“But,” remonstrated the latter, “the expense of keeping her in New York indefinitely! For, unless I mistake much, none of these people will ever see the States after she leaves. And then I have an adopted daughter on my hands! And, heaven knows! now that my ambitious wife is determined to break into New York society with her adorable sister, I have no money to waste on adopted children!”
Rosendo, who had been studying the Americans attentively during their conversation, now laid a hand on Reed’s. “Señor,” he said in a quiet tone, “if you will take the little Carmen with you, and keep her safe from harm until Padre Josè can come to you, or she can be returned to us here, I will transfer to you a half interest in this mine.”
Josè sprang to his feet. His face was blanched with fear. “Rosendo!” he cried wildly, “do not do that! Dios arriba, no! You do not know this man! Ah, señor,” turning to Reed, “I beg you will forgive––but Rosendo is mad to suggest such a thing! We cannot permit it––we––I––oh, God above!” He sank again into his chair and covered his face with his hands.
Don Jorge gave vent to a long, low whistle. Rosendo, his voice husky and his lips trembling, went on:
“I know, Padre––I know. But it must be done! I will give the mine to the American––and to Carmen. He has a powerful government back of him, and he is able to defend the title and save her interest as well as his own. As for me, I––Bien, I shall want nothing when Carmen goes––nothing.”
“For heaven’s sake!” burst in Harris, seizing Reed’s arm. “If you don’t tell me what all this is about now I shall shoot––and not straight up, either!”
“Señores,” said Reed in a controlled voice, “let me talk this matter over with my friend here. I will come to you in an hour.”
Rosendo and Don Jorge bowed and silently withdrew from the parish house. The former went at once to apprise the wondering Doña Maria of the events which had crowded the morning’s early hours and to answer her apprehensive questionings regarding Ana. Carmen was to know only that Ana––but what could he tell her? That the woman had sacrificed herself for the girl? No; but that they had seized this opportunity to send her, under the protection of Captain Morales, to the Sisters of the Convent of Our Lady. The old man knew that the girl would see only God’s hand in the event.
Josè as in a dream sought Carmen. It seemed to him that 338 once his arms closed about her no power under the skies could tear them asunder. He found her sitting in the doorway at the rear of Rosendo’s house, looking dreamily out over the placid lake. Cucumbra, now old and feeble, slept at her feet. As the man approached he heard her murmur repeatedly, “It is not true––it is not true––it is not true!”
“Carmen!” cried Josè, seizing her hand. “Come with me!”