the catalpa tree, gazing down into the San Gregorio as if he watched
for you to ride up the road. He shed no tears--at least, not in the
presence of his servants--but he was possessed of a great trembling.
At the end of the third day, I rode to the mission and informed Father
Dominic. Ah, Don Miguel, my heart was afflicted tenfold worse than
before to see that holy man weep for you. When he had wept a space, he
ordered Father Andreas to say a high mass for the repose of your soul,
while he came up to the hacienda to remind your father of the comforts
of religion. Whereat, for the first time since that vagabond Moreno
came with his evil tidings, your father smiled. 'Good Father Dominic,'
said he, 'I have need of the comfort of your presence and your
friendship, but I would not blot out with thoughts of religion the
memory of the honor that has come upon my house. God has been good to
me. To me has been given the privilege of siring a man, and I shall
not affront him with requests for further favors. To-morrow, in El
Toro, a general will pin on my breast the medal for gallantry that
belongs to my dead son. As for this trembling, it is but a palsy that
comes to many men of my age.'"

"He had a slight touch of it before I left," Don Miguel reminded Pablo.

"The following day," Pablo continued, "I assisted him to dress, and was
overjoyed to observe that the trembling had abated by half. By his
direction, I saddled Panchito with the black carved-leather saddle, and
he mounted with my aid and rode to El Toro. I followed on the black
mare. At El Toro, in the plaza, in the presence of all the people, a
great general shook your father's hand and pinned upon his breast the
medal that belongs to you. It was a proud moment for all of us. Then
we rode back to the San Gregorio. At the mission, your father
dismounted and went into the chapel to pray for your soul. For two