bewildered and limping Rosendo was escorted down the
main street of the town and across the _plaza_ to his home. At the
door of the house Jose turned and, holding up a hand, bade the people
quietly disperse and leave the liberated man to enjoy undisturbed the
sacred reunion with his family. With a parting shout, the people
melted quickly away, and quiet soon reigned again over the ancient
town.

"_Bien_, Padre," said Rosendo, pausing before his door to clasp anew
the priest's hand, "you have not told me what has caused this. Was it
the little Carmen--"

He stopped short. Glancing in at the door, his eyes had fallen upon
Ana. To Jose, hours seemed suddenly compressed into that tense
moment.

Slowly Rosendo entered the house and advanced to the shrinking woman.
Terror spread over her face, and she clutched her throat as the big
man stalked toward her. Then, like a flash, Carmen darted in front of
her and faced Rosendo.

"It is Anita, padre dear," she said, looking up into his set face, and
clasping his hand in both of hers. "She has come home again. Aren't we
glad!"

Rosendo seemed not to see the child. His voice came cold and harsh.
"_Bien_, outcast, is your lover with you, that I may strangle him,
too?" He choked and swallowed hard.

"Padre!" cried Carmen, putting both her hands against him. "See! Those
bad thoughts nearly strangled you! Don't let them get in! Don't!"

"_Bien_, girl!" snarled the angry man, still addressing the cowering
woman. "Did you tire of him, that you now sneak home? Or--_Caramba_!"
as Ana rose and stood before him, "you come here that your illegal
brat may be born! Not under my roof! _Santa Maria!_ Never! Take it
back to him! Take it back, I say!" he shouted, raising his clenched
fist as if to strike her.

Carmen turned swiftly and threw herself upon the woman. Looking over
her shoulder, she addressed the raging man:

"Padre Rosendo! this is not your house! It is God's! He only lets you
have it, because He is good to you! Shame on you, for daring to drive
Anita away--your own little girl!" Her voice rose shrill, and her
words cut deep into the old man's embittered heart.

"Shame on you, padre Rosendo!" quickly flowed the scorching words. "If
God were like you He would drive you from the house, too! Are you so
much better than the good Jesus that you can drive away a woman who
sins? Shame on you, padre! Are you better than the good father who was
so glad to see his prodigal son? If