knew that we loved, and we knew whom. When we reached Madre Moreno's
house, she came out and invited me to supper; there was a smile, a
disagreeable, malicious smile on her face as she spoke, and not caring
to alloy the pleasure of my afternoon with Ysidria by enduring the
Madre's company, I refused, and walked over to my house.




VI.


"Vengeance is mine and I will repay;" such was the text of Padre
Arguello's discourse that hot October day, before his little
congregation in Bolinas. The good father became as fervid as the day,
and mopped his benevolent face many times before his panting audience
was allowed to walk out in the open and catch a glimpse of the white
ocean gleaming as a mass of melted silver till it met the dull, white
horizon. A dozen fig trees before the door gave the only shade about the
place excepting where the half ruined walls of the old church sheltered
the Father's little garden. The congregation was soon dispersed, most of
them riding to their homes in the foothills, while a few, who lived in
the neighbourhood of the village, walked quietly down toward the sea,
and the bright, cultivated gardens, which were kept green by the
ever-flowing arroyo which here spread its rich alluvial deposits over
the land in the winter time.

I had ridden over the night before with all my household, and as many
from the neighbouring ranchos had joined us on the way, there was as
large a cavalcade as the little village had seen since Viscaino's pilot,