Suddenly, without the door, sounded voices in altercation, and a servant entered, protesting with many apologies that there was a reverend father without who demanded to see his Excellency at once on a matter that would brook no delay. The Governor leaned back in his chair with an air of great annoyance; but Dona Orosia said quickly, "Bid the father enter." A tall form in a friar's dark habit appeared on the threshold. I recognized, under the cowl, the thin, sallow face and the sombre eyes. I had seen them at the door of the chapel in the castle courtyard on the night of our arrival, and many times since. They belonged to Padre Felipe, the confessor of the Governor's wife, and her adviser, I believed, in affairs temporal as well as spiritual. Something told me he had come hither at her bidding, and I glanced at her for confirmation; but Dona Orosia leaned with one elbow on the table, her chin upon her white hand, the other rounded arm outstretched with an almond in the slim fingers for the delectation of the green parrot on his perch beside her. Not a flicker of interest was visible on her beautiful, sullen face; so I turned away with some disappointment to hear what the padre was saying. His voice was low-pitched and husky, and I could scarce distinguish what he said, save that it concerned someone who was ill--nay, _dead_, it seemed, and needing instant burial. The Governor listened with a gathering scowl upon his face, till suddenly he started up with such haste that his chair fell backward with a noisy clatter. "_Santa Maria!_ Dead of the black vomit? And you come hither with the vile contagion clinging to your very garments!" "Nay," said the friar's deep, hollow voice, as he lifted a reassuring hand. "I have changed my robes. You and yours are in no danger, my son." "In no danger!" repeated the Governor, his face becoming purple and his voice choked; "no danger, when the foul carcass lies unburied, tainting the very air with death! Throw it over in the sea--nay, set fire to the miserable hut in which it lies, and let all be consumed together!" "Who is it that is dead?" asked Dona Orosia. She had risen, and stood with one hand holding back her skirts, her full, red upper lip slightly drawn, and her delicate nostrils dilated, as though the very mention of the loathed disease filled her with disgust. "A wretched half-breed boy, some thieving member of the padre's flock," exclaimed the Governor impatiently. "Set fire to the hut, I say!" But Dona Orosia interrupted once again. "Padre, what is it that you desire?" The sombre eyes were turned on her for the first time. "The boy was a Christian, my daughter, and I would give him Christian burial." "Surely," said Dona Orosia. "What is to prevent?" "Would you spread the infection through the town?" exclaimed the Governor, white with fear.