. But, come, Rosendo, do you and
Dona Maria prepare for flight!"

"Maria and I? The States! Na, Padre, it is impossible! I will go with
the _Americanos_ up the Boque and to La Libertad. Then I will return
to Simiti--or to the _hacienda_ of Don Nicolas, if Maria wishes to
remain there while I am in the hills. But--do you go, Padre--go and
look after the girl. There is nothing further for you here. Yes,
Padre, go--go!"

"But--ah, Rosendo, you will reconsider? The Americans will take us all
for that mine!"

"I? No, Padre," said the old man firmly, but in a voice heavy with
sadness. "Maria and I remain in Simiti. My work is done when I have
seen the girl safely out of this unhappy country. I could not live in
the States. And my days are few now, anyway. Let me end them here.
How, I care not."

Carmen came bounding in and flew into Rosendo's arms. "Padre Rosendo!"
she cried, aglow with animation, "we are all going to the States up
north! I am going to take them my message! And I am going to school
there! Oh, padre, isn't it beautiful!"

"Ah, _chiquita_," said Rosendo cheerily, straining her to him, "I
guess we have decided to send you on ahead--a little ahead of us. Your
old padre has some business he must attend to here before he leaves."
His eyes grew moist. Jose knew what his effort at cheerfulness was
costing him.

"But, padre Rosendo, you will come--later? You promise? You must!" She
looked into his eyes, pleading wistfully.

"Yes, little one, yes--of course. For where you are, there your old
padre will always be--always--always!"

"And Padre Jose?" panted the girl under Rosendo's tight grasp as she
turned her head toward the priest.

"He goes with us," assured Rosendo--"I think--at least as far as the
coast. He will see Anita--and--" His voice broke, and he turned
abruptly away.

"And she will go to the States with us! Oh, padre!" cried the girl,
bounding up and down with joy.

Jose turned and went quickly into his own house. With grim determination
he drew the battered haircloth trunk from beneath his bed and began
to throw his few effects into it.

But he had scarce begun when Juan, now bearing the proud title of
official courier between Simiti and Bodega Central, entered with a
letter. Jose recognized the writing, and tore it open at once. It was
from his mother.

"My beloved son, at last, after these many years of most rigid
economy, even of privation, I have saved enough from my meager income,