"Adios!" And they parted.

Father Mazzolin drew forth the letter, and read it attentively for
the third time, then held it over one of the twelve candles, and
deliberately burnt it, muttering the while, "Ashes tell no tales."

Extinguishing the candles and locking the door of the church, he said
to himself:

"All is as I foresaw; a breach is made which can only be closed by
the bodies of hundreds of these cursed heretics; and Santa Anna is
bloodthirsty enough to drain the last drop. Alphonso Mazzolin, canst
thou not carve thy fortune in the coming storm? Yea, and I will. I am
no unworthy follower of Loyola, of Gavier, and of Bobadillo. Patience!
a Cardinal's cap shall crown my labors;" and with a chuckling laugh he
entered the narrow street which led to his dwelling.

"There is but one obstacle here," he continued; "that Protestant
girl's work is hard to undo," and his step became quicker. "But for
her, I should have been confessor to the whole family, and will be
yet, despite her warning efforts, though I had rather deal with any
three men. She is as untiring as myself." He reached his door, and
entered.




CHAPTER VI.