"But if it were possible, if she were still living, are you fit to seek
her, to even make yourself known to her, to appear before her?"

"Well, if I made it profitable to her, perhaps."

"Perhaps," echoed the priest, scornfully. "So be it. But why come here?"

"To ask your advice. To know how to begin my search. You know this
country. You were here when that boat drifted ashore beyond that
mountain."

"Ah, indeed. I have much to do with it. It is an affair of the
alcalde--the authorities--of your--your police."

"Is it?"

The Padre again met the stranger's eyes. He stopped, with the snuff box
he had somewhat ostentatiously drawn from his pocket still open in his
hand.

"Why is it not, Senor?" he demanded.

"If she lives, she is a young lady by this time, and might not want the
details of her life known to any one."

"And how will you recognize your baby in this young lady?" asked Father
Pedro, with a rapid gesture, indicating the comparative heights of a
baby and an adult.

"I reckon I'll know her, and her clothes too; and whoever found her