h; yet they would not have you
practice anything else. The human mind that calls itself a Christian
is a funny thing, isn't it?"

He laughed lightly; then lapsed into silence. The sea breeze rose and
sighed among the great, incrusted arches. The restless waves moaned in
their eternal assault upon the defiant walls. The moon clouded, and a
warm rain began to fall. Jose rose. "I must return to the dormitory,"
he announced briefly. "When you pass me in the _plaza_ to-morrow
evening, come at once to this place. I will meet you here. You have--I
must--"

But he did not finish. Pressing the explorer's hand, he turned
abruptly and hurried up the dim, narrow street.

CHAPTER 14

All through the following day the priest mused over the conversation
of the preceding night. The precipitation with which this new
friendship had been formed, and the subsequent abrupt exchange of
confidences, had scarcely impressed him as unusual. He was wholly
absorbed by the radical thought which the man had voiced. He mulled
over it in his wakeful hours that night. He could not prevent it from
coloring the lecture which he delivered to his class in ancient
history that day. And when the sun at length dropped behind La Popa,
he hurried eagerly to the _plaza_. A few minutes later he and the
ex-clergyman met in the appointed rendezvous.

"I dropped in to have a look at the remains of Pedro Claver to-day,"
his new friend remarked. "The old sexton scraped and bowed with huge
joy as he led me behind the altar and lighted up the grewsome thing. I
suppose he believed that Pedro's soul was up in the clouds making
intercession with the Lord for him, while he, poor devil, was toting
tourists around to gaze at the Saint's ghastly bones in their glass
coffin. The thing would be funny were it not for its sad side, namely,
the dense and superstitious ignorance in which such as this poor
sexton are held all their lives by your Church. It's a shame to feed
them with the bones of dead Saints, instead of with the bread of life!
But," he reflected, "I was myself just as bigoted at one time. And my
zeal to convert the world to Protestantism was just as hot as any that
ever animated the missionaries of your faith."

He paused and looked quizzically at Jose. He seemed to be studying the
length to which he could go in his criticism of the ancient faith of
the house of Rincon. But Jose remained in expectant silence.

"Speaking of missionaries," the man resu