ped down into the keel and sat
with her head propped against Jose's knees.

"Padre dear," she said, looking up at him with twinkling eyes, "I
heard Lazaro say a little while before we started that he had lived
many years in Simiti, and that it had always been very quiet until you
came."

"_Ay de mi!_" sighed Jose. "I can readily believe that the whole world
was quiet until I entered it."

"But, Padre, perhaps you had to come into it to shake it up."

He laughed. "_Chiquita_," he said, "if ever you go out into it, with
your radical views regarding God and man; and if the stupid old world
will give ear to you, there will be such a shaking up as it has never
experienced since--"

"Padre dear," she interrupted, "I am not going out into the world. I
shall stay in Simiti--with you."

He looked down at her, tenderly, wistfully. And then, while her words
still echoed through his mind, a great sigh escaped him.

Dusk had closed in upon them when the canoe emerged into the quiet
lake. Huge vampire bats, like demons incarnate, flouted their faces as
they paddled swiftly toward the distant town. Soft evening calls
drifted across the placid waters from the slumbering jungle. Carmen's
rich voice mingled with them; and Juan and Lazaro, catching the
inspiration, broke into a weird, uncanny boating song, such as is
heard only among these simple folk. As they neared the town the song
of the _bogas_ changed into a series of loud, yodelling halloos; and
when the canoe grated upon the shaly beach, Dona Maria and a score of
others were there to welcome the returned travelers.

At the sight of Ana, a murmur ran through the crowd. Dona Maria turned
to the woman.

"It is Anita, madre dear," Carmen quickly announced, as she struggled
out of Dona Maria's arms and took the confused Ana by the hand.

The light of recognition came into Dona Maria's eyes. Quietly, and
without demonstration, she went to the shrinking woman and, taking the
tear-stained face in her hands, impressed a kiss upon each cheek.
"_Bien_," she said in a low, tender voice, "we have waited long for
you, daughter. And now let us go home."

* * * * *

The glow of dawn had scarce begun to creep timidly across the arch of
heaven when Fernando knocked at the portal of Rosendo's house and
demanded the custody of Carmen. Jose was already abroad.

"And now, Fernando," demanded the priest, "what new outrage is this?"

The constab