reached the mission as the light was
fading. Two small, mud buildings and a little church stood among some
ruins in an opening, and a frail old man met the party at the gate. He
took off his hat when the sailors put down the coffin, and then listened
to Kit's quiet narrative.

"This poor place is yours; it was a prosperous mission long since," he
said. "In this country, men no longer build, but plot and destroy--it is
easier than the other. Now we will put the coffin in the church and then
I will give you food."

Father Herman drew back an old leather curtain and the smell of incense
met Kit as he stood at the door while the sailors went forward with their
load. The church was nearly dark, but Kit saw it had some beauty and
there were objects that hinted at more prosperous days. At the other end,
a ruby lamp glimmered and a wax candle burned with a clear flame before a
statue of the Virgin. Kit knew whence the candle came and that Hattie
Askew had knelt on the stones, beneath it, praying that her husband might
get well. Then he looked at Father Herman, with a doubt in his mind.

The other met his glance and smiled. "The greatest of these is charity,"
he said in Latin, and resumed in fine Castilian: "He was our benefactor,
a man who kept his word, and with such a wife I think our faith was his.
It is a gracious sentiment that they should not be parted."

"In a sense," Kit said quietly, "I think they have not been parted yet.
At the last he said, with confidence, he was going to meet his wife."

"Who knows?" said Father Herman. "There is much that is dark; but one
felt that his spirit reached out after hers. Well, I knew he would come
back; I have long expected him."

He went forward and lighted more candles when the sailors put down the
coffin, and the noise their boots made jarred Kit's nerves as they came
back. The light spread, touching the bare walls and tawdry decorations
about the shrines. It was a poor little church, falling into ruin, and
the beauty its pious builders had given it was vanishing. Yet something
redeemed it from being commonplace, and Kit felt a strange emotional
stirring as his eyes rested on the dim ruby lamp and the rude black
coffin. He thought the light of love could not be quenched and knew the
tender romance that had burned in the heart of the old Buccaneer. It was
with something of an effort he turned away, and followed Father Herman
across the corral.

Two hours later, red torches fl