the _corregidor_, his
patron.

"They tell me, my son, that I am to perform the last offices of religion
for the dying," said Padre Diogo.

"For me, Padre, for me!" exclaimed the _corregidor_ in a voice of agony.
"Alas! it is cruel mockery. They have murdered my wife and children,
my guests and servants--all, all are dead! and now they will murder me."

"I will plead for you; I will try to save your life," said the padre.
"But they cannot have been so cruel--they cannot have murdered those
innocents!"

"Alas! I speak true. Before my eyes they slew all I love on earth, and
they only preserved me to make me endure longer suffering," said the
wretched man.

"You are delaying to perform your duty," cried a voice from among the
crowd of Indians.

"Mercy, mercy, for him, my children!" ejaculated the padre.

"He showed us none," answered a hundred voices in return. "Proceed,
proceed, or he must die without shrift."

The padre felt there was no hope; but he attempted to make another
appeal. He was answered in the same strain.

"My son, you must prepare your soul for another world," he whispered
into the ear of the _corregidor_.

The unhappy man saw that indeed there was no hope for him, but still he
clung to life. He dared not die. At that moment all his deeds of
cruelty, all his tyranny, came crowding to his memory in a light they
had never before worn. Of what use now was to him the wealth he had
thus unjustly acquired? Oh! if men would at all times and seasons
remember that they must one day die, and give an account of their deeds
on earth, would it not restrain them from committing acts of injustice
and wrong? The _corregidor_ attempted to enumerate his misdeeds. They
were too many for him to recollect.

"I have offended--I have miserably offended!" he exclaimed in his agony.

"God is full of mercy. He rejoices in pardoning the repentant sinner,"
answered the padre.

But his words brought no hope to a doubting mind. He felt that his
crimes were too great for pardon; though till that moment he had not
considered them as crimes.

The priest then proceeded to administer to him the last sacrament of the
Roman Catholic Church. He had scarcely concluded, when the Indians, who
had stood around in reverential silence, raised a loud clamour for the
instant execution of the culprit; but Padre Diogo was a brave man.

"My children," he cried, "you have already committed a great sin in
murdering the inn