‘May one inquire where that will be?’ I ventured to ask.
She shook her head.
‘It is an affair of duty. I am going a very long way, and you will never see me again.’
‘And Father Kehler,’ I forced myself to say, ‘does he accompany you?’
A momentary expression of repugnance, almost of loathing, flashed out on her pale face.
‘No, no! The padre has done his part in conducting me so far, and finding me the situation of which I was in search. I have parted with him now, and we have nothing more to do with one another.’
This answer relieved my mind of a burden. I came hastily to the conclusion that Kehler, finding himself able to carry out his projects without assistance, had decided to dispense with an embarrassing ally, and I was glad to think that this poor girl would be delivered from his evil influence.
What blindness are we capable of towards those very things which seem the clearest to our after-recollections!
I took the precaution to ascertain at the bureau that Kehler was still staying on in the hotel, and I came down to dinner with a light heart.
A number of the American officers were dining in the hotel that night. There appeared to be a sort of entertainment going forward, in which some Spanish officers from the garrison were fraternising with them.