"For what good?" Don Pablo said, with an air of indifference; "if a sereno were to pass he might accuse us of having killed the man."
"Nay, sir," the missionary observed, "the ways of the Lord are impenetrable. If He allowed us to come across this unhappy man, it was because He judged in His wisdom that we might prove of use to him."
"Be it so," the young man said; "let us look at him, as you wish it. But you know that in this country good actions of such a nature generally entail annoyance."
"That is true, my son. Well, we will run the risk," said the missionary, who had already bent over the wounded man.
"As you please," Don Pablo said, as he followed him.
Shaw, for it was he, gave no signs of life. The missionary examined him, then rose hastily, seized Don Pablo's arm, and drew him to him, as he whispered—
"Look!"
"Shaw!" the Mexican exclaimed, in surprise; "What could that man be doing here?"
"Help me, and we shall learn. The poor fellow has only fainted; and the loss of blood has produced this semblance to death."
Don Pablo, greatly perplexed by this singular meeting, obeyed the missionary without further remark. The two men raised the wounded lad, and carried him gently to Father Seraphin's lodging, where they proposed to give him all the help his condition required.