and cast a hasty look towards
the heavy silver ornaments on the altar. Hurlstone noticed it, and
smiled bitterly.

"Don't alarm yourself. I only sought this place for shelter."

He spoke in French--the language he had heard Padre Esteban address to
Mrs. Brimmer. But the priest's quick eye had already detected his own
mistake. He lifted his hand with a sublime gesture towards the altar,
and said,--

"You are right! Where should you seek shelter but here?"

The reply was so unexpected that Hurlstone was silent. His lips quivered
slightly.

"And if it were SANCTUARY I was seeking?" he said.

"You would first tell me why you sought it," said Padre Esteban gently.

Hurlstone looked at him irresolutely for a moment and then said, with
the hopeless desperation of a man anxious to anticipate his fate,--

"I am a passenger on the ship you boarded yesterday. I came ashore with
the intention of concealing myself somewhere here until she had sailed.
When I tell you that I am not a fugitive from justice, that I have
committed no offense against the ship or her passengers, nor have I
any intention of doing so, but that I only wish concealment from their
knowledge for twenty-four hours, you will know enough to understand that
you run no risk in giving me assistance. I can tell you no more."

"I did not see you with the other passengers, either on the ship or
ashore," said the priest. "How did you come here?"

"I swam ashore before they left. I did not know they had any idea of
landing here; I expected to be the only one, and there would have been
no need for concealment then. But I am not lucky," he added, with a
bitter laugh.

The priest glanced at his garments, which bore the traces of the sea,
but remained silent.

"Do you think I am lying?"

The old priest lifted his head with a gesture.

"Not to me--but to God!"

The young man followed the gesture, and glanced around the barbaric
church with a slight look of scorn. But the profound isolation, the
mystic seclusion, and, above all, the complete obliteration of that
world and civilization he shrank from and despised, again subdued and
overcame his rebellious spirit. He lifted his eyes to the priest.

"Nor to God," he said gravely.

"Then why withhold anything from Him here?" said the priest gently.

"I am not a Catholic--I do not believe in confession," said Hurlstone
doggedly, turning aside.

But Padre Esteban laid his large brown hand on the young man's sho