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.It will be against the wishes of the Council; but my will," continued the old man, with a gesture of imperiousness, "is the will of the Church, and the law that overrides all."He had stopped, with a strange fire in his eyes.It still continued to burn as he went on rapidly,—"You will understand the sacrifice I am making in telling you this, when you know that I could have done all that I propose without your leave or hindrance.Yes, Diego; I had but to stretch out my hand thus, and that foolish fire-brand of a heretic muchacha would have vanished from Todos Santos forever.I could have left you in your fool's paradise, and one morning you would have found her gone.I should have condoled with you, and consoled you, and you would have forgotten her as you did the other.I should not have hesitated; it is the right of the Church through all time to break through those carnal ties without heed of the suffering flesh, and I ought to have done so.This, and this alone, would have been worthy of Las Casas and Junipero Serra! But I am weak and old—I am no longer fit for His work.Far better that the ship which takes her away should bring back my successor and one more worthy Todos Santos than I."He stopped, his eyes dimmed, he buried his face in his hands."You have done right, Father Esteban," said Hurlstone, gently putting his arm round the priest's shoulders, "and I swear to you your secret is as safe as if you had never revealed it to me.Perhaps," he added, with a sigh, "I should have been happier if I had not known it—if she had passed out of my life as mysteriously as she had entered it; but you will try to accept my sacrifice as some return for yours.I shall see her no more.""But will you swear it?" said the priest eagerly."Will you swear that you will not even seek her to say farewell; for in that moment the wretched girl may shake your resolution?""I shall not see her," repeated the young man slowly."But if she asks an interview," persisted the priest, "on the pretense of having your advice?""She will not," returned Hurlstone, with a half bitter recollection of their last parting."You do not know her pride.""Perhaps," said the priest musingly."But I have YOUR word, Diego.And now let us return to the Mission, for there is much to prepare, and you shall assist me."Meantime, Hurlstone was only half right in his estimate of Miss Keene's feelings, although the result was the same.The first shock to her delicacy in his abrupt speech had been succeeded by a renewal of her uneasiness concerning his past life or history.While she would, in her unselfish attachment for him, have undoubtingly accepted any explanation he might have chosen to give her, his continued reserve and avoidance of her left full scope to her imaginings.Rejecting any hypothesis of his history except that of some unfortunate love episode, she began to think that perhaps he still loved this nameless woman.Had anything occurred to renew his affection? It was impossible, in their isolated condition, that he would hear from her.But perhaps the priest might have been a confidant of his past, and had recalled the old affection in rivalry of her? Or had she herself been unfortunate through any idle word to reopen the wound? Had there been any suggestion?—she checked herself suddenly at a thought that benumbed and chilled her!—perhaps that happy hour at the cross might have reminded him of some episode with another? That was the real significance of his rude speech.With this first taste of the poison of jealousy upon her virgin lips, she seized the cup and drank it eagerly.Ah, well—he should keep his blissful recollections of the past undisturbed by her.Perhaps he might even see—though SHE had no past—that her present life might be as disturbing to him! She recalled, with a foolish pleasure, his solitary faint sneer at the devotion of the Commander's Secretary.Why shouldn't she, hereafter, encourage that devotion as well as that sneer from this complacently beloved Mr.Hurlstone? Why should he be so assured of her past? The fair and gentle reader who may be shocked at this revelation of Eleanor Keene's character will remember that she has not been recorded as an angel in these pages—but as a very human, honest, inexperienced girl, for the first time struggling with the most diplomatic, Machiavellian, and hypocritical of all the passions.In pursuance of this new resolution, she determined to accept an invitation from Mrs.Markham to accompany her and the Commander to a reception at the Alcalde's house—the happy Secretary being of the party.Mrs.Markham, who was under promise to the Comandante not to reveal his plan for the escape of herself and Miss Keene until the arrival of the expected transport, had paid little attention to the late vagaries of her friend, and had contented herself by once saying, with a marked emphasis, that the more free they kept themselves from any entanglements with other people, the more prepared they would be for A CHANGE."Perhaps it's just as well not to be too free, even with those Jesuits over at the Mission.Your brother, you know, might not like it.""THOSE JESUITS!" repeated Miss Keene indignantly."Father Esteban, to begin with, is a Franciscan, and Mr.Hurlstone is as orthodox as you or I.""Don't be too sure of that, my dear," returned Mrs.Markham sententiously."Heaven only knows what disguises they assume.Why, Hurlstone and the priest are already as thick as two peas; and you can't make me believe they didn't know of each other before we came here.He was the first one ashore, you remember, before the mutiny; and where did he turn up?—at the Mission, of course! And have you forgotten that sleepwalking affair—all Jesuitical! Why, poor dear Markham used to say we were surrounded by ramifications of that society—everywhere.The very waiter at your hotel table might belong to the Order."The hour of the siesta was just past, and the corridor and gardens of the Alcalde's house were grouped with friends and acquaintances as the party from the Presidio entered.Mrs.Brimmer, who had apparently effected a temporary compromise with her late instincts of propriety, was still doing the honors of the Alcalde's house, and had once more assumed the Mexican dishabille, even to the slight exposure of her small feet, stockingless, in white satin slippers.The presence of the Comandante and his Secretary guaranteed the two ladies of their party a reception at least faultless in form and respect, whatever may have been the secret feelings of the hostess and her friends.The Alcalde received Mrs.Markham and Miss Keene with unruffled courtesy, and conducted them to the place of honor beside him.As Eleanor Keene, slightly flushed and beautiful in her unwonted nervous excitement, took her seat, a flutter went around the corridor, and, with the single exception of Dona Isabel, an almost imperceptible drawing together of the other ladies, in offensive alliance
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