God were to punish you for your
sins, would He even let you live? Did He not set you free this very
morning? And do you now thank Him by driving your little girl from her
own home? Do you know that it was Anita who made you free, and who
brought me here? God used her to do that. And is this the way you
thank Him? Then you will lose us both, for we will not stay with
you!"

Jose stepped up and took Rosendo's arm. Carmen turned about and
continued her scoriation:

"Padre Rosendo, if the good, pure God was willing to use Anita to save
me from Padre Diego and bring me back to you, are you so wicked and so
ungrateful that you throw His love back in His face? Shame on you,
padre! Shame! Shame!"

"_Caramba!_" cried Rosendo, tears bursting from his eyes. "She has
fouled my name--it was a good name, though my parents were slaves--it
was a good name--and she blackened it--she--"

"Padre Rosendo, there are only two names that have never been
blackened! Your human name is nothing--it is zero--it counts for
foolishness with God! You yourself are making your name blacker now
than Anita ever did! She repents, and comes to her father; and he is
so much more wicked than she that he drives her out!--"

"Enough, Carmen, child!" interrupted Jose. "Come, Rosendo; go into the
parish house! Carmen, go with him!"

Carmen hesitated. Then a smile lighted up her face, and she reached up
and took Rosendo's hand. Together they passed silently out and into
the priest's house.

Ana sank to the floor, where she buried her face in her hands and wept
violently.

"Wait, Ana," said Jose, tenderly stroking the unhappy woman's hair.
"Wait. They will soon return. And you shall remain here, where you
belong."

A half hour passed. Then Jose, wondering, went quietly to the door of
his house and looked in. Rosendo sat at the table, with Carmen on his
knees.

"And, padre," the child was saying, "the good Jesus told the woman not
to sin any more; and she went away happy. Padre, God has told Anita
not to sin any more--and she has come to us to be happy. We are going
to make her so, aren't we? Padre Diego couldn't hurt me, you know, for
God wouldn't let him. And he hasn't hurt Anita--God wouldn't let him
keep her--wouldn't let her stay with him. Don't you see, padre? And we
have got to be like Him--we _are_ like Him, really. But now we have
got to show it, to prove it, you know."

Rosendo's head was bent over the girl. Neither of them saw Jose. The