"Good!" he commented. "Discretion is the one quality in which I thought you lacking. I now feel justified in returning to you an article which I have reason to believe is your property."
"An article—my property?" I repeated, not a little puzzled.
He smiled, and, unobserved by the attendants, handed me my lady's handkerchief. I gazed at it, first astounded, then dismayed. It was all too clear that my message had been intercepted, probably by Don Pedro, and intrusted to this priest, to be returned as a courteous hint that my suit for the niece's hand was not acceptable. But as, greatly downcast, I thrust the handkerchief into my bosom, the padre raised his brows, and spoke in evident surprise: "You do not appear pleased, señor doctor. From what she said, I was led to infer—"
"What she said?" I broke in. "She? You mean—"
"A certain señorita who voyaged down a long river in company with her uncle and a certain gallant young heretic," he answered over his glass.
"She—my Alisanda! Then it is from her you bring the kerchief! You are our friend!"
"I am her confessor, and, I trust, her best friend," he replied. "As for yourself, God grant I may also become your friend and confessor."
"Friend—yes!" I assented eagerly.
"And confessor!" he urged. "Remember, you are now in the Kingdom of New Spain. It is in point to remark that a heretic was burned at the city of Mexico within the last three years."
My head sank forward in gloomy meditation. I had crossed the Barrier, it is true; but now I saw yawning before me the abyss of the Gulf.