The sentry wondered who the woman was who had held him belated, for many were now coming from Shufinne, and some of them were pretty.
But Capitan Gonzalvo laid himself down to dream of no woman. He crept to the pallet of Padre Vicente. There were no words lest others be aroused, but a pressure of a hand was enough to bring the padre to his feet, the sleep of the man was ever light as that of one who does sentry duty day time and night time.
Out into the open of the summer night they both passed, and in the shadow of a wall where the Te-hua sentinel could not see, a man of iron broke down and half sobbed a confession of horror.
The padre paced to and fro in the dusk of the night, and gave not over much care to the shaken heart of the penitent.
“A hundred Aves, and half as many rosaries,––and candles for the altar of San Juan when we return to Mexico.” He tabulated the penance on his fingers, with his mind clearly not on those details.
“Take you courage now, and hark to me,” he said 299 brusquely. “You say you saw the maid and the man dead one on the other;––and that you fled across the mesa at sight of their faces. That pretty Apache devil told you that the witch lived at that place, and that the Po-Ahtun-ho was her lover. How know you that it was not indeed witchcraft you looked upon? How know you that the infernal magic was not used to change the faces of the two that you be sent home not knowing which are dead and which are living? This may yet be turned to our advantage.”
Juan Gonzalvo was past thinking. Not though gold was found as plentiful as the white stones of Pu-yé would he again go to the witch accursed spot! His own armor had been touched by the fire of hell in that place until he had lain it aside while he waited for the coming of the sorcerer, and the sorcerer had in some way kept hidden––magic spells had been worked to blind the eyes of Gonzalvo to the faces of the others––even though light was given for the arrows to speed true! He would fight living Indians in the open:––but no more would he trail witches in the dark!
So he mumbled and made prayers and calmed himself somewhat at sight of the calm, ever cool padre.
“Go you to your rest,” said his reverence at last,––“and forget all the work of this night.”
“Forget?––but they will be found––they––”