saw no one," observed Dona Maria. "I should go in, but if she is at prayers--" [Illustration: "THEIR HOSTESS HAD ARRIVED"] If she had been, her prayers were ended, for as they spoke she opened the door and came out on the corridor. She was more pale than Rafael had ever seen her, and without greeting to anyone, she spoke. "Rafael, two men have been hurt in the mountain, a priest and--the American who was missing from the vigilantes. I think--I understand that he saved the life of the padre--and both were hurt, and--they are bringing him here." "The American? You mean Keith Bryton?" "Yes, I mean Keith Bryton," she said, steadily. "I rode ahead. Ana is coming with them; she thinks he is very ill--and the padre also was hurt--and--" "Keith!" cried Dona Angela, sharply. "He is hurt--and coming here--_here_?" "There was no place else to send them," said Raquel, quietly. "There has always been room in the Mission for the sick or wounded--and in this case--" "That is right," exclaimed Rafael, with nervous approval; "that is all right. Where should Senor Bryton go but where his friends are? This is his sister, Senora Bryton. It is well she is here; sick men need their own women folks about them. Raquelita, thou art white as the lilies in the garden! Get you some wine while I see to beds for the sick. It was lucky you and Ana chanced to meet them. When did Tomas reach you with the letter?" She did not reply. Dona Maria was also asking questions, and telling her the Padre Andros had gone again to San Luis Rey for a week, and the three women entered the dining-room, leaving Rafael's question unanswered. He supposed that Raquel and Ana had ridden south at his bidding, and was elated that she had received the Dona Maria and her guest as she had--without gladness, of course, but without signs of displeasure. He divined there was a white devil of rage under her calm exterior, but that made no difference so long as she showed no outward sign of it. Evidently she had accepted the fact that he meant to be master; after that, life would be easier in Capistrano. He had always been a bit resentful of Keith Bryton's attitude toward himself. Never since that dictatorial letter to San Pedro had he felt easy with him, and there was no doubt whatever that Bryton had avoided him since his marriage. But he forgot all that in the satisfaction of the news Raquel brought.