In a few
seconds he closed his eyes, but only part way. The pupils contracted;
his forehead lowered to an expression of poignant intensity. Soon
afterward he saw the priest pause abruptly in the act of drawing the
cover over the crucifix, looking about him from side to side. He turned
again to his work, and again came to a stop, perplexed, curious. With
uncertain steps, and evidently wondering why he did so, he came to the
door of the room and opened it, looking out into the night. Vanamee,
hidden in the deep shadow of the archway, did not move, but his eyes
closed, and the intense expression deepened on his face. The priest
hesitated, moved forward a step, turned back, paused again, then came
straight across the garden patch, brusquely colliding with Vanamee,
still motionless in the recess of the archway.

Sarria gave a great start, catching his breath.

"Oh--oh, it's you. Was it you I heard calling? No, I could not have
heard--I remember now. What a strange power! I am not sure that it is
right to do this thing, Vanamee. I--I HAD to come. I do not know why.
It is a great force--a power--I don't like it. Vanamee, sometimes it
frightens me."

Vanamee put his chin in the air.

"If I had wanted to, sir, I could have made you come to me from back
there in the Quien Sabe ranch."

The priest shook his head.

"It troubles me," he said, "to think that my own will can count for so
little. Just now I could not resist. If a deep river had been between
us, I must have crossed it. Suppose I had been asleep now?" "It would
have been all the easier," answered Vanamee. "I understand as little of
these things as you. But I think if you had been asleep, your power of
resistance would have been so much the more weakened."

"Perhaps I should not have waked. Perhaps I should have come to you in
my sleep."

"Perhaps."

Sarria crossed himself. "It is occult," he hazarded. "No; I do not like
it. Dear fellow," he put his hand on Vanamee's shoulder, "don't--call
me that way again; promise. See," he held out his hand, "I am all of a
tremble. There, we won't speak of it further. Wait for me a moment. I
have only to put the cross in its place, and a fresh altar cloth, and
then I am done. To-morrow is the feast of The Holy Cross, and I am
preparing against it. The night is fine. We will smoke a cigar in the
cloister garden."

A few moments later the two passed out of the door on the other side of
the church, opposite the pulpit, Sarri