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begun to show his years。 At Santa Ysabel del Mar they whispered； 〃The
Padre is not well。〃 Yet he rode a great deal over the hills by himself； and
down the canyon very often； stopping where he had sat with Gaston； to sit
alone and look up and down； now at the hills above； and now at the ocean
below。 Among his parishioners he had certain troubles to soothe； certain
wounds to heal； a home from which he was able to drive jealousy； a girl
whom he bade her lover set right。 But all said； 〃The Padre is unwell。〃 And
Felipe told them that the music seemed nothing to him any more； he never
asked for his Dixit Dominus nowadays。 Then for a short time he was
really in bed； feverish with the two voices that spoke to him without
ceasing。 〃You have given your life；〃 said one voice。 〃And； therefore；〃 said
the other； 〃have earned the right to go home and die。〃 〃You are winning
better rewards in the service of God；〃 said the first voice。 〃God can be
better served in other places；〃 answered the second。 As he lay listening he
saw Seville again； and the trees of Aranhal； where he had been born。 The
wind was blowing through them； and in their branches he could hear the
nightingales。 〃Empty！ Empty！〃 he said； aloud。 And he lay for two days
and nights hearing the wind and the nightingales in the far trees of Aranhal。
But Felipe； watching； only heard the Padre crying through the hours；
〃Empty！ Empty！〃
Then the wind in the trees died down； and the Padre could get out of
bed； and soon be in the garden。 But the voices within him still talked all
the while as he sat watching the sails when they passed between the
headlands。 Their words； falling for ever the same way； beat his spirit sore；
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like blows upon flesh already bruised。 If he could only change what they
said； he would rest。
〃Has the Padre any mall for Santa Barbara？〃 asked Felipe。 〃The ship
bound southward should be here to…morrow。〃
〃I will attend to it；〃 said the priest； not moving。 And Felipe stole away。
At Felipe's words the voices had stopped； as a clock finishes striking。
Silence； strained like expectation； filled the Padre's soul。 But in place of
the voices came old sights of home again； the waving trees at Aranhal；
then it would be Rachel for a moment； declaiming tragedy while a
houseful of faces that he knew by name watched her； and through all the
panorama rang the pleasant laugh of Gaston。 For a while in the evening
the Padre sat at his Erard playing Trovatore。 Later； in his sleepless bed he
lay； saying now and then： 〃To die at home！ Surely I may be granted at
least this。〃 And he listened for the inner voices。 But they were not
speaking any more； and the black hole of silence grew more dreadful to
him than their arguments。 Then the dawn came in at his window； and he
lay watching its gray grow warm into color； until suddenly he sprang from
his bed and looked at the sea。 Blue it lay； sapphire…hued and dancing with
points of gold； lovely and luring as a charm； and over its triangle the
south…bound ship was approaching。 People were on board who in a few
weeks would be sailing the Atlantic； while he would stand here looking
out of this same window。 〃Merciful God！〃 he cried； sinking on his knees。
〃Heavenly Father； Thou seest this evil in my heart！ Thou knowest that my
weak hand cannot pluck it out！ My strength is breaking； and still Thou
makest my burden heavier than I can bear。〃 He stopped； breathless and
trembling。 The same visions was flitting across his closed eyes； the same
silence gaped like a dry crater in his soul。 〃There is no help in earth or
heaven；〃 he said； very quietly； and he dressed himself。
VIIt was still so early that few of the Indians were stirring； and one of
these saddled the Padre's mule。 Felipe was not yet awake； and for a
moment it came in the priest's mind to open the boy's door softly； look at
him once more； and come away。 But this he did not； nor even take a
farewell glance at the church and organ。 He bade nothing farewell； but；
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turning his back upon his room and his garden； rode down the canyon。
The vessel lay at anchor； and some one had landed from ha and was
talking with other men on the shore。 Seeing the priest slowly coming； this
stranger approached to meet him。
〃You are connected with the mission here？〃 he inquired。
〃Iam。〃
〃Perhaps it is with you that Gaston Villere stopped？〃
〃The young man from New Orleans？ Yes。 I am Padre Ignacio。〃
〃Then you'll save me a journey。 I promised him to deliver these into
your own hands。〃
The stranger gave them to him。
〃A bag of gold…dust；〃 he explained； 〃and a letter。 I wrote it at his
dictation while he was dying。 He lived hardly an hour afterward。〃
The stranger bowed his head at the stricken cry which his news
elicited from the priest； who； after a few moments' vain effort to speak；
opened the letter and read：
My dear Friend；It is through no man's fault but mine that I have
come to this。 I have had plenty of luck； and lately have been counting the
days until I should return home。 But last night heavy news from New
Orleans reached me； and I tore the pressed flower to pieces。 Under the first
smart and humiliation of broken faith I was rendered desperate； and picked
a needless quarrel。 Thank God； it is I who have the punishment。 By dear
friend； as I lie here； leaving a world that no man ever loved more； I have
come to understand you。 For you and your mission have been much in my
thoughts。 It is strange how good can be done； not at the time when it is
intended； but afterward； and you have done this good to me。 I say over
your words； 〃Contentment with Renunciation；〃 and believe that at this last
hour I have gained something like what you would wish me to feel。 For I
do not think that I desire it otherwise now。 My life would never have been
of service； I am afraid。 You am the last person in this world who has
spoken serious words to me； and I want you to know that now at length I
value the peace of Santa Ysabel as I could never have done but for seeing
your wisdom and goodness。 You spoke of a new organ for your church。
Take the gold…dust that will reach you with this； and do what you will with
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it。 Let me at least in dying have helped some one。 And since them is no
aristocracy in soulsyou said that to me； do you remember？ perhaps you
will say a mass for this departing soul of mine。 I only wish； must my body
must go under ground in a strange country； that it might have been at
Santa Ysabel did Mar； where your feet would often pass。
〃'At Santa Ysabel del Mar； where your feet would often pass。'〃 The
priest repeated this final sentence aloud； without being aware of it。
〃Those are the last words he ever spoke；〃 said the stranger； 〃except
bidding me good…by。〃
〃You knew him well； then？〃
〃No； not until after he was hurt。 I'm the man he quarreled with。〃
The priest looked at the ship that would sail onward this afternoon。
Then a smile of great beauty passed over his face； and he addressed
the strange。 〃I thank you。 You will never know what you have done for
me。〃
〃It is nothing；〃 answered the stranger； awkwardly。 〃He told me you set
great store on a new organ。〃
Padre Ignacio turned away from the ship and rode back through the
gorge。 When he had reached the shady place where once he had sat with
Gaston Villere； he dismounted and again sat there； alone by the stream； for
many hours。 Long rides and outings had been lately so much his custom
that no one thought twice of his absence； and when he resumed to the
mission in the afternoon； the Indian took his mule； and he went to his seat
in the garden。 But it was with ano