a hold of her that at length her mind, bewildered
with its own tumult, lost its grip of present realities, and sought
refuge in dreams which he could not disentangle. No wonder, then, that
Leonard failed to guess her thoughts, as she watched him go from the
death-bed.

Mr. Rodd died peacefully that evening, and on the following afternoon
they buried him, Francisco performing the service. Three more days
passed before Leonard had any conversation with Juanna, who moved about
the place, pale, self-contained, and silent. Nor would he have spoken to
her then had she not taken the initiative.

"Mr. Outram," she said, "when do you propose to start upon this
journey?"

"Really, I do not know. I am not sure that I shall start at all. It
depends upon you. You see I am responsible for you now, and I can
scarcely reconcile it with my conscience to take on you such a
wild-goose chase."

"Please do not talk like that," she answered. "If it will simplify
matters I may as well tell you at once that I have made up my mind to
go."

"You cannot unless I go too," he answered smiling.

"You are wrong there," Juanna replied defiantly. "I can, and what is
more, I will, and Soa shall guide me. It is you who cannot go without
me--that is, if Soa tells the truth.

"For good or evil we are yoked together in this matter, Mr. Outram, so
it is useless for us to try to pull different ways. Before he died, my
dear father told you his views plainly, and even if there were no other
considerations involved, such as that of the agreement--for, whatever
you may think to the contrary, woman have some sense of honour, Mr.
Outram--I would not disregard his wishes. Besides, what else are we to
do? We are both adventurers now, and both penniless, or pretty
nearly so. Perhaps if we succeed in finding this treasure, and it is
sufficiently large, you will be generous and give me a share of it, say
five per cent., on which to support my declining years," and she turned
and left him.

"Beginning to show temper again," said Leonard to himself. "I will ask
Francisco what he thinks of it."

Of late, things had gone a little better between Leonard and the priest.
Not that the former had as yet any complete confidence in the latter.
Still, he understood now that Francisco was a man of honest mind and
gentle instincts, and naturally in this dilemma he turned to seek for
counsel to his only white companion. Francisco listened to the story
quietly; indeed, for