with her
lover, and Manuela has gone to warn them!"

The good priest hummed on, plaiting and replaiting his fingers and
pursing his lips.

"As I was saying, 'tis no use marrying a woman without money. That is
the _olla_ without bacon. But for pleasure to himself, neither should a
man marry without love. 'Tis a lying proverb which sayeth that all
women are alike in the dark. A fair maid is surely worth a farthing
candle to kiss her by. Not that I know aught about the matter, being a
clerk and a man of years and bodily substance. But a wise man learns
many things in spite of himself. What is the use of being a priest and
not knowing? But believe me, if money be the bacon and beef, love is the
seasoning of the dish, the _pimientos_ and Ronda pippins of a wise man's
_olla_!"

Through this sacerdotal meditation the hissing whisper lifted itself
again. Ramon had not moved. His great hand lay along the stone
balustrade. A mosquito was gorging himself at a vein upon the hairy
wrist.

"There is a broken bar on the lower window, Ramon the fool! They are
kissing each other thereat and calling sweet names--these two, the
cousin whom she loves--Rafael, the pretty boy, and little Dolores whom
you have made your wife----"

"God's blood, for this I will have your life!" cried Ramon so suddenly
that the worthy priest tumbled backward before he had even time to cross
himself. And Ramon was over the parapet with his long knife bare in his
hand. It had gone ill with the traitor if Ramon Garcia had caught him
then.

But even as he had arisen, exhaled from the undergrowth like an evil
breath, so he vanished into the night, blown away by Ramon's rush over
the edge of the balcony like a fly escaping before a man's hand.

"I will follow the liar to the world's end!" said Ramon between his
teeth, furiously, and he threshed through the tangle as an elephant
charges through young jungle.

But even as he went the words of the viper fermented in his brain till
he went mad.

"There _is_ a broken bar--what more likely! The house is old--my
father's father's. There was a tale of my grandfather's sister--avenged
truly, but still a tale told in whispers in the twilight. God's truth,
could it be even thus with Dolores, little Dolores, whom I have held
next in honour and purity to Mary the mother of God?"

So he meditated, dashing this way and that to find his enemy.

"Ah, fool! Three times fool to trust a woman! How true the proverb, 'Who