“I did not intend to tell you this until morning. But it is right that you should hear it now, that your courage may rise in the face of danger. What think you? The federal government is sending arms to Simití to establish a base here at the outlet of the Guamocó region, and well hidden from the Magdalena 285 river. This town is to become a military depot, unless I mistake the signs. And danger no longer threatens, but is at our door.”
“Ca-ram-ba!” Rosendo rose slowly and drew himself up to his full height. “War!” he exclaimed in a hoarse whisper.
“There is no question about it, Rosendo,” replied Josè gravely. “And I have no reason to doubt the truth of Diego’s prophecy, that this time it will be one to be reckoned with.”
“Hombre! And Carmen?”
“Take her into the hills, Rosendo. Start to-morrow.”
“But you?”
Josè’s thought was dwelling on his last talk with the girl. Again he felt her soft arms about his neck, and her warm breath against his cheek. He felt her kiss, and heard again her words, the sweetest, he thought, that had ever echoed in mortal ears. And then he thought of his mother, of his office, of the thousand obstacles that loomed huge and insurmountable between him and Carmen. He passed a hand across his brow and sighed heavily.
“I remain here, Rosendo. I am weary, unutterably weary. I welcome, not only the opportunity for service which this war may bring, but likewise the hope of––death. If I could but know that she were safe––”
“Caramba! Think you she would leave you here, Padre? No!” Did Rosendo’s words convey aught to the priest that he did not already know?
“But––Rosendo, I shall not go,” he returned bitterly.