“That you may save it for the king, Señor!” he said gently, and bowing with more of grace than a courtier who does homage, he returned to his place.
Padre Vicente turned gray white under the tan. Don Diego crossed himself and muttered a prayer. Juan Gonzalvo uttered an expletive and half smothered it in a gasp as the face of Tahn-té caught the light for one instant.
“Blood of Christ!”––he whispered––“look at his eyes––his eyes!”
Don Ruy caught the arm of the man and pressed it for warning to silence. When he turned a more composed face to the circle, the secretary was looking at him and there was something like terror in the face of the lad. Each knew the thought of the other––each remembered the words of Juan Gonzalvo at Ah-ko,––also the basket of the sacred first fruit at the portal under the dove cote––also the blue eyes of the Greek––blue with lashes so long and so heavy that black might be their color. The pagan priest would need all the help of his gods if Juan Gonzalvo caught this thought of theirs!
Padre Vicente recovered himself, kissed the crucifix and slipped it within his robe.
“The words of this man are the words Satan is clever in coining when the false gods speak and reject the true,” he stated quietly. “My children, we must not hold this against the weak human brother. The devils of necromancy and sorcery are stubborn––but 182 ere this the stubbornness has been broken, and the saints have rejoiced! It is plain that devilish arts could not prosper where the Image remained––hence it has been given back! Make no mistake my children, where the word of God, and the Image rest,––there the pagan powers must ever grow weak. Thanks be that this is so! Remember it––all of you when you pray!”
Don Diego started his prayers at once, while Juan Gonzalvo leaned forward and stared at the pagan sorcerer like a hound held in leash.
The Te-hua men had heard only gentle tones from Tahn-té and thought little of the strange change in the faces of the Castilians.––Tahn-té many times said surprising things––that was all!
But Tahn-té, listening closely to the priestly admonition as Padre Vicente grasped all the meaning of it. He was being branded as a worker of evil magic––a sorcerer––the most difficult accusation of all to fight down in an Indian mind!
He looked from face to face of the strangers––halted at the secretary, but seeing there either fear or sympathy––his eyes sought further, and rested on Don Ruy.