"Enough said then," returned Gonsalvo, more coldly. "Farewell; I seek not to detain you. Farewell; for though we may go forth together, our paths divide, and for ever, at the door."
"Your path is perhaps less safe than mine, Don Gonsalvo."
"Talk of what you understand, cousin. My path is safety itself. And now that I think of it (if you could be trusted), you might aid me perhaps. Did you know all, I dare not doubt that you would rejoice to do it."
"God knows how joyfully I would aid you if I could, Don Gonsalvo. But I fear you are bound on a useless, and worse than useless, errand."
"You know not my errand."
"But I know to whom you go this night. Oh, my cousin, is it possible you can dream that prayer of yours will soften hearts harder than the nether millstone?"
"I know the way to one heart; and though it be the hardest of all, I shall reach it."
"Were you to pour the wealth of El Dorado at the feet of Gonzales de Munebrãga, he neither would nor could unloose one bolt of that prison."
Gonsalvo's wild look changed suddenly into one of wistful earnestness, almost of tenderness. He said, lowering his voice,--
"Near as death, the revealer of secrets, may be to me, there are still some questions worth the asking. Perchance you can throw a gleam of light upon this horrible darkness. We are speaking frankly now, and as in God's presence. Tell me, it that charge true?"