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Since Aunt Mercy's campaign had opened, and the news of it was spread abroad, these men must be told the facts, and know his own attitude. He might well need their assistance in the future, as they, in the past, had needed the Padre's. "I take it you mean that, Beasley," he said without warmth. Then, ignoring the man, he turned to those gathered about him.
The earth shook; stones fell thick around him; dense clouds of ashes darkened the air; loud thunders came from the mountain top, and he took to precipitate flight. The Padre's account is too lively and instructive for his own words to be omitted.
The padre's voice, calling out, "Signora, you are left in the dark," reassured her and gave her courage to turn and run down to join the others, who were disappearing through a low door. This led into what seemed an immense hall, judging from the echoes.
The trappers who appealed to him in their need left him with a knowledge that their efforts must be increased if they were to pay off their credits, and keep up their profits for the next winter's supplies. Then, too, he avoided Kars, who was sharing the Padre's hospitality, and even abandoned his nightly visits to the priest, which had been his habit of years.
His breathing was less laboured, but his voice was growing weaker, and his strength was going with the fever. Don Clemente took his wrist and held it for some time. Then he rose. "Are you going for the habit?" Benedetto murmured, with a sweet smile. The Padre's handsome face flushed.
In a few days the Padre's prophecy was fulfilled. Beasley returned from Leeson Butte at the head of a small convoy. He had contrived his negotiations with a wonderful skill and foresight. His whole object had been secrecy, and this had been difficult.
The yellow lamplight plainly revealed their different expressions. The Padre's smile was inimitable in its sphinx-like obscurity, but Buck's eyes were frankly troubled. "And that means?" Buck's question rang sharply. "She has neither forgotten nor forgiven." Buck returned abruptly to his contemplation of the night, but his thoughts were no longer the happy thoughts of the lover.
The Padre's story was still vivid in his mind; he could never forget it. Nor could he forget this woman's place in it. These thoughts set him speculating uneasily as to the possible result of her visit. He surreptitiously glanced over at the silent figure beside the stove. The man's pipe was still in his mouth, but it had gone out.
Give me that telephone! "Snatching it from her hands he got the French headquarters, though he did not know to whom he was speaking. "'Speaking to you is a Prussian major, he said in French. 'He has just discovered why the French have been so fully informed. The spy who has thus informed you is the Padré's niece. She dies tonight!
But habit was strong upon Buck, and his gratitude found no outlet in words when the moment came. Far from it. On his arrival he found the Padre sitting at their fireside without even the most ordinary welcome on his lips. A matter so unusual that it found Buck dumb, waiting for the lead to come, as he knew it inevitably would, in the Padre's own good time.
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