"What do you mean by such foolishness, Juana?" he demanded.
What a heart of stone he had that it did not melt when the dark eyes, filled with tears, turned pleadingly up to his, and the stammering tongue in pretty, crooked words, said: "The Lord, Christ Jesus, he is my Master," and Juana's tongue lingered lovingly over the word—she had lately learned it in English, and it meant so much to her—"I fear, oh! very much, to not please Him; I must follow what He says to me here," and both small hands clasped themselves over her heart.
Paul's answer was a torrent of invectives and reproaches, ending with—"I am your master! You are to obey me and none other." And then he stooped lower, close to her ear, and whispered words that he knew would be terrible to her: "If you do not, I will cast you off!"
It was not will-power, nor strength of purpose—inherited from any ancestor, either Spanish or Mexican—but grace divine, that enabled Juana to maintain outward calmness, though her cheek blanched, and lift her soul to her Lord, breathing a solemn vow to be faithful to Him, come what would.
When Paul was angry, he came nearer to being in earnest than at any other time. He hated "religionists," and was determined not to have the wings of the pretty bird he had caught clipped by such fanaticism. Moreover, he wished to be the God himself to whom she bowed down. He would brook no rival. So he ordered her to give up her Bible reading and her praying, and cast her faith to the winds, expecting to be meekly obeyed; but Juana, although nearly heart-broken at his displeasure, remained firm, and when he saw that neither commands, threats, nor persuasions availed with her, he was furious, and resolved to leave her to herself, hoping that by an unusually protracted absence, loneliness would bring her to terms.
"I shall soon return if you write me that you will be perfectly obedient," Paul had said, as he rode away, and now Juana, in the glory and beauty of the summer afternoon, sat on that upper balcony watching him disappear through the great gateway—gone and she alone in her sorrow. "What if he never came up that flower 'broidered path again? Her Paul was firm, he would not relent." (The poor, blind child did not know that Paul was stubborn instead of firm.)
Martyrs of all ages have cheerfully given up their lives, but who shall say which is most heroic—to be torn limb from limb, or to tear the heart from its clay idol? To give the body to be burned, or through the slow-going years yield the heart to the crucible for His sake?
Weary days, and weeks, and months passed, and still Paul remained away, but the heart of the young disciple, though it often fainted, did not fail. Her Bible was her constant occupation, and the blessed Saviour her friend and guest, for he did abide at her house and in her heart; so that the loneliness was not so great as Paul imagined. He received many letters from her, but with no word of retraction. She plead for his return, begging him not to cast her off. She would do anything for him but deny or displease "the dear Christ Jesus." "He do make me happy even in my sorrow," she wrote. This was more than the vain man could bear; as if Juana should be made happy by anything when he was absent!
Paul's next letter brought news that made the blood stand still in the heart of the young wife. He was to leave that part of the country for years, perhaps forever. Whether they ever met again depended on herself. When she was ready to give up her religion she might write to him to a certain address and it would be forwarded, otherwise he wanted to hear nothing from her. She need not try to seek him out, neither should she have any word from him. It may have been that Paul came to this cruel decision more easily from just having received news that Juana's old aunt had died, and had willed the bulk of the estate to the church, leaving her niece but a small sum on account of her apostasy from the faith. It was all this elegant young man could do to maintain himself, with his refined and luxurious tastes. How, then, could he be burdened with a portionless wife? He had not planned in that way.
For weeks after this blow Juana lingered between life and death. As strength returned she prayed to die. She said over and over in her anguish, "I can never, never live without him."