stand why Rosendo went into
the Guamoco country--but you can trust me to say nothing about it.
Only, Padre, if he should find the mine he will have trouble enough
to hold it. But I can help you both. You know the denouncement
papers must go through my hands, and I send them to Cartagena for
registration."

He sat back in his chair with a knowing look.

"There is only one man here to be afraid of," he resumed; "and that is
Don Felipe Alcozer; although he may never return to Simiti." He
reflected a few moments. Then:

"Now, Padre, let us have some understanding about interests in the
mine, should Rosendo find it. The mine will be useless to us unless we
work it, for there is no one to buy it from us. To work it, we must
have a stamp-mill, or _arrastras_. The Antioquanians are skilled in
the making of wooden stamp-mills; but one would cost perhaps two
thousand _pesos oro_. Nobody here can furnish so much money but Don
Felipe. I will arrange with him for a suitable interest. And I will
fix all the papers so that the title will be held by us three. Rosendo
is only a _peon_. You can pay him for his trouble, and he need not
have an interest."

Jose breathed easier while this recital was in progress. So Don Mario
believed Rosendo to have gone in search of the lost mine, La Libertad!
Good; for Cartagena would soon get the report, and his own tenure of
the parish would be rendered doubly sure thereby. The monthly greasing
of Wenceslas' palm with what Rosendo might extract from the Guamoco
sands, coupled with the belief that Jose was maintaining a man in the
field in search of Don Ignacio's lost mine, rendered Cartagena's
interference a very remote contingency. He almost laughed as he
replied:

"Rosendo will doubtless prospect for some months, Don Mario, and I am
sure we shall have plenty of time to discuss any arrangement of
interests later, should occasion arise. But this is the Sabbath day.
So let us not talk business any further."

When the afternoon heat began to wane, Jose left the Alcalde and
returned to his cottage. Since the service of the morning he had been
fighting a constantly deepening sense of depression. An awful
loneliness now gripped his heart, and dank gloom was again sweeping
through the corridors of his soul. God, what a sacrifice, to remain
buried in that dismal town! His continuance in the priesthood of an
abjured faith was violative of every principle of honesty! The time
would come when the mask o