to the adobe, and there, the morning sun shining full upon her face, lay
my love, my Ysidria. By her side was a packet open and white pellets
scattered on the grass.

I bent and kissed the white face, and took the cold hand in mine,
praying to the Blessed Virgin to give me strength to bear this killing
trial. "Yes, Ysidria," I cried, as tears rolled down my cheeks, "we will
meet again in the morning beneath the sunlight of God's love."

My words were scarcely uttered when I noted a throb of her pulse, and
then I felt as it were a dream, the beautiful eyes of Ysidria opened and
gazed at me but did not seem to see me. I did not care then if it were a
dream; swiftly I mounted my mare, bearing the light body of my love
before me, and hurried back to the house of Madre Moreno. Near the house
I met the frightened Catalina and, the Saints be praised, behind her my
dear, old friend, Pedirpozzo, who had that morning returned. They had
read Ysidria's letter which I had left on the table. Hot coffee was
ready. The doctor took my all too light burden from me, and then for the
first time I broke down and for a week knew nothing, waking one
afternoon to find the ever faithful Catalina sitting at my bedside. Soon
I learned from Pedirpozza that Ysidria was better and would recover, not
only her normal eyesight, but also be easily cured of the craving for
the fatal pellets. It seemed that she had fainted just as she was about
to take the poison and my timely arrival had saved her life.

Ambrosia, Madre Moreno, was never seen after the night of the great
storm, and no one knew what became of her, though some years after, news
came from the Rancho Laguna de la Merced, on the San Francisco side,
that an old woman, answering to the description of the witch, had
suddenly appeared there, and was living alone in a hut in one of the