"I came as duenna. You were surprised when you heard what the señorita had undertaken, but it appeared that my presence might be something of a protection and, perhaps, a guarantee. One concludes that this did not strike you."
Walthew looked embarrassed, but Father Agustin smiled.
"You look as if you need refreshment," he said. "We will have our supper now."
When the meal was finished, Father Agustin kept Walthew talking while Blanca leaned back silently in her chair. Her look was strained, and once Walthew surprised her cautious glance at the clock.
"I had forgotten the despatch-carrier," he said with some sharpness. "He doesn't seem to be coming."
"There is another road; longer and at present dangerous," explained Father Agustin. "We have had it watched, but this is the obvious way for a messenger to take."
"For all that," said Walthew steadily, "I hope the fellow will choose the other."
Neither of them answered. Blanca lay back in her chair; the priest sat with one elbow on the table, his cheek resting on his upturned palm. He was very tired.
Walthew studied him for a moment and then put his thoughts into words.
"It is curious, Father Agustin, that whenever I have met you things began to happen."