rdity.

Rosendo dropped his head again upon his chest and lapsed into silence.
Then he rose unsteadily and passed a hand slowly across his brow. A
strange light had come into his eyes. For a moment he stood looking
fixedly at Reed. Finally he began to speak.

"Senores," he said, rolling his syllables sonorously, "the time has
come at last! For years I have waited, waited, knowing that some day
the great gift which the good God put into my hands for the little
Carmen would be needed. Senores, my parents were slaves. The cruel
Spaniards drove them to and from their heavy labors with the lash; and
when the great war ended, they sank exhausted into their graves. My
parents--I have not told you this, Padre--were the slaves of Don
Ignacio de Rincon!"

An exclamation burst from the astonished priest's lips. What, then,
had this man been concealing all these years? Little wonder that he
had hesitated when he learned that a Rincon had come to the parish of
Simiti!

The old man quickly resumed. As he continued, his recital became
dramatic. As they listened, his auditors sat spellbound.

"Don Ignacio de Rincon himself was kind of heart. But his overseers--ah,
_Dios arriba_! they were cruel! cruel! Many a time the great lash wound
itself about my poor father's shrinking body, and hurled him shrieking to
the ground--and why? Because his blistered hands could not hold the
_batea_ with which he washed gold for your grandfather, Padre, your
grandfather!"

Jose's head sank upon his breast. A groan escaped him, and tears
trickled slowly down his sunken cheeks.

"I bear you no malice, Padre," continued Rosendo. "It was hard those
first days to accept you here. But when, during your fever, I
learned from your own lips what you had suffered, I knew that you
needed a friend, and I took you to my bosom. And now I am glad--ah,
very glad, that I did so. But, though my confidence in you increased
day by day, I could never bring myself to tell you my great
secret--the secret that now I reveal for the sake of the little
Carmen. Padre--senores--I--_I am the owner of the great mine, La
Libertad_!"

Had the heavens collapsed the astonishment of Don Jorge and the priest
could not have been greater. The coming of the soldiers, the terrific
strain of the past few days, culminating in the loss of Ana--all was
for the moment obliterated.

Jose started up and tried to speak. But the words would not come.
Rosendo paused a moment for the effect