“Ya está! Vámonos!”
“Bully-bueno!” responded Harris, waving his long arms.
The cargadores moved forward in the direction of the Boque trail. The Americans, with a final adios to Doña Maria and the priest, swung into line behind them. Rosendo again tenderly embraced his weeping spouse, and then, turned to Josè.
“The Virgin watch over you and Maria, Padre! I leave her in your care. If the war comes, flee with her to the Boque.”
He threw an arm about the priest and kissed him on both cheeks. Then, calling to Carmen, he turned and started after the others.
The girl rushed into Josè’s arms. Her tears flowed freely.
“Padre,” she murmured, clinging to him and showering him with kisses, “I love you, love you, love you! I will wait for you up there. You will come––or I will come back to you. And I will work for you every day. I will know that you are God’s child, and that you will solve your problem!”
Rosendo, half way down the road, turned and called sharply to her. The girl hurried after him. But again she stopped, turned around, and flew back to Josè, as he knelt in the dust and, with tongue cleaving to his mouth, held out his trembling arms.
“Padre, dearest, dearest Padre,” she sobbed, “I love you, I love you! And––I had forgotten––this––it is for you to read every day––every day!” She thrust a folded paper into his hand. Again she tore herself away and ran after the impatient Rosendo. In a moment they were out of sight.