rnias, that you do not know its power; you surely can never have
found it before, and how it came to be growing here is incomprehensible
to me."

The witch bent her head and looking into my face from under her
overhanging reboso, raised her finger and shook it before me saying as
she did so, "Thou art a learned senorito, Carlos Sotos, but although
Ambrosia Moreno hath never been in the college, she knows more of the
little flowers and bright leaves of this plant thou speakest of than all
the Jesuits or thy people shall ever learn. The very plant growing here
among these fallen stones is as old as thou art, Carlos Sotos, and that
almost to a year. It has ever grown on, season after season, and shall
live until its duty is performed, then let it wither when it shall no
longer be needed here. Thou must come down and see me, Carlos," she
continued in an altered voice, "for I have some new flowers which thou
shalt have; come for I am lonely and like young company, though I be a
witch as they say. Where goest thou to-day?"

"Above on the divide where I hope to find some of the Indian pinks for
my new collection."

"When doest thou return, before sundown?" asked Madre Moreno as she
prepared to go.

"Before that, surely," I answered, "I shall be back here at the ruin by
four o'clock, though I had no idea that the time had gone so fast, it is
almost noon; I must hurry or I shall have Catalina very hot waiting with
a cold supper. By the way Madre, she sent her best respects to you and
hopes that you will not bewitch any more of her poultry, for if you do,
they will be a headless lot in a short time."

Madre Moreno nodded knowingly, and closed one eye slyly as she answered,
"Thou art the cleverest senorito in these parts, but little as thou
believest in my influence with el bueno Diablo, as the old women call
him, I could disclose to thee many strange events which shall come after
this day, and from this meeting thou shall date thy future." She started
but turned and said, "My son, I have learned to love thee, yet I have a
duty beyond love; say that thou believest that my sainted father was
unjustly treated, and thy life shall be blessed."

"I cannot, Madre Moreno, I am sorry for the sad result of the case at
court, but as you know, it was only justice."

She said no more, but with a laugh, half broken by a sigh, the little
woman walked briskly under the olives and down over the brow of the
hill.

The grass and trees wer