"There is no harm in doing so," the latter replied; "an adventurer should never go unarmed."
"Very good; I will remember that."
They proceeded inland, following a scarce-traced path, which ran with a gentle incline from the beech, wound round a rather steep hill, and after passing through a leafy mahogany forest, led to a narrow esplanade, in the centre of which a light canvas tent had been pitched, not far from a rock.
A man, seated before the entrance of the tent, was reading a Breviary. He was dressed in the strict attire of the Franciscans, and seemed to have passed middle life. He was pale and thin, his features were ascetic and stern, his countenance was intelligent, and a marked expression of gentleness was spread over it. At the sound of the adventurers' footsteps he raised his head quickly, turned towards them, and a melancholy smile played round his lips.
Hurriedly closing his book, he rose and walked a few steps toward the newcomers.
"Heaven be with you, brothers!" he said in Spanish, "If you come with pure intentions; if not, may it inspire you with better thoughts."
"My father," the filibuster said, returning his salutation, "I am the man whom the adventurers of St. Kitts call Montbarts, and my intentions are pure, for in coming here I have only yielded to the desire you expressed to see me, if you are really Fray Arsenio Mendoza, from whom I received a letter a few hours ago."
"I am the person who wish to see you, brother; and that is really my name."
"In that case speak, I am ready to hear you."
"Brother," the monk answered, "the things I have to communicate to you are of the highest importance, and concern you alone. Perhaps it would be better that you alone should hear them."