up in that great country above us the
people do not know God as you and I are learning to know Him. Padre--I
want to go and tell them about Him! I've wanted to for a long, long
time."

The girl's eyes shone with a holy light. Her wistful face glowed with
a love divine.

"Padre dear, you have so often said that I had a message for the
world. Do not the people up north need that message? Would you keep
me here then? The people of Simiti are too dull to hear the message
now. But up there--Oh, Padre, it may be right that I should go!
And, if it is right, nothing can prevent it, for the right _will_ be
externalized! Right _will_ prevail!"

True, there was the girl's future. Such a spirit as hers could not
long be confined within the narrow verges of Simiti. He must not
oppose his egoism to her interests. And, besides, he might follow
soon. Perhaps go with her! Who knew? it might be the opening of the
way to the consummation of that heart-longing for--

Ah, the desperate joy that surged through his yearning soul at the
thought! The girl was fifteen. A year, two, three, and he would still
be a young man! She loved him--never had man had such proofs as he of
an affection so divine! And he worshiped her! Why hesitate longer?
Surely the way was unfolding!

"Carmen," he said tenderly, drawing her closer to him, "you may be
right. Yes--we will both go with the Americans. Once out of this
environment and free from ecclesiastical chains, I shall do better."

The girl looked up at him with brimming eyes. "Padre dear," she
whispered, "I want to go--away from Simiti. Juan--he asks me almost
every day to marry him. And he becomes angry when I refuse. Even in
the church, when Don Mario was trying to get us, Juan said he would
save me if I would promise to marry him. He said he would go to
Cartagena and kill the Bishop. He follows me like a shadow. He--Padre,
he is a good boy. I love him. But--I do not--want to marry him."

They sat silent for some moments. Jose knew how insistent Juan had
become. The lad adored the girl. He tormented the priest about her.

"Padre, you--you are not always going to be a priest--are you?
And--I--I--oh, Padre dear, I love you so!" She turned impulsively and
threw both arms about his neck. "I want to see you work out your
problem. I will help you. You can go with me--and I can always live
with you--and some day--some day--" She buried her face in his
shoulder. The artless girl had never seemed to thi