xed upon him under
drawn brows.

"He suspects me," thought Roldan, and then once more demonstrated that
several of his talents were diplomatic. He glanced past the Indian
indifferently to the women, then to the priests, and from there to the
paintings and altar, his regard but that of the curious traveller.

When Roldan left the church he encountered Adan, who evidently had
entered last and knelt near the door.

"Where did you go last night?" Adan demanded loudly.

"I sat up talking to the priests and roaming about the square," replied
Roldan. Anastacio was almost at his elbow.

"Well, I had had sleep enough by twelve o'clock and I went into your
cell, and then spent the rest of the night waiting for you to come
back."

"I hope breakfast is ready. Come."

They went to the refectory, where Padre Flores embraced Roldan
heartily, but made no allusion to his watch; there were Indian servants
present. After breakfast the two boys walked up and down the middle of
the square, and Roldan related his experience of the night. Adan
listened with open mouth and shortened breath.

"Caramba!" he ejaculated. "Is there to be a fight?"

"I am sure of it. Are you frightened?"

"Not I. I'd rather fight Indians than ford a river. But do you think we
can hold out?"

"We can try. And if they don't make the attack to-night, we shall have
the better chance, because the reinforcement will arrive to-morrow. But
that Anastacio suspects me, and doubtless he has discovered in some way
that the messenger has gone. I am sure there will be trouble to-night,
and I am going now to get a good sleep. Do you sleep, too; and see that
you eat no dulces for supper, lest they make you heavy."

He awoke about four in the afternoon. There was a babel of voices in
the plaza, and he sprang out of bed, excited with the thought that war
had begun. But he saw only a typical Mission Sabbath afternoon. Several
hundred Indians were seated on the ground in groups of two or three,
gambling furiously. Through the open gates opposite, Roldan could see a
spirited horse-race, a crowd of Indians betting at the top of their
voices.

Roldan went to the kitchen and asked for a cold luncheon, then sought
Padre Flores. The priest was in his cell, and as he saw Roldan he
motioned to him to close the door.

"I can learn nothing, my son," he said; "but something in the air tells
me that there will be trouble to-night. Will you watch again?"

"I will, my father."