“Easily from here; my carriage is at your disposal—a drive at leisure through the mountains, a most beautiful and interesting trip. Near the Val Sinestra, there is an ancient bit of architecture, a deserted chapel; it is now the property of a poor community headed by a great man, Pastor Staehli; the Church should buy it back.”
“I will see to it,” said Father Cabello.
The next day he started out; there was no trace of anger in the blue sky, but the driver pointed to a small watery cloud low on the horizon.
“We are going to have a storm; would it not be better to wait until it is over?” said the Superior.
Father Cabello hesitated, then he answered:
“I want to be at Val Sinestra before the twenty-second. I am being pushed by a strong impulse, which has some mysterious significance—a call for help from one I love.”
“Then go, in God’s name.”
That drive through the mountains was a sacrament. Father Cabello bowed before a great God, clothed in a sacerdotal vestment of Nature.
“There is the chapel,” said the driver. It was distinctly visible in the valley below.
Suddenly a shot rang out.