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Arrived before the altar the procession divided into halves, fifteen upon the east side of the chancel, fifteen upon the west. The organ began to drone and murmur, the censers swung and smoked, the candle-flames flared and attracted the bats that lived among the rafters overhead. Buelna knelt before the Mother Superior. She was pale and a little thin from fasting and the seclusion of the cells.
There were some thirty in the procession. The first ranks swung censers; those in the rear carried lighted candles. The Mother Superior and Buelna, the latter wearing a white veil, walked together. The youngest nun followed these two, carrying upon her outspread palms the black veil.
Only to-day the party that is to say, Martiarena, the Mother Superior and Buelna left for Santa Teresa, and at midnight of this very night Buelna takes the veil. You know your own heart, Senor Felipe. Go your way." "But not till midnight!" cried Felipe. "What? I do not understand." "She will not take the veil till midnight." "No, not till then." "Rafael," cried Felipe, "ask me no questions now.
Confusion seized upon him. All that was clear in his mind were the last words of Rubia. It seemed to him that between his lips he carried a poison deadly to Buelna above all others. Stupidly, brutally he precipitated the catastrophe. "No," he exclaimed seriously, abruptly drawing his hand from Buelna's, "no. It may not be. I cannot." Martiarena stared. Then: "Is this a jest, senor?" he demanded.
"Ah, it is you, Arillaga," he said very sadly, as the moonlight struck across Felipe's face. "I had hoped never to see you again." "Buelna," demanded Felipe. "I have something to say to her, and to the padron." "Too late, senor." "My God, dead?" "As good as dead." "Rafael, tell me all. I have come to set everything straight again. On my honour, I have been misjudged. Is Buelna well?" "Listen.
Old Martiarena kissed both his cheeks, patting him on the back. "Oh, ho!" he cried. "Once more back. We have just returned from the feast of the Santa Cruz at the Mission, and Buelna prayed for your safe return. Go to her, boy. She has waited long for this hour." Felipe, his eyes upon those of his betrothed, advanced. She was looking at him and smiling.
All is well lost so only that love remains. And I have heard all that has happened this other one, the Senorita Buelna, how that she for bade you her lands. Let her go; she is not worthy of your love, cold, selfish " "Stop!" cried Felipe, "you shall say no more evil of her. It is enough." "Felipe, you love her yet?" "And always, always will."
"I cannot." "Then I will tell you!" shouted the old fellow in Felipe's face. "It means that you are a liar and a rascal. That you have played with Buelna, and that you have deceived me, who have trusted you as a father would have trusted a son. I forbid you to answer me. For the sake of what you were I spare you now. But this I will do. Off of my rancho!" he cried.
Then at her side, on a saddle of red leather with silver bosses, which was cinched about the body of a very small white burro, Buelna herself. Her hair was blond, her eyes blue-gray, her eyebrows and lashes dark brown, and as he caught sight of her Felipe wondered how he ever could have believed the swarthy Rubia beautiful. There was a jubilant meeting.
He would see Buelna, and she, believing always in his fidelity, would expect to kiss him. "Well, this is to be thought about," murmured Felipe uneasily. He touched up the pony with one of his enormous spurs. "Now I know what I will do," he thought. "I will go to San Juan Bautista and confess and be absolved, and will buy candles. Then afterward will go to Buelna."
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