"You know something more?" he said. "I know there is another woman who has Rafael tied hand and foot; I know she will take him away; the only thing I do not know is how long it will last. The bishop himself would help such a separation." "God himself could not," said Keith, "unless he kill Rafael Arteaga. When I heard what he said of her outside the window, I was tempted to kill him with my own hand. Nothing else would free her; I heard the oath she took!" "To send to eternity the soul she is vowed to guard would not free her from the idea. If he should die suddenly, unshriven, it is a lost soul, just the same." "It is the maddest fanaticism to bind a child like that to such a hell; and she accepts it, as--as her people in the past accepted the order for sacrifices." "What do you know of her people?" "What do you?" The two men looked into each other's eyes for a moment, and then Padre Libertad spoke: "I saw her mother years ago in Mexico. I was only a boy, and I adored Estevan. I carried letters for their love-making. That helps me to understand their daughter. It is true; it is in the blood, and you must go, my friend, before worse happens. And if ever she should be free--" Keith put out his hand. "Don't tempt me with a hope like that! I want to be sane when I do see her!" * * * * * He saw Dona Angela first, a delightful vision of brocades and white mantilla. She had dressed early, that she might help to receive the guests. She flinched a little under his keen glance as his eyes wandered from the pearl-trimmed bodice to the fair face. "Oh, of course it is not mourning," she exclaimed, "if that is what you are thinking of! But at least I wear no color, and it is only for one night. I have not the least intention of dancing. The whole affair is only to show off the old costumes." "You succeed very well," he remarked. "Let Dolly come around to see me when she has had supper. I leave early in the morning, and can't see her then to say good-bye." "So soon--going?" She tried to keep the delight from her tone of surprise. He was the most unmanageable man she had ever known. His indifference had attracted her, even infatuated her, a year ago, but there were days since when she thought she hated him. "Yes, I will send Dolly. She loves you dearly, more even than she did poor Ted." "We will not discuss my brother," he said, coldly. "But that will not prevent me caring for the child as he would have done." "Irrespective of her mother?" she asked, halting in the door and looking over her shoulder at him. "Certainly." "Or--or of anything I might offend you in?" "Nothing you choose to do will affect my promise to my brother," he said, impatient at her persistence. "I may remind you of that some day," she said, gathering up her brocades. "If you do go, I hope that ghoul of a man, your padre, goes too. His silence makes him more like a spook than a man. The people have a holy horror of his piety."