“To where there is no beyond?” said Ramón.
“Yes, there.”
And in a moment or two, Cipriano was wrapped in his blanket again, and asleep.
He did not wake till the afternoon. Then he ate, and took a boat, and rowed down the lake to Kate. He found her at home. She was surprised to see him, in his white clothes and with his sarape of Huitzilopochtli.
“I am going to be the living Huitzilopochtli,” he said.
“Are you? When? Does it feel queer?”—Kate was afraid of his eyes, they seemed inhuman.
“On Thursday. The day of Huitzilopochtli is to be Thursday. Won’t you sit beside me, and be wife of me when I am a god?”
“But do you feel you are a god?” she asked, querulous.
He turned his eyes on her strangely.
“I have been,” he said. “And I have come back. But I belong there, where I went.”