cabin, he had returned for one of those midnight conferences with
Gallito over which they loved to linger, and the Spaniard had again
expressed his satisfaction in Pearl's changed demeanor.

José's laughter pealed to the roof. "You have eyes but for mines and
cards, Gallito. Though the world changes under your nose, you do not see
it. The moles of the earth--they are funny!"

"Bah!" casting at him a scornful glance from under his beetling brows,
"your eyes see so far, José, that you see all manner of things which do
not exist."

"I have far sight and near sight and the sight which comes to the
seventh child," returned José with pride. "Therefore, seeing what I see,
I say my prayers each day, now."

A bleak smile wrinkled Gallito's parchment-like cheeks. "And to whom do
you pray, José, your patron saint, or rather sinner, the Devil?"

José looked shocked. "You are a blasphemer, Gallito," he reproved, and
then added piously, "I say my prayers each day that I may, by example,
help Saint Harry."

"And why is Harry in need of your example?" said Gallito, holding up his
glass between himself and the fire and watching the deep reflections of
ruby light in the amber liquid.

"It goes against me to see an unequal struggle," sighed José. "He is
hanging on desperately to his ice-peak, but the Devil has almost
succeeded in clawing him off."