made a curt and
peremptory demand upon Jose for the child. The letter from Wenceslas
was noncommittal, stating only that he was quite uninformed of Diego's
claim, but that an investigation should be made. Jose wondered if he
had blundered in laying the case before him.

_"Hombre!"_ ejaculated Rosendo, when he heard Jose's story. "It is as
I feared! And now the Bishop has the matter in hand! _Caramba!_ We
shall lose her yet!

"And, Padre," he added, "the deposit is played out. There is no more
gold there. And, now that we shall have none to send to the Bishop
each month, Carmen's fate is settled--unless we go away. And where
shall we go? We could not get out of the country." He hung his head
and sat in gloomy dejection.

For more than a year Rosendo had panned the isolated alluvial deposit,
and on his regular monthly returns to Simiti he and the priest had
sent from thirty to ninety _pesos_ gold to Wenceslas. To this Jose
sometimes added small amounts collected from the people of Simiti,
which they had gratuitously given him for Masses and for the support
of the parish. Wenceslas, knowing the feeble strength of the parish,
was surprised, but discreet; and though he continually urged Jose to
greater efforts, and held out the allurements of "indulgences and
special dispensations," he made no inquiries regarding the source of
the monthly contributions.

For many days following, Rosendo and the priest went about as in a
thick, black cloud. "Rosendo," said Jose at length, "go back to the
mountains and search again. God was with us before. Have we any reason
to doubt Him now?"

"And leave Carmen here, exposed to the danger that always hangs over
her? _Caramba_, no! I would not go back now even if the deposit were
not worked out! No!" Jose knew it would be futile to urge him.

Carmen came to the priest that same day. "Padre, I heard you and padre
Rosendo talking this morning. Have you no money, no gold?"

"Why, child--there seems to be a need just at present," he replied
lightly. "But we might--well, we might send another of your questions
to God. What say you?"

"Of course!" she cried delightedly, turning at once and hurrying away
for pencil and paper.

"Now," she panted, seating herself at the table. "Let us see; we want
Him to give us _pesos_, don't we?"

"Yes--many--a large sum. Make it big," he said facetiously.

"Well, you know, Padre dear," she replied seriously, "we can't ask for
too much--for we already