'longed to might want t' keep it
for theirselves! Yes, just kick me, please. Just kick me for a forlorn,
mis'rable, blasted fool!"

I was not disposed to laugh at Young's words; rather was I disposed to
weep over them. For they brought freshly and strongly to my mind the
fact that I was responsible for alluring him, by the hope of acquiring
great riches quickly, into this accursed valley, where in a little while
he would be most barbarously done to death. And I knew too that I was
responsible for the like fate that must overtake Rayburn, and that in
regard to Pablo my guilt was greatest of all. It was a comfort to me,
truly, that not one of these ever by look or word reproached me for thus
so wofully misleading them; and yet, in a certain way, their very
forbearance but added to my pain.

Therefore was I a little gladdened, when we returned again to the
others, to find that Fray Antonio was speaking to Rayburn, with a grave,
calm hopefulness, of those spiritual realities which are higher and
better than material realities, and without steadfast trust in which,
most of us, in the course of this sorrowful thing that we call life,
assuredly would go mad in sheer despair. And listening to this
comforting discourse, which was not checked by our return, did much to
strengthen me to bear my heavy load of vain regret. Presently Fray
Antonio shifted his ground--for he had the wisdom to speak but shortly
on these grave topics, yet using always pregnant words which sank down
into men's hearts and germinated there--and told us of what had befallen
him since he had stolen away from us that night in Huitzilan.

In truth, he had but little to tell, for his adventures had been of a
very simple kind. Upon his arrival in the canoe at the water-gate he
had been at once recognized and admitted, and had been carried directly
to the building in which, on our first coming into the city, we all had
been confined. And there he had been imprisoned until he was led up to
the temple to take part in the triumph that El Sabio's violence so
seriously had marred, and so once more was in our company. Of the Priest
Captain he had seen nothing at all; nor had any answer come back to him
from that dignitary to his urgent plea that, inasmuch as he had thus
surrendered himself, his companions--that is, ourselves--should be
suffered to leave the valley in peace; which silence on the part of the
Priest Captain was not surprising, however, in view of the bra