There was a moment's pause. Some gleam of thankfulness began to come into the executioners' eyes. The woman dropped her arms to clasp her hands with renewed hope and entreaty. A shade of half-impatient curiosity gathered on the Cacique's face. He had betrayed no agitation at impending death, but this reprieve troubled him. And it was only a reprieve. The passionate earnestness of Montoro did touch some answering chord in the Indian's breast which the priest had not known how to reach, and, but for that swift-flying news from Caonao, Hatuey might have consented to look forward to the Paradise which Montoro painted in such glowing colours. But, as he listened with some signs of yielding on his face, recollections crowded back upon his mind, and suddenly turning full to Montoro, he asked with startling abruptness-- "But tell me then, assure me of this. There are two of these abodes of bliss, are there?--two of these glorious, sunlit homes of paradise?" Diego's eyes widened with wonder. So earnest, so eager were the tone and manner of the questioner as he put his singular query, that the answer was not at once forthcoming. He repeated it impatiently. "Tell me then, and truly, if one of the white-faces knows how to speak the truth--has this gracious Lord of whom you speak provided one Paradise for those of your race, another for His children here? I would know that before I hear ought else, or give my answer to your plea." Yet again Montoro paused an instant, and then he replied slowly and distinctly-- "They shall be one fold under one Shepherd. Spaniards and Indians who have been good, and loved their Lord, will live there together in love." As that last word was uttered the Cacique drew himself up to his full height once more, and with curling lip exclaimed-- "In love, you say! Ah! in love such as that which murdered my people in Haiti, and drove me from my home! In love such as that which has hunted me to death, and will look on now to note exultingly if my tortured body writhes! In love such as that which has slain the hundreds of the innocent and the helpless at Caonao! The love of the wild cat or of the rattle-snake! I spurn your love! I hate your love! and will none of your Lord nor of your Paradise. Our gods teach us not such love. Light your fires quickly. I welcome your faggots and their flames. I long to escape from the sight of the faces of the dastard white men to my own heaven, where nought so vile as a Spaniard can ever hope to enter." Montoro fell back stunned from before the dark face working with mortal hatred. Stumbling against the woman, who once again lay moaning on the ground, he stooped to raise her, and the next moment he himself, with his swooning charge, was dragged back from the lighted pile, and forced by friendly hands to the outside of the wide circle; while Hatuey, the heathen patriot, was burnt to death by Spaniards claiming to do all things "for the glory of the Christian faith."