Two years later I was a.s.signed to the parish of Simiti. Here I saw the little locket which I had given her, and knew that Carmen was my child. Ah, _Dios!_ what a revelation to a breaking heart! But I could not openly acknowledge her, for I was already in disgrace, as you know. And, once down, it is easy to sink still further. I confess, I was indiscreet here. I was forced to fly. Rosendo"s daughter followed me, despite my protests. I was a.s.signed to Banco. _Bien_, time pa.s.sed, and you came. I had hoped you would take the little Carmen under your protection. G.o.d, how I grieved for the child! At last I determined, come what might, to see her. The revolution drove me to the mountains; and love for my girl brought me by way of Simiti. And now, _amigo_, you have my confession--and you will not be hard on me? _Caramba_, I need a friend!" He sat down, and mopped his wet brow. His talk had shaken him visibly.
Again oppressive silence. Jose was staring with unseeing eyes out through the open doorway. A stream of sunlight poured over the dusty threshold, and myriad motes danced in the golden flood.
"_Bien, amigo_," Diego resumed, with more confidence. "I had not thought to reveal this, my secret, to you--nor to any one, for that matter--but just to get a peep at my little daughter, and a.s.sure my anxious heart of her welfare. But since coming here and seeing how mature she is my plans have taken more definite shape. I shall leave at daybreak to-morrow, if Don Mario can have my supplies ready on this short notice, and--will take Carmen with me."
Jose struggled wearily to his feet. The color had left his face, and ages seemed to bestride his bent shoulders. His voice quavered as he slowly spoke.
"Leave me now, Don Diego. It were better that we should not meet again until you depart."
"But, _amigo_--ah, I feel for you, believe me! You are attached to the child--who would not be? _Caramba_, what is this world but a cemetery of bleaching hopes! But--how can I ask it? _Amigo_, send the child to me at the house of the Alcalde. I would hold her in my arms and feel a father"s joy. And bid the good Dona Maria make her ready for to-morrow"s journey."
Jose turned to the man. An ominous calm now possessed him. "You said--the San Lucas district?"
"_Quien sabe?_ good friend," Diego made hasty reply. "My plans seem quite altered since coming here. _Bien_, we must see. But I will leave you now. And you will send Carmen to me at once? And bid her bring her mother"s locket. _Conque, hasta luego, amigo._"
He went to the door, and seeing his two negro _peones_ loitering near, walked confidently and briskly to the house of Don Mario.
Jose, bewildered and benumbed, staggered into his sleeping room and sank upon the bed.
"Padre--Padre dear."
Carmen stood beside the stricken priest, and her little hand crept into his.
"I watched until I saw him go, and then I came in. He has bad thoughts, hasn"t he? But--Padre dear, what is it? Did he make you think bad thoughts, too? He can"t, you know, if you don"t want to."
She bent over him and laid her cheek against his. Jose stared unseeing up at the thatch roof.
"Padre dear, everything has a rule, a principle, you told me. Don"t you remember? But his thoughts haven"t any principle, have they? Any more than the mistakes I make in algebra. Aren"t we glad we know that!"
The child kissed the suffering man and wound her arms about his neck.
"Padre dear, he couldn"t say anything that could make you unhappy--he just couldn"t! G.o.d is _everywhere_, and you are His child--and I am, too--and--and there just isn"t anything here but G.o.d, and we are in Him. Why, Padre, we are in Him, just like the little fish in the lake!
Isn"t it nice to know that--to really _know_ it?"
Aye, if he had really known it he would not now be stretched upon a bed of torment. Yet, Carmen knew it. And his suffering was for her.
Was he not really yielding to the mesmerism of human events? Why, oh, why could he not remain superior to them? Why continually rise and fall, tossed through his brief years like a dry weed in the blast?
It was because he _would_ know evil, and yield to its mesmerism. His enemies were not without, but within. How could he hope to be free until he had pa.s.sed from self-consciousness to the sole consciousness of infinite good?
"Padre dear, his bad thoughts have only the minus sign, haven"t they?"
Yes, and Jose"s now carried the same symbol of nothingness. Carmen was linked to the omnipresent mind that is G.o.d; and no power, be it Diego or his superior, Wenceslas, could effect a separation.
But if Carmen was Diego"s child, she must go with him. Jose could no longer endure this torturing thought. He rose from the bed and sought Dona Maria.
"Senora," he pleaded, "tell me again what you know of Carmen"s parents."
The good woman was surprised at the question, but could add nothing to what Rosendo had already told him. He asked to see again the locket.
Alas! study it as he might, the portrait of the man was wholly indistinguishable. The sweet, sad face of the young mother looked out from its frame like a suffering. Magdalen. In it he thought he saw a resemblance to Carmen. As for Diego, the child certainly did not resemble him in the least. But years of dissipation and evil doubtless had wrought their changes in his features.
He looked around for Carmen. She had disappeared. He rose and searched through the house for her. Dona Maria, busy in the kitchen, had not seen her leave. His search futile, he returned with heavy heart to his own house and sat down to think. Mechanically he opened his Bible.
_When thou pa.s.sest through the waters, I will be with thee._ Not "if,"
but "when." The sharp experiences of human existence are not to be avoided. But in their very midst the Christ-principle is available to the faithful searcher and worker.
Dona Maria came with the midday meal. Carmen had not returned. Jose, alarmed beyond measure, prepared to set out in search of her. But at that moment one of Diego"s _peones_ appeared at the door with his master"s request that the child be sent at once to him. At least, then, she was not in his hands; and Jose breathed more freely. It seemed to him that, should he see her in Diego"s arms, he must certainly strangle him. He shuddered at the thought. Only a few minutes before he had threatened to kill him!
He left his food untasted. Unspeakably wearied with his incessant mental battle, he threw himself again upon his bed, and at length sank into a deep sleep.
The shadows were gathering when he awoke with a start. He heard a call from the street. Leaping from the bed, he hastened to the door, just as Rosendo, swaying beneath his pack, and accompanied by Lazaro Ortiz, rounded the corner and made toward him.
_"Hola, amigo Cura!"_ Rosendo shouted, his face radiant. "Come and bid me welcome, and receive good news!"
At the same moment Carmen came flying toward them from the direction of the shales. Jose instantly divined the motive which had sent her out there. He turned his face to hide the tears which sprang to his eyes.
"Thank G.o.d!" he murmured in a choking voice. Then he hastened to his faithful ally and clasped him in his arms.
CHAPTER 16
Struggling vainly with his agitation, while the good tidings which he could no longer hold fairly bubbled from his lips, Rosendo dragged the priest into the parish house and made fast the doors. Swinging his chair to the floor, he hastily unstrapped his kit and extracted a canvas bag, which he handed to Jose.
"Padre," he exclaimed in a loud whisper, "we have found it!"
"Found what?" the bewildered Jose managed to ask.
"Gold, Padre--gold! Look, the bag is full! _Hombre!_ not less than forty _pesos oro_--and more up there--quien sabe how much!
_Caramba!_"
Rosendo fell into a chair, panting with excitement. Jose sat down with quickening pulse and waited for the full story. It was not long coming.
"Padre--I knew we would find it--but not this way! _Hombre!_ It was back of Popales. I had been washing the sands there for two days after my return. There was a town at that place, years ago. The stone foundations of the houses can still be seen. The Tigui was rich at that point then; but it is washed out now. _Bien_, one morning I started out at daybreak to prospect Popales creek, the little stream cutting back into the hills behind the old settlement. There was a heavy mist over the whole valley, and I could not see ten feet before my face. _Bien_, I had gone up-stream a long distance, perhaps several miles, without finding more than a few colors, when suddenly the mist began to clear, and there before me, only a few feet away, stood a young deer, just as dumfounded as I was."
He paused a moment for breath, laughing meanwhile at the memory of his surprise. Then he resumed.
"_Bueno_, fresh venison looked good to me, Padre, living on salt _bagre_ and beans. But I had no weapon, save my _machete_. So I let drive with that, and with all my strength. The big knife struck the deer on a leg. The animal turned and started swiftly up the mountain side, with myself in pursuit. _Caramba_, that was a climb! But with his belly chasing him, a hungry man will climb anything! Through palms and ferns and high weeds, falling over rocks and tripping on ground vines we went, clear to the top of the hill. Then the animal turned and plunged down a glen. On the descent it traveled faster, and in a few minutes had pa.s.sed clean from my sight. _Caramba_, I was angry!"
He stopped to laugh again at the incident.
"The glen," he continued, "ran down for perhaps a hundred yards, and then widened into a clearing. I have been in the Popales country many times, Padre, but I had never been to the top of this mountain, nor had I ever seen this glen, which seemed to be an ancient trail. So I went on down toward the clearing. As I approached it I crossed what apparently was the bed of an ancient stream, dry now, but with many pools of water from the recent rains, which are very heavy in that region. _Bien_, I turned and followed this dry bed for a long distance, and at last came out into the open. I found myself in a circular s.p.a.ce, surrounded by high hills, with no opening but the stream bed along which I had come. At the far end of the basin-shaped clearing the creek bed stopped abruptly; and I then knew that the water had formerly come over the cliff above in a high waterfall, but had flowed in a direction opposite to that of Popales creek, this mountain being the divide.
"_Bueno_; now for my discovery! I several times filled my _batea_ with gravel from the dry bed and washed it in one of the pools. I got only a few scattered colors. But as I dug along the margin of the bed I noticed what seemed to be pieces of adobe bricks. I went on up one side of the bowl-shaped glen, and found many such pieces, and in some places stones that had served as foundations for houses at one time.
So I knew that there had been a town there, long, long ago. But it must have been an Indian village, for had it been known to the Spaniards I surely would have learned of it from my parents. The ground higher up was strewn with the broken bricks. I picked up many of the pieces and examined them. Almost every one showed a color or two of gold; but not enough to pay washing the clay from which they had been made. But--and here is the end of my story--I have said that this open s.p.a.ce was shaped like a bowl, with all sides dipping sharply to the center. It occurred to me that in the years--who knows how many?--that have pa.s.sed since this town was abandoned, the heavy rains that had dissolved the mud bricks also must have washed the mud and the gold it carried down into the center of this basin, where, with great quant.i.ties of water sweeping over it every rainy season, the clay and sand would gradually wash out, leaving the gold concentrated in the center."