“He is––but it is enough to know that he is the darling of princes, and has not yet been ignored by their sisters! That which he wants in Madrid comes easily to his hand,––and this wild adventuring is unprofitable madness.”
“Not unprofitable shall it remain,” decided Padre Vicente, who had walked near enough to hear their converse, and whose interest was ever alert to further knowledge of their patron.––“Let the heathen sorcerer send what insolent message he will, it does not change the fact the gold has been put into our hands. It is clear proof that the story of the Indian mine was a story of truth.”
“Strange it is that the abhorred Teo the Greek should have been the one to carry word of it out to the world”––mused Don Diego. “Write down in 248 the ‘Relaciones,’ Chico, that the ways of the saints are often wondrous peculiar in the selection of evil instruments for pious works.”
“Yes, Señor, and shall I write down also that the piety has not, up to this date, made so much progress as devout minds could have hoped?”
“You may do so,” conceded Don Diego––“but fail not to give the true reason. Had these poor stubborn barbarians not sent their women away, the padre would have won many souls for the faith ere this. Women are the instruments through which religion reaches men. Not until the women have been frightened back to their homes can we hope for a comforting harvest of souls.”
“There is one soul waiting to be gathered with the harvest,” said the lad, pointing to the outcast. “If Christian prayers could lift from his shaking hands the pagan doom, it would not do more to make converts here than wordy argument.”
“The governor and the head men approve of his sentence because the man made camp here without the word of council,” stated Padre Vicente. “It is not well to meddle with their Pueblo laws.”
Yahn, who listened, saw the smile on Chico’s face, and wondered why the lad should be humorous because the priest did not venture to measure saintly prayers with heathen medicine!
Glad enough she was that it was so, and eager she was that some one should tell to Ka-yemo that his new friends had a weaker god than the god of the Te-hua people,––even the medicine of Tahn-té––the medicine of one man––made them respectful!
But her own lips were sealed between anger and jealousy. Like a sullen figure of fate she had brooded during the days of strange changes. Sullen 249 also she listened to speech of sorcery, and speech of war if war came.