“Most certainly. I should not like any one to know you did such things. As for Mr. Santley, he would be shocked beyond measure.”
So saying, she left the two men together. In the mean time, Baptisto had-finished his wine and risen to his feet. While his master regarded him with an approving smile, he walked over to the door, softly closed it, and returning noiselessly across the room, said in a low voice—
“There is something, senor, I did not tell you. I had dreams.”
“So you said, my Baptisto.”
“Ah yes, but not all. While I was lying there, I thought that you were the dead man, and that the senora, your widow, had married.”
“Married?”
“The English priest.”
Haldane started, and looked in amazement at the speaker.
“What the devil do you mean?”
“Ah, senor, it was only my dream; a foolish dream. You were lying in your winding-sheet, and they were kneeling at the altar—smiling, senor. I did not like to speak of it to the senora; but it was very strange.”