ice that awoke the slumbering priest. The child
stood at his side, and her little hand clasped his. Rosendo slept.
His chest rose and fell with the rhythmic breathing. Jose looked down
upon him. A great lump came into his throat, and his voice trembled as
he spoke.

"You are right, _chiquita_. Go, call your madre Maria now, and I will
go home to rest."

CHAPTER 13

That day Rosendo left his bed. Two days later he again set out for
Guamoco.

"There _is_ gold there, and I must, I _will_ find it!" he repeatedly
exclaimed as he pushed his preparations.

The courage of the man was magnificent. On its rebound it carried him
over the protest of Dona Maria and the gloomy forebodings of his
fellow-townsmen, and launched him again on the desolate trail.

But Jose had uttered no protest. He moved about wrapped in undefinable
awe. For he believed he had seen Rosendo lifted from the bed of death.
And no one might tell him that it was not by the same power that long
ago had raised the dead man of Nain. Carmen had not spoken of the
incident again; and something laid a restraint upon Jose's lips.

The eyes of the Alcalde bulged with astonishment when Rosendo entered
his store that morning in quest of further supplies.

"_Caramba!_ Go back to your bed, _compadre_!" he exclaimed, bounding
from his chair. "You are walking in your delirium!"

"_Na, amigo_," replied Rosendo with a smile, "the fever has left me.
And now I must have another month's supplies, for I go back to Guamoco
as soon as my legs tremble less."

_"Caramba! caramba!"_

The Alcalde acted as if he were in the presence of a ghost. But at
length becoming convinced that Rosendo was there on matters of
business, and in his right mind, he checked further expression of
wonder and, with a shrug of his fat shoulders, assumed his wonted air
of a man of large affairs.

"I can allow you five _pesos oro_ on account of the gold which the
_Cura_ brought me yesterday," he said severely. "But that leaves you
still owing ten _pesos_ for your first supplies; and thirty if I give
you what you ask for now. If you cannot pay this amount when you
return, you will have to work it out for me."

His little eyes grew steely and cold. Rosendo well knew what the
threat implied. But he did not falter.

"_Bien, compadre_," he quietly replied, "it will be as you say."

Late that afternoon Juan returned from Bodega Central with a half
ounce of quinine. He had made the trip with