The little girl sprang up and stared hard at the speaker. But no child ever resisted that smile by which Esmond Clarenden held Beverly and me in loving obedience all the days of our lives with him. Shaking with fear as she caught sight of Ferdinand Ramero, the girl reached out her hands toward the merchant, who put his arm protectingly about her. The big, dark eyes were filled with tears; the head with its sunny ripples of tangled hair leaned against him for a moment. Then the fighting spirit came back to her, so early in her young life had the need for defending herself been forced upon her. "Where have I been? Where am I going?" she demanded. "You are going with me now," Uncle Esmond said, softly. "And never have to fight Marcos any more? Oh, good, good, good! Let's go now!" She frowned darkly at Ferdinand Ramero, and, clutching tightly at Esmond Clarenden's hands, she began pulling him toward the open door. "Eloise," Father Josef said, "you are about to go away with this good man who will be a father to you. Be a good child as your mother would want you to be." His musical voice was full of pathos. Eloise dropped her new friend's hand and sprang down the aisle. "I will be good, Father Josef," she said, squeezing his dark hand between her fair little palms. Then, tossing back the curls from her face, she reached up a caressing hand to his cheek. Father Josef stooped and kissed her white forehead, and turned hastily toward the altar. "Esmond Clarenden!" It was Ferdinand Ramero who spoke, his sharp, bitter voice filling the church. "By order of this priest Eloise St. Vrain is yours to protect so long as you stay within these walls. The minute you leave them you reckon with me." Father Josef whirled about quickly, but the man made a scoffing gesture. "I brought this child here for protection this morning. But for that sickly Yankee and two inquisitive imps of boys she would have been safe here. I acknowledge sanctuary privilege. Use it as long as you choose in the church of Agua Fria. Set but a foot outside these walls and I say again you reckon with me." His tall form thrust itself menacingly before the little man and his charge clinging to his arm. "Set but a foot outside these walls and _you_ will reckon with _me_." It was Jondo's clear voice, and the big plainsman, towering up suddenly behind Ferdinand Ramero, filled the doorway.