The Priest smiled; he detected the underlying incentive in Wilson's
own hazard, but there was still Stubbs and his relation to Danbury. He
suspected treachery of some sort.

Wilson grew impatient.

"Night is coming on and we ought to be on our way. I suppose you are
in authority over these people. Without your consent we cannot
proceed."

"No--but it is far from my intention to interfere with so worthy a
mission as yours. I might even assist you. I am always glad to do
anything that will help strangers to leave. Sometimes this is done in
one way and--sometimes in another. I expected this Sorez to leave by
to-morrow."

"To-morrow? Why, he can't have more than reached the lake."

"No, but strangers do not remain long by the lake."

For the last few moments the Priest had seemed more normal, but now
the uncanny, fanatical look returned to his eyes. Stubbs nudged Wilson
to rise.

The three moved towards the door.

"I shall not interfere with you--at present," said the Priest. "But--a
word of advice--work quickly. As far as the girl is concerned I think
she will be ready to return by to-morrow."

"You have seen her?"

"Not myself, but I have a thousand eyes seeing for me in these
mountains. They have seen the girl and they tell me she is well,--so
much for your comfort."

But there was a smile still about the corners of the mouth which
Wilson did not like.

The Priest shifted his eyes to the caravan itself. He made a note of
the picks and shovels.

"You have the implements," he remarked, "for grave digging. I trust
you will not need to use them. _Adios_, my friends."

He watched them until they disappeared into the woods with a sinister,
self-confident smile like a spider watching a fly take the path into
his web; a smile that gave him an expression strangely like that of
the image itself. Before he turned into the hut again he gave several
orders. Three of the brown men melted into the shadows after the
caravan.

CHAPTER XX

_In the Footsteps of Quesada_

Once out of hearing, Stubbs, who had not spoken a word, broke out.

"If there ever was a devil treading the earth, it's that man. I've
tol' Danbury so from the first. Ye can't trust that sort. My fingers
jus' itched along the butt of my weapin' all the while ye was talkin'.
Seems though a man oughter have a right to plug sech as him an' be
done with it."

"You're prejudiced, Stubbs. I'll admit the man is queer, but, after
all, he is