"Tell him if you carry those large stones in the day, your life will be consumed like the burning candles before the altar; but that in the cool of the evening, your strength returns as in the days of youth."
"And what, then?" said Joza, wearily.
"I will see that the morning finds your task accomplished," replied Schio.
That night Joza dreamed that his tasks were ended, and that all day long he luxuriated in most delicious ease, under the shade of olive trees, and, when he woke, his heart grew sad, that it was only a dream.
He rose in haste to go to his task, for he had overslept himself; then he thought of Schio's advice. "I will do as he told me, though I fear 'twill do no good," thought he. "I can but fail, and who knows what may come.
"Schio is such a strange fellow; when he's talking, it seems as though a hundred voices rung changes on his words. God grant he's not in league with the devil."
Joza crossed himself, and muttered prayers most devoutly until he reached the house of the padre Antonio.
After he had told the padre all Schio had directed, his task was appointed, and he returned home, all day long resting in the shade of his favorite lime-tree, smoking his cigarettés, and was happy as only a careless, indolent Mexican could be, enjoying the luxury of complete repose.
Toward evening he began to be a little uneasy, but with the dewy twilight, came Schio, waking the mysterious echoes, with his ringing laughter, and, as the darkness deepened, he placed a lantern in Joza's hand, saying: "Now, brother, we will go to the task you complain of so bitterly."
Silently they pursued their way, until they arrived at the huge pile, upon which the padre had appointed Joza to begin his work.