\"There’snobodyinthere，\"statedtheVirginian。\"Nobodythat’salive，\"
headded。Andhecrossedthecabinandwalkedintothedoor。
Thoughhemadenogesture，Isawastonishmentpassthroughhisbody，ashestoppedstill；andallofuscameafterhim。Therehungthecrucifix，witharoundholethroughthemiddleofit。Oneofthemenwenttoitandtookitdown；andbehindit，sunkinthelog，wasthebullet。Thecabinwasbutasingleroom，andeveryobjectthatitcontainedcouldbeseenataglance；norwastherehiding—roomforanything。Onthefloorlaytheaxefromthewood—pile；butIwillnottellofitsappearance。Sohehadshothercrucifix，herRockofAges，thethingwhichenabledhertobearherlife，andthatliftedherabovelife；andshe——buttherewastheaxetoshowwhatshehaddonethen。Wasthiscabinreallyempty？Ilookedmoreslowlyabout，halfdreadingtofindthatIhadoverlookedsomething。
ButitwasastheVirginianhadsaid；nobodywasthere。
Aswewerewondering，therewasanoiseaboveourheads，andIwasnottheonlyonewhostartedandstared。Itwastheparrot；andwestoodawayinacircle，lookingupathiscage。Crouchingflatonthefloorofthecage，hiswingshuddledtighttohisbody，hewasswinginghisheadfromsidetoside；andwhenhesawthatwewatchedhim，hebeganalowcroakingandmonotonousutterance，whichneverchanged，butremainedrapidandcontinuous。IheardMcLeanwhispertotheVirginian，\"Youbetheknows。\"
TheVirginiansteppedtothedoor，andthenhebenttothegravelandbeckonedustocomeandsee。Amongtherecentfootprintsatthethresholdtheman’sboot—heelwasplain，aswellasthewoman’sbroadtread。Butwhiletheman’sstepsledintothecabin，theydidnotleadawayfromit。
Wetrackedhiscoursejustaswehadseenitthroughtheglasses：upthehillfromthebrushtothewindow，andthentothedoor。Buthehadneverwalkedoutagain。Yetinthecabinhewasnot；wetoreupthehalf—floorthatithad。Therewasnousetodigintheearth。Andallthewhilethatwewereatthissearchtheparrotremainedcrouchedinthebottomofhiscage，hisblackeyefixeduponourmovements。
\"Shehascarriedhim，\"saidtheVirginian。\"WemustfollowupWillomene。\"
Thelatestheavysetoffootprintsledusfromthedooralongtheditch，wheretheysankdeepinthesoftersoil；thentheyturnedoffsharplyintothemountains。
\"Thisisthecut—offtrail，\"saidMcLeantome。\"Thesamehebroughtherinby。\"
Thetrackswereveryclear，andevidentlyhadbeenmadebyapersonmovingslowly。Whatevertheoriesourvariousmindswerenowshaping，noonespokeawordtohisneighbor，butwewentalongwithahushoverus。
Aftersomewalking，Wigginsuddenlystoppedandpointed。
Wehadcometotheedgeofthetimber，whereanarrowblackcanyonbegan，andaheadofusthetraildrewnearaslantingledge，wherethefootingwasofsmallloosestones。Irecognizedtheodor，thevolcanicwhiff，thatsooftenprowlsandmeetsoneinthelonelywoodsofthatregion，butatfirstIfailedtomakeoutwhathadsetusallrunning。
\"Ishelookingdownintotheholehimself？\"someoneasked；andthenI
didseeafigure，thefigureIhadlookedatthroughtheglasses，leaningstrangelyovertheedgeofPitchstoneCanyon，asifindeedhewaspeeringtowatchwhatmightbeinthebottom。
Wecamenear。Butthoseeyesweresightless，andintheskullthestoryoftheaxewascarved。Byapieceofhisclothinghewashookedinthetwistedrootsofadeadtree，andhungthereattheextremeverge。Iwenttolookover，andLinMcLeancaughtmeasIstaggeredatthesightIsaw。
Hewouldhavelosthisownfootholdinsavingmehadnotoneoftheothersheldhimfromabove。
Shewastherebelow；Hank’swoman，broughtfromAustriatotheNewWorld。
Thevisionofthatbrownbundlelyinginthewaterwillneverleaveme，I
think。Shehadcarriedthebodytothispoint；buthadsheintendedthisend？Orwassomepartofitanaccident？Hadshemeanttotakehimwithher？Hadshemeanttostaybehindherself？Nowordcamefromthesedeadtoanswerus。Butaswestoodspeakingthere，agiantpuffofbreathroseuptousbetweentheblackwalls。
\"There’sthatfluffysighItoldyu’about，\"saidtheVirginian。
\"He’stalkin’toher！Itellyu’he’stalkin’toher！\"burstoutMcLean，suddenly，insuchavoicethatwestaredashepointedatthemaninthetree。\"Seehimleanover！He’ssayin’，’Ihaveyu’beatafterall。’\"AndMcLeanfelltowhimpering。
Wiggintooktheboy’sarmkindlyandwalkedhimalongthetrail。Hedidnotseemtwentyyet。Lifehadnotshownthissideofitselftohimsoplainlybefore。
\"Let’sgetoutofhere，\"saidtheVirginian。
Itseemedonemorepitifulstrawthatthelonelybundleshouldbeleftinsuchavaultofdoom，withnolasttouchesofcarefromitsfellow—beings，andnoheapofkindearthtohideit。Butwhethertheplaceisdeadlyornot，mandaresnotventureintoit。SotheytookHankfromthetreethatnight，andearlynextmorningtheyburiedhimnearcamponthetopofalittlemound。
ButthethoughtofWillomenelyinginPitchstoneCanyonhadkeptsleepfrommethroughthatwholenight，nordidIwishtoattendHank’sburial。
Iroseveryearly，whilethesunshinehadstillalongwaytocomedowntousfromthemountain—tops，andIwalkedbackalongthecut—offtrail。
Iwasmovedtolookoncemoreuponthatfrightfulplace。AndasIcametotheedgeofthetimber，therewastheVirginian。Hedidnotexpectanyone。Hehadsetupthecrucifixasnearthedeadtreeasitcouldbefirmlyplanted。
\"Itbelongstoher，anyway，\"heexplained。
Somelinesofversecameintomymemory，andwithachangeortwoIwrotethemasdeepasIcouldwithmypenciluponasmallboardthathesmoothedforme。
\"Callfortherobinredbreastandthewren，Sinceo’ershadygrovestheyhover，AndwithflowersandleavesdocoverThefriendlessbodiesofunburiedmen。
CalltothisfuneraldoleTheant，thefield—mouse，andthemoleTorearherhillocksthatshallkeepherwarm。
\"Thatkindo’quaintlanguageremindsmeofaplayIseenoncedinSayntPaul，\"saidtheVirginian。\"AboutyoungPrinceHenry。\"
Itoldhimthatanotherpoetwastheauthor。
\"Theyarebothgoodwriters，\"saidtheVirginian。Andashewasfinishingthemonumentthatwehadmade，youngLinMcLeanjoinedus。Hewasalittleashamedofthefeelingsthathehadshownyesterday，alittleanxioustocoverthosefeelingswithbrass。
\"Well，\"hesaid，takinganoffish，man—of—the—worldtone，\"allthisfussjustbecauseawomanbelievedinGod。\"
\"Youhaveputitdownwrong，\"saidtheVirginian；\"it’sjustbecauseamandidn’t。\"
PadreIgnazioAtSantaYsabeldelMartheseasonwasatoneofitsmomentswhentheairhangsquietoverlandandsea。Theoldbreezeshadgone；thenewoneswerenotyetrisen。Theflowersinthemissiongardenopenedwide，fornowindcamebydayornighttoshaketheloosepetalsfromtheirstems。
Alongthebasking，silent，many—coloredshoregatheredandlingeredthecrispodorsofthemountains。Thedustfloatedgoldenandmotionlesslongaftertheriderwasbehindthehill，andthePacificlaylikeafloorofsapphire，onwhichtowalkbeyondthesettingsunintotheEast。Onewhitesailshonethere。Insteadofanhour，ithadbeenfromdawntillafternooninsightbetweentheshortheadlands；andthepadrehadhopedthatitmightbehisship。Butithadslowlypassed。Nowfromanarchinhisgardencloistershewaswatchingthelastofit。Presentlyitwasgone，andthegreatoceanlayempty。Thepadreputhisglassesinhislap。Forashortwhilehereadinhisbreviary，butsoonforgotitagain。
Helookedattheflowersandsunnyridges，thenatthehugebluetriangleofseawhichtheopeningofthehillsletintosight。\"Paradise，\"hemurmured，\"neednotholdmorebeautyandpeace。ButIthinkIwouldexchangeallmyremainingyearsofthisforonesightagainofParisorSeville。MayGodforgivemesuchathought！\"
Acrosstheunstirredfragranceofoleandersthebellforvespersbegantoring。Itstonespassedoverthepadreashewatchedtheseainhisgarden。Theyreachedhisparishionersintheiradobedwellingsnearby。
Thegentlecirclesofsoundfloatedoutwarduponthesmoothimmensesilence——overthevinesandpear—trees；downtheavenuesoftheolives；
intotheplantedfields，whencewomenandchildrenbegantoreturn；thenoutofthelapofthevalleyalongtheyellowuplands，wherethementhatrodeamongthecattlepaused，lookingdownlikebirdsatthemapoftheirhome。Thenthesoundwidened，faint，unbroken，untilitmetTemptationridingtowardsthepadrefromthesouth，andcheeredthestepsofTemptation’sjadedhorse\"Foraday，onesingledayofParis！\"repeatedthepadre，gazingthroughhiscloistersattheemptysea。
Onceintheyearthemother—worldrememberedhim。OnceintheyearabarkentinecamesailingwithnewsandtokensfromSpain。Itwasin1685
thatagalleonhadbegunsuchvoyagesuptothelowercountryfromAcapulco，wheresheloadedthecargothathadcomeacrossTehuantepeconmulesfromVeraCruz。By1768shehadaddedthenewmissionofSanDiegotoherports。Intheyearthatwe，athinstripofcolonistsawayoverontheAtlanticedgeofthecontinent，declaredourselvesanindependentnation，thatSpanishship，inthenameofSaintFrancis，wasunloadingthecenturiesofherowncivilizationattheGoldenGate。Then，slowly，asmissionaftermissionwasplantedalongthesoftcoastwilderness，shemadenewstops——atSantaBarbara，forinstance；andbyPointSanLuisforSanLuisObispo，thatlayinlandalittlewayupthegorgewhereitopenedamongthehills。Thustheworldreachedtheseplacesbywater；
whileonland，throughthemountains，aroadcametoleadtothem，andalsotomanymorethatweretoodistantbehindthehillsforshipstoserve——along，lonely，roughroad，punctuatedwithchurchtowersandgardens。Forthefathersgraduallysostationedtheirsettlementsthatthetravellermighteachmorningrideoutfromonemissionandbyeveningofaday’sfairjourneyrideintothenext。Along，roughroad；andinitswayprettytothinkofnow。
Sothere，by—and—by，wasourcontinent，withthelocomotivewhistlingfromSavannahtoBostonalongitseasternedge，andontheotherthescatteredchimesofSpainringingamongtheunpeopledmountains。Thusgrewthetwosortsofcivilization——notequally。Weknowwhathashappenedsince。To—daythelocomotiveiswhistlingalsofromtheGoldenGatetoSanDiego；buttheoldmissionroadgoesthroughthemountainsstill，andonitthestepsofvanishedSpainaremarkedwithroses，andwhitecloisters，andthecrucifix。
Butthiswas1855。Onlythebarkentinebroughttheworldthathelovedtothepadre。Asforthenewworldwhichwasmakingarudenoisetothenorthward，hetrustedthatitmightkeepawayfromSantaYsabel，andhewaitedforthevesselthatwasoverduewithitspackagecontaininghissingleworldlyindulgence。
Asthelittle，ancientbronzebellcontinueditsswinginginthetower，itsplaintivecallreachedsomethinginthepadre’smemory。Withoutknowing，hebegantosing。Hetookuptheslowstrainnotquitecorrectly，anddroppedit，andtookitupagain，alwaysincadencewiththebell：
[MusicalScoreAppearsHere]
Atlengthheheardhimself，andglancingatthebelfry，smiledalittle。
\"Itisaprettytune，\"hesaid，\"anditalwaysmademesorryforpoorFraDiavolo。Auberhimselfconfessedtomethathehadmadeitsadandputthehermitagebelltogowithitbecausehetoowasgrievedathavingtokillhisvillain，andwantedhimtodie，ifpossible，inareligiousframeofmind。AndAubertouchedglasseswithmeandsaid——howwellI
rememberit！——’IsitthegoodLord，orisitmerelythedevil，thatmakesmealwayshaveaweaknessforrascals？’Itoldhimitwasthedevil。Iwasnotapriestthen。Icouldnotbesosurewithmyanswernow。\"AndthenPadreIgnaziorepeatedAuber’sremarkinFrench：\"’Est—celebonDieu，onest—cebienlediable，quimefaittonjoursaimerlescoquins？’Idon’tknow！Idon’tknow！IwonderifAuberhascomposedanythinglately？IwonderwhoissingingZerlinanow？\"
Hecastafarewelllookattheocean，andtookhisstepsbetweenthemonasticherbsandtheoleanderstothesacristy。\"Atleast，\"besaid，\"ifwecannotcarrywithusintoexilethefriendsandtheplacesthatwehaveloved，musicwillgowherewego，eventosuchanendoftheworldasthis。Felipe！\"hecalledtohisorganist。\"CantheysingthemusicI
taughtthemfortheDixitDominusto—night？\"
\"Yes，father，surely。\"
\"Thenwewillhavethat。And，Felipe——\"Thepadrecrossedthechanceltothesmallshabbyorgan。\"Rise，mychild，andlisten。Hereissomethingyoucanlearn。Why，seenowifyoucannotlearnitwithasinglehearing。\"
Theswarthyboyofsixteenstoodwatchinghismaster’sfingers，delicateandwhite，astheyplayed。Soofhisownaccordhehadbeguntowatchthemwhenachildofsix；andthepadrehadtakenthewild，half—scared，spellboundcreatureandmadeamusicianofhim。
\"There，Felipe！\"hesaidnow。\"Canyoudoit？Slower，andmoresoftly，muchacho。Itisaboutthedeathofaman，anditshouldgowithourbell。\"
Theboylistened。\"Thenthefatherhasplayeditatonetoolow，\"saidhe；\"forourbellringsthenoteofsol，orsomethingverynearit，asthefathermustsurelyknow。\"Heplacedthemelodyintherightkey——aneasythingforhim；butthepadrewasdelighted。
\"Ah，myFelipe，\"heexclaimed，\"whatcouldyouandInotdoifwehadabetterorgan！Onlyalittlebetter！See！abovethisrowofkeyswouldbeasecondrow，andmanymorestops。ThenwewouldmakesuchmusicashasneverbeenheardinCaliforniayet。Butmypeoplearesopoorandsofew！
AndsomedayIshallhavepassedfromthem，anditwillbetoolate；\"
\"Perhaps，\"venturedFelipe，\"theAmericanos——\"
\"Theycarenothingforus，Felipe。Theyarenotofourreligion——orofanyreligion，fromwhatIcanhear。Don’tforgetmyDixitDominus。\"Andthepadreretiredoncemoretothesacristy，whilethehorsethatcarriedTemptationcameoverthehill。
Thehourofservicedrewnear；andashewaited，thepadreonceagainsteppedoutforalookattheocean；butthebluetriangleofwaterlaylikeapictureinitsframeofland，emptyasthesky。\"Ithink，fromthecolor，though，\"saidhe，\"thatalittlemorewindmusthavebegunoutthere。\"
Thebellrangalastshortsummonstoprayer。Alongtheroadfromthesouthayoungrider，leadingonepack—animal，ambledintothemissionanddismounted。Churchwasnotsomuchinhisthoughtsasfoodand，induetimeafterthat，abed；butthedoorsstoodopen，andaseverybodywasgoingintothem，morevarietywastobegainedbyjoiningthiscompanythanbywaitingoutsidealoneuntiltheyshouldreturnfromtheirdevotions。Soheseatedhimselfattheback，andafterabrief，jauntyglanceatthesunburnt，shaggycongregation，madehimselfascomfortableasmightbe。Hehadnotseenafaceworthkeepinghiseyesopenfor。Thesimplechoirandsimplefoldgatheredforeven—song，andpaidhimnoattentionontheirpart——aroughAmericanboundforthemineswasnolongeranythingbutanobjectofaversiontothem。
Thepadre，ofcourse，hadbeeninstantlyawareofthestranger’spresence。Forthisisthesixthsensewithvicarsofeverycreedandheresy；andiftheparishislonelyandtheworshippersfewandseldomvarying，anewcomerwillgleamoutlikeanewbooktoberead。Andatrainedpriestlearnstoreadshrewdlythefacesofthosewhoassembletoworshipunderhisguidance。ButAmericanvagrants，withnothoughtssaveofgold—digging，andanoverweeningilliteratejargonfortheirspeech，hadlongceasedtointerestthispriest，eveninhisstarvationforcompanyandtalkfromtheoutsideworld；andthereforeaftertheintoning，hesatwithhishomesickthoughtsunchanged，todrawbothpainandenjoymentfromthemusicthathehadsettotheDixitDominus。Helistenedtothetenderchorusthatopens\"WilliamTell\"；andastheLatinpsalmproceeded，picturesofthepastrosebetweenhimandthealtar。Oneafteranothercamethesestrainswhichhehadtakenfromtheoperasfamousintheirday，untilatlengththepadrewasmurmuringtosomemusicseldomlongoutofhisheart——nottheLatinversewhichthechoirsang，buttheoriginalFrenchwords：
\"Ah，voilemanenvie，Voilamonseuldesir：
Rendezmoimapatrie，Oulaissezmoimourir。\"
Whichmayberendered：
ButonewishIimplore，Onewishisallmycry：
Givebackmynativelandoncemore，Giveback，orletmedie。
Thenithappenedthathesawthestrangerinthebackofthechurchagain，andforgothisDixitDominusstraightway。Thefaceoftheyoungmanwasnolongerhiddenbytheslouchingpositionhehadatfirsttaken。
\"Ionlynoticedhisclothesbefore，\"thoughtthepadre。Restlessnesswasplainuponthehandsomebrow，andinthemouththerewasviolence；butPadreIgnaziolikedtheeyes。\"Heisnotsayinganyprayers，\"hesurmised，presently。\"Idoubtifhehassaidanyforalongwhile。Andheknowsmymusic。Heisofeducatedpeople。HecannotbeAmerican。Andnow——yes，hehastaken——Ithinkitmustbeaflower，fromhispocket。I
shallhavehimtodinewithme。\"Andvespersendedwithrosycloudsofeagernessdriftingacrossthepadre’sbrain。
Butthestrangermadehisownbeginning。Asthepriestcamefromthechurch，therebelliousyoungfigurewaswaiting。\"Yourorganisttellsme，\"hesaid，impetuously，\"thatitisyouwho——\"
\"MayIaskwithwhomIhavethegreatpleasureofspeaking？\"saidthepadre，puttingformalitytothefrontandhispleasureoutofsight。
Thestrangerreddened，andbecameawareofthepadre’sfeatures，mouldedbyrefinementandtheworld。\"Ibegyourlenience，\"saidhe，withagracefulandconfidentutterance，asofequaltoequal。\"MynameisGastonVillere，anditwastimeIshouldberemindedofmymanners。\"
Thepadre’shandwavedapolitenegative。
\"Indeedyes，padre。Butyourmusichasastonishedmetopieces。Ifyoucarriedsuchassociationsas——Ah！thedaysandthenights！\"hebrokeoff。\"TocomedownaCaliforniamountain，\"heresumed，\"andfindParisatthebottom！’TheHuguenots，’Rossini，Herold——Iwaswaitingfor’IlTrovatore。\"’
\"Isthatsomethingnew？\"saidthepadre，eagerly。
Theyoungmangaveanexclamation。\"Thewholeworldisringingwithit，\"
hesaid。
\"ButSantaYsabeldelMarisalongwayfromthewholeworld，\"saidPadreIgnazio。
\"Indeeditwouldnotappeartobeso，\"returnedyoungGaston。\"IthinktheComedieFrancaisemustberoundthecorner。\"
Athrillwentthroughthepriestatthetheatre’sname。\"AndhaveyoubeenlonginAmerica？\"heasked。
\"Why，always——excepttwoyearsofforeigntravelaftercollege。\"
\"AnAmerican！\"saidthesurprisedpadre，withperhapsaflavorofdisappointmentinhisvoice。\"ButnoAmericanswhohaveyetcomethiswayhavebeen——havebeen\"——heveiledthetoobluntexpressionofhisthought——\"havebeenfamiliarwith’TheHuguenots，’\"hefinished，makingaslightbow。
Villeretookhisunder—meaning。\"IcomefromNewOrleans，\"hereturned。
\"AndinNewOrleanstherelivemanyofuswhocanrecognizea——whocanrecognizegoodmusicwhereverwemeetit。\"Andhemadeaslightbowinhisturn。
Thepadrelaughedoutrightwithpleasure，andlaidhishandupontheyoungman’sarm。\"Youhavenointentionofgoingawaytomorrow，Itrust？\"
saidhe。
\"Withyourleave，\"answeredGaston，\"Iwillhavesuchanintentionnolonger。\"
Itwaswiththeairandgaitofmutualunderstandingthatthetwonowwalkedontogethertowardsthepadre’sdoor。Theguestwastwenty—five，thehostsixty。
\"AndhaveyoubeeninAmericalong？\"inquiredGaston。
\"Twentyyears。\"
\"AndatSantaYsabelhowlong？\"
\"Twentyyears。\"
\"Ishouldhavethought，\"saidGaston，lookinglightlyattheemptymountains，\"thatnowandagainyoumighthavewishedtotravel。\"
\"WereIyourage，\"murmuredPadreIgnazio，\"itmightbeso。\"
Theeveninghadnowripenedtothelongafter—glowofsunset。Theseawasthepurpleofgrapes，andwinecoloredhuesflowedamongthehighshouldersofthemountains。
\"Ihaveseenasightlikethis，\"saidGaston，\"betweenGranadaandMalaga。\"
\"SoyouknowSpain！\"saidthepadre。
Oftenhehadthoughtofthisresemblance，butneverheardittoldtohimbefore。ThecourtlyproprietorofSanFernando，andtheotherpatriarchalrancheroswithwhomheoccasionallyexchangedvisitsacrossthewilderness，knewhospitalityandinheritedgentlemanners，sendingtoEuropeforsilksandlacestogivetheirdaughters；buttheireyeshadnotlookeduponGranada，andtheirearshadneverlistenedto\"WilliamTell。\"
\"Itisquitesingular，\"pursuedGaston，\"howonenookintheworldwillsuddenlyremindyouofanothernookthatmaybethousandsofmilesaway。
Onemorning，behindtheQuaiVoltaire，anoldyellowhousewithrustybalconiesmademealmosthomesickforNewOrleans。\"
\"TheQuaiVoltaire！\"saidthepadre。
\"IheardRachelin’Valerie’thatnight，\"theyoungmanwenton。\"Didyouknowthatshecouldsingtoo？ShesangseveralversesbyanastonishinglittleJewmusicianthathascomeupoverthere。\"
Thepadregazeddownathisblitheguest。\"Toseesomebody，somebody，onceagain，\"hesaid，\"isverypleasanttoahermit。\"
\"Itcannotbemorepleasantthanarrivingatanoasis，\"returnedGaston。
Theyhaddelayedonthethresholdtolookatthebeautyoftheevening，andnowthepriestwatchedhisparishionerscomeandgo。\"Howcanonemakecompanions——\"hebegan；then，checkinghimself，hesaid：\"Theirsoulsareassacredandimmortalasmine，andGodhelpsmetohelpthem。
Butinthisworlditisnotimmortalsoulsthatwechooseforcompanions；
itiskindredtastes，intelligences，and——andsoIandmybooksaregrowingoldtogether，yousee，\"headded，morelightly。\"Youwillfindmyvolumesasbehindthetimesasmyself。\"
Hehadfallenintotalkmoreintimatethanhewished；andwhiletheguestwasutteringsomethingpoliteaboutthenobilityofmissionarywork，heplacedhiminaneasy—chairandsoughtaguardienteforhisimmediaterefreshment。Sincetheyear’sbeginningtherehadbeennoguestforhimtobringintohisrooms，ortositbesidehiminthehighseatsattable，setapartforthegentefina。
SuchanotherlibrarywasnottheninCalifornia；andthoughGastonVillere，inleavingHarvardCollege，hadshutHoraceandSophoclesforeverattheearliestinstantpossibleunderacademicrequirements，heknewtheGreekandLatinnamesthathenowsawaswellasheknewthoseofShakespeare，Dante，Moliere，andCervantes。Thesewereherealso；norcoulditbepreciselysaidofthem，either，thattheymadeapartoftheyoungman’sdailyreading。Ashesurveyedthepadre’saugustshelves，itwaswithatouchofthefloridSoutherngravitywhichhisNortherneducationhadnotwhollyschooledoutofhimthathesaid：
\"IfearthatIamnoscholar，sir。ButIknowwhatwriterseverygentlemanoughttorespect。\"
Thesubtlepadrebowedgravelytothiscompliment。
Itwaswhenhiseyescaughtsightofthemusicthattheyoungmanfeltagainatease，andhisvivacityreturnedtohim。Leavinghischair，hebeganenthusiasticallytoexaminethetallpilesthatfilledonesideoftheroom。Thevolumeslayrichlyeverywhere，makingapleasantdisorder；
andasperfumecomesoutofaflower，memoriesofsingersandchandeliersrosebrightfromtheprintednames。\"Norma，\"\"Tancredi，\"\"DonPasquale，\"
\"LaVestale\"——dimlightsinthefashionsofto—day——sparkledupontheexploringGaston，conjuringtheradianthallsofEuropebeforehim。\"’TheBarberofSeville！’\"hepresentlyexclaimed。\"AndIhappenedtohearitinSeville。\"
ButSeville’snamebroughtoverthepadreanewrushofhomethoughts。
\"IsnotAndalusiabeautiful？\"hesaid。\"DidyouseeitinApril，whentheflowerscome？\"
\"Yes，\"saidGaston，amongthemusic。\"IwasatCordovathen。\"
\"Ah，Cordova！\"murmuredthepadre。
\"’Semiramide！’\"criedGaston，lightinguponthatopera。\"Thatwasaweek！
Ishouldliketoliveitover，everydayandnightofit！\"
\"DidyoureachMalagafromMarseillesorGibraltar？\"saidthepadre，wistfully。
\"FromMarseilles。DownfromParisthroughtheRhoneValley，youknow。\"
\"ThenyousawProvence！Anddidyougo，perhaps，fromAvignontoNismesbythePontduGard？ThereisaplaceIhavemadehere——alittle，littleplace——witholive—trees。Andnowtheyhavegrown，anditlookssomethinglikethatcountry，ifyoustandinaparticularposition。Iwilltakeyouthereto—morrow。IthinkyouwillunderstandwhatImean。\"
\"Anotherresemblance！\"saidthevolatileandhappyGaston。\"Webothseemtohaveaneyeforthem。But，believeme，padre，Icouldneverstayhereplantingolives。Ishouldgobackandseetheoriginalones——andthenI’dhastenuptoParis。\"And，withavolumeofMeyerbeeropeninhishand，Gastonhummed：\"’Robert，Robert，toiquej’aime。’Why，padre，Ithinkthatyourlibrarycontainsnoneofthemassesandalloftheoperasintheworld！\"
\"Iwillmakeyoualittleconfession，\"saidPadreIgnazio，\"andthenyoushallgivemealittleabsolution。\"
\"Withapenance，\"saidGaston。\"Youmustplayoversomeofthesethingstome。\"
\"IsupposethatIcouldnotpermitmyselfthisindulgence，\"beganthepadre，pointingtohisoperas；\"andteachthesetomychoir，ifthepeoplehadanyworldlyassociationswiththemusic。ButIhavereasonedthatthemusiccannotdothemharm——\"
Theringingofabellhereinterruptedhim。\"Infifteenminutes，\"hesaid，\"ourpoormealwillbereadyforyou。\"Thegoodpadrewasnotquitesincerewhenhespokeofapoormeal。Whilegettingtheaguardienteforhisguesthehadgivenorders，andheknewhowwellsuchorderscouldbecarriedout。Helivedalone，andgenerallysuppedsimplyenough，butnoteventheampletableatSanFernandocouldsurpasshisownonoccasions。
Andthiswasforhimanoccasionindeed！
\"Yourhalf—breedswillthinkIamoneofthemselves，\"saidGaston，showinghisdustyclothes。\"Iamnotfittobeseatedwithyou。\"He，too，wasnotmoresincerethanhishost。Inhispack，whichanIndianhadbroughtfromhishorse，hecarriedsomegarmentsofcivilization。Andpresently，afterfreshwaterandnotalittlepainstakingwithbrushandscarf，therecamebacktothepadreayoungguestwhoseeleganceandbearingandeaseofthegreatworldweretotheexiledpriestassweetaswashistraveledconversation。
Theyrepairedtothehallandtooktheirseatsattheheadofthelongtable。ForthestatelySpanishcenturiesofcustomlivedatSantaYsabeldelMar，inviolate，feudal，remote。
Theyweretheonlypersonsofqualitypresent；andbetweenthemselvesandthegentederazonaspaceintervened。Behindthepadre’schairstoodanIndiantowaituponhim，andanotherstoodbehindthechairofGastonVillere。Eachoftheseservantsworeonesinglewhitegarment，andofferedthemanydishestothegentefinaandrefilledtheirglasses。Atthelowerendofthetableageneralattendantwaiteduponthemesclados——thehalf—breeds。Therewasmeatwithspices，androastedquail，withvariouscakesandotherpreparationsofgrain；alsotheblackfresholives，andgrapes，withseveralsortsoffigsandplums，andpreservedfruits，andwhiteandredwine——thewhitefiftyyearsold。Beneaththequietshiningofcandles，fresh—cutflowersleanedfromvesselsofoldMexicanandSpanishmake。
Thereatoneendofthisfeastsatthewild，pastoral，gaudycompany，speakinglittleovertheirfood；andthereattheotherthepalepadre，questioninghisvisitoraboutRachel。Themerenameofastreetwouldbringmemoriescrowdingtohislips；andwhenhisguestwouldtellhimofanewplay，hewasreadywitholdquotationsfromthesameauthor。AlfreddeVignytheyhad，andVictorHugo，whomthepadredisliked。Longafterthedulce，orsweetdish，whenitwasthecustomforthevaquerosandtherestoftheretainerstoriseandleavethegentefinatothemselves，thehostsatonintheemptyhall，fondlytellingtheguestofhisbygoneParis，andfondlylearningoftheParisthatwasto—day。Andthusthetwolingered，exchangingtheirfervors，whilethecandleswaned，andthelong—hairedIndiansstoodsilentbehindthechairs。
\"Butwemustgotomypiano，\"thehostexclaimed。Foratlengththeyhadcometoalustydifferenceofopinion。Thepadre，withearscriticallydeaf，andwithsmiling，unconvincedeyes，wasshakinghishead，whileyoungGastonsang\"Trovatore\"athim，andbeatuponthetablewithafork。
\"Comeandconvertme，then，\"saidPadreIgnazio，andheledtheway。
\"DonizettiIhavealwaysadmitted。There，atleast，isrefinement。IftheworldhastakentothisVerdi，withhisstreet—bandmusic——Butthere，now！Sitdownandconvertme。Onlydon’tcrushmypoorlittleErardwithVerdi’shoofs。IbroughtitwhenIcame。Itisbehindthetimestoo。And，oh，mydearboy，ourorganisstillworse。Soold，soold！TogetaproperoneIwouldsacrificeeventhispianoofmineinamoment——onlythetinklingthingisnotworthasoutoanybodyexceptitsmaster。Butthere！Areyouquitecomfortable？\"Andhavingseentohisguest’sneeds，andplacedspiritsandcigarsandanash—traywithinhisreach，thepadresathimselfluxuriouslyinhischairtohearandexposethefalsedoctrineof\"IlTrovatore。\"
BymidnightalloftheoperathatGastoncouldrecallhadbeenplayedandsungtwice。Theconvertsatinhischairnolonger，butstoodsingingbythepiano。Thepotentswingandflowoftunes，thetorrid，copiousinspirationoftheSouth，masteredhim。\"Verdihasgrown，\"hecried。
\"Verdihasbecomeagiant。\"Andheswayedtothebeatofthemelodies，andwavedanenthusiasticarm。Hedemandedeverycrumb。WhydidnotGastonrememberitall？Butifthebarkentinewouldarriveandbringthewholemusic，thentheywouldhaveitright！AndhemadeGastonteachhimwhatwordsheknew。\"’Nontiscordar，\"’hesang——\"’nontiscordardime。’
Thatisgenius。Butoneseeshowtheworld；moveswhenoneisoutofit。
’Anostrimontiritorneremo’；hometoourmountains。Ah，yes，thereisgeniusagain。\"Andtheexilesighedandhisspiritwenttodistantplaces，whileGastoncontinuedbrilliantlywiththemusicofthefinalscene。
Thenthehostrememberedhisguest。\"Iamashamedofmyselfishness，\"hesaid。\"Itisalreadyto—morrow。\"
\"Ihavesatlaterinlessgoodcompany，\"answeredthepleasantGaston。
\"AndIshallsleepallthesounderformakingaconvert。\"
\"Youhavedispensedroadsidealms，\"saidthepadre，smiling。\"Andthatshouldwinexcellentdreams。\"
Thus，withcourtesiesmoreelaboratethantheworldhastimeforatthepresentday，theybadeeachothergood—nightandparted，bearingtheirlatecandlesalongthequiethallsofthemission。ToyoungGastoninhisbedeasysleepcamewithoutwaiting，andnodreamsatall。Outsidehisopenwindowwasthequiet，serenedarkness，wherethestarsshoneclear，andtranquilperfumeshunginthecloisters。Andwhiletheguestlaysleepingallnightinunchangedpositionlikeachild，upanddownbetweentheoleanderswentPadreIgnazio，walkinguntildawn。
Dayshowedtheocean’ssurfacenolongerglassy，butlyinglikeamirrorbreathedupon；andtherebetweentheshortheadlandscameasail，grayandplainagainsttheflatwater。Thepriestwatchedthroughhisglasses，andsawthegradualsungrowstronguponthecanvasofthebarkentine。
Themessagefromhisworldwasathand，yetto—dayhescarcelycaredsomuch。Sittinginhisgardenyesterdayhecouldneverhaveimaginedsuchachange。Buthisheartdidnothailthebarkentineasusual。Books，music，palepaper，andprint——thiswasallthatwascomingtohim，andsomeofitssavorhadgone；forthesirenvoiceoflifehadbeenspeakingwithhimfacetoface，andinhisspirit，deepdown，theloveoftheworldwasrestlesslyansweringthatcall。YoungGastonshowedmoreeagernessthanthepadreoverthisarrivalofthevesselthatmightbebringing\"Trovatore\"inthenickoftime。Nowhewouldhavethechance，beforehetookhisleave，tohelprehearsethenewmusicwiththechoir。Hewouldbeamissionarytoo。Aperfectlynewexperience。
\"AndyoustillforgiveVerdithesinsofhisyouth？\"hesaidtohishost。
\"Iwonderifyoucouldforgivemine？\"
\"Verdihaslefthisbehindhim，\"retortedthepadre。
\"ButIamonlytwenty—five，\"explainedGaston，pathetically。
\"Ah，don’tgoawaysoon！\"pleadedtheexile。Itwastheplainestburstthathadescapedhim，andhefeltinstantshame。
ButGastonwastoomuchelatedwiththeenjoymentofeachnewdaytounderstand。Theshaftsofanother’spainmightscarcelypiercethebrightarmorofhisgayety。Hemistookthepriest’sexclamationforanxietyabouthisownhappysoul。
\"Stayhereunderyourcare？\"hesaid。\"Itwoulddomenogood，padre。
Temptationsticksclosertomethanabrother！\"andhegavethatlaughofhiswhichdisarmedsevererjudgesthanhishost。\"BynextweekIshouldhaveintroducedsomesinorotherintoyourbeautifulGardenofIgnorancehere。ItwillbemuchsaferforyourflockifIgoandjointheotherserpentsatSanFrancisco。\"
Soonafterbreakfastthepadrehadhistwomulessaddled，andheandhisguestsetforthdownthehillstogethertotheshore。Andbeneaththespellandconfidenceofpleasant，slowriding，andthelovelinessofeverything，theyoungmantalkedfreelyofhimself。
\"And，seriously，\"saidhe，\"ifImissednothingelseatSantaYsabel，I
shouldlongtohearthebirds。Athomeourgardensarefullofthem，andonesmellsthejasmine，andtheysingandsing！WhenourshipfromtheIsthmusputintoSanDiego，IdecidedtogoonbylandandseeCalifornia。Then，afterthefirstdays，Ibegantomisssomething。Allthatbeautyseemedempty，inaway。AndsuddenlyIfounditwasthebirds。Fortheselittlescamperingquailarenothing。Thereseemsasortofdeathintheairwherenobirdseversing。\"
\"YouwillnotfindanybirdsatSanFrancisco，\"saidthepadre。
\"Ishallfindlife！\"exclaimedGaston。\"Andmyfortuneatthemines，I
hope。Iamnotabadfellow，father。YoucaneasilyguessallthethingsthatIdo。Ihavenever，tomyknowledge，harmedanyone。Ididnoteventrytokillmyadversaryinanaffairofhonor。Igavehimamerefleshwound，andbythistimehemustbequiterecovered。Hewasmyfriend。Butashecamebetweenme——\"
Gastonstopped；andthepadre，lookingkeenlyathim，sawtheviolencethathehadnoticedinchurchpasslikeaflameovertheyoungman’shandsomeface。
\"There’snothingdishonorable，\"saidGaston，answeringthepriest’slook。
\"Ihavenotthoughtso，myson。\"
\"Ididwhateverygentlemanwoulddo，\"saidGaston。
\"Andthatisoftenwrong！\"criedthepadre。\"ButI’mnotyourconfessor。\"
\"I’venothingtoconfess，\"saidGaston，frankly。\"IleftNewOrleansatonce，andhavetravelledaninnocentjourneystraighttoyou。AndwhenI
makemyfortuneIshallbeinapositiontoreturnand——\"
\"Claimthepressedflower！\"putinthepadre，laughing。
\"Ah，yourememberhowthosethingsare！\"saidGaston；andhelaughedalsoandblushed。
\"Yes，\"saidthepadre，lookingattheanchoredbarkentine，\"Irememberhowthosethingsare。\"Andforawhilethevesselanditscargoandthelandedmenandvariousbusinessandconversationsoccupiedthem。Butthefreightforthemissiononceseento，therewasnotmuchelsetohangaboutherefor。
Thebarkentinewasonlyacoasterlikemanyotherswhichnowhadbeguntofilltheseaalittlemoreoflateyears，andpresentlyhostandguestwereridinghomeward。Andguessingatthetwomenfromtheiroutsides，anyonewouldhavegotthempreciselywrong；forwithintheturbulentyoungfigureofGastondweltaspiritthatcouldnotbemoreatease，whilerevoltwassteadilysmoulderingbeneaththeschooledandplacidmaskofthepadre。
Yetstillthestrangenessofhisbeingatsuchaplacecamebackasamarvelintotheyoungman’slivelymind。Twentyyearsinprison，hethought，andhardlyawareofit！Andheglancedatthesilentpriest。A
mansoevidentlyfondofmusic，oftheatres，oftheworld，towhompressedflowershadmeantsomethingonce——andnowcontentedtobleachuponthesewastes！Notevendesirousofabriefholiday，butfindinganoldorganandsomeoldoperasenoughrecreation！\"Itishisage，I
suppose，\"thoughtGaston。Andthenthenotionofhimselfwhenheshouldbesixtyoccurredtohim，andhespoke。
\"Doyouknow，Idonotbelieve，\"saidhe，\"thatIshouldeverreachsuchcontentmentasyours。\"
\"Perhapsyouwill，\"saidPadreIgnazio，inalowvoice。
\"Never！\"declaredtheyouth。\"Itcomesonlytothefew，Iamsure。\"
\"Yes。Onlytothefew，\"murmuredthepadre。
\"Iamcertainthatitmustbeagreatpossession，\"Gastoncontinued；\"andyet——andyet——dearme！lifeisasplendidthing！\"
\"Thereareseveralsortsofit，\"saidthepadre。
\"Onlyoneforme！\"criedGaston。\"Action，men，women，things——tobethere，tobeknown，toplayapart，tositinthefrontseats；tohavepeopletelleachother，’TheregoesGastonVillere！’andtodeserveone’sprominence。Why，ifIwerePadreofSantaYsabeldelMarfortwentyyears——no！foroneyear——doyouknowwhatIshouldhavedone？Somedayitwouldhavebeentoomuchforme。Ishouldhaveleftthesesavagestoapastornearertheirownlevel，andIshouldhaveriddendownthiscanyonuponmymule，andsteppedonboardthebarkentine，andgonebacktomypropersphere。Youwillunderstand，sir，thatIamfarfromventuringtomakeanypersonalcomment。Iamonlythinkingwhataworldofdifferenceliesbetweenmen’snatureswhocanfeelalikeaswedouponsomanysubjects。Why，notsinceleavingNewOrleanshaveImetanyonewithwhomIcouldtalk，exceptoftheweatherandthebruteinterestscommontousall。Thatsuchaoneasyoushouldbehereislikeadream。\"
\"Butitisnotadream，\"saidthepadre。
\"And，sir——pardonmeifIdosaythis——areyounotwastedatSantaYsabeldelMar？IhaveseenthepriestsattheothermissionsTheyare——thesortofgoodmenthatIexpected。Butareyouneededtosavesuchsoulsasthese？\"
\"Thereisnoaristocracyofsouls，\"saidthepadre，almostwhisperingnow。
\"Butthebodyandthemind！\"criedGaston。\"MyGod，aretheynothing？Doyouthinkthattheyaregiventousfornothingbutatrap？Youcannotteachsuchadoctrinewithyourlibrarythere。Andhowaboutallthecultivatedmenandwomenawayfromwhosequickeningsocietythebrightestofusgrownumb？Youhaveheldout。Butwillitbeforlong？Doyounotoweyourselftothesavingofhighergamehenceforth？Arenottwentyyearsofmescladosenough？No，no！\"finishedyoungGaston，hotwithhisunforeseeneloquence；\"Ishouldridedownsomemorningandtakethebarkentine。\"
PadreIgnaziowassilentforaspace。
\"Ihavenotoffendedyou？\"saidtheyoungman。
\"No。Anythingbutthat。YouaresurprisedthatIshould——choose——tostayhere。PerhapsyoumayhavewonderedhowIcametobehereatall？\"
\"Ihadnotintendedanyimpertinent——\"
\"Ohno。Putsuchanideaoutofyourhead，myson。YoumayrememberthatIwasgoingtomakeyouaconfessionaboutmyoperas。Letussitdowninthisshade。\"
Sotheypicketedthemulesnearthestreamandsatdown。
\"Youhaveseen，\"beganPadreIgnazio，\"whatsortofamanI——wasonce。
Indeed，itseemsverystrangetomyselfthatyoushouldhavebeenherenottwenty—fourhoursyet，andknowsomuchofme。Fortherehascomenooneelseatall\"——thepadrepausedamomentandmasteredtheunsteadinessthathehadfeltapproachinginhisvoice——\"therehasbeennooneelsetowhomIhavetalkedsofreely。InmyearlydaysIhadnothoughtofbeingapriest。Myparentsdestinedmeforadiplomaticcareer。Therewasplentyofmoneyand——andalltherestofit；forbyinheritancecametometheacquaintanceofmanypeoplewhosenamesyouwouldbelikelytohaveheardof。Cities，peopleoffashion，artists——thewholeofitwasmyelementandmychoice；andby—and—byImarried，notonlywhereitwasdesirable，butwhereIloved。ThenforthefirsttimeDeathlaidhisstaffuponmyenchantment，andIunderstoodmanythingsthathadbeenonlywordstomehitherto。Lookingback，itseemedtomethatIhadneverdoneanythingexceptformyselfallmydays。Ilefttheworld。InduetimeIbecameapriestandlivedinmyowncountry。Butmyworldlyexperienceandmyseculareducationhadgiventomyopinionsaturntooliberalfortheplacewheremyworkwaslaid。Iwassoonadvisedconcerningthisbythoseinauthorityoverme。AndsincetheycouldnotchangemeandIcouldnotchangethem，yetwishedtoworkandtoteach，theNewWorldwassuggested，andIvolunteeredtogivetherestofmylifetomissions。Itwassoonfoundthatsomeonewasneededhere，andforthislittleplaceIsailed，andtothesehumblepeopleIhavededicatedmyservice。Theyarepastoralcreaturesofthesoil。Theirvineyardandcattledaysareapttobelikethesunandstormaroundthem——strongalikeintheirevilandintheirgood。Alltheiryearstheyliveaschildren——childrenwithmen’spassionsgiventothemlikedeadlyweapons，unabletomeasuretheharmtheirimpulsesmaybring。
Hence，evenintheircrimes，theirheartswillgenerallyopensoontotheonegreatkeyoflove，whilecivilizationmakeslockswhichthatkeycannotalwaysfitatthefirstturn。Andcomingtoknowthis，\"saidPadreIgnazio，fixinghiseyessteadilyuponGaston，\"youwillunderstandhowgreataprivilegeitistohelpsuchpeople，andhourthesenseofsomethingaccomplished——underGod——shouldbringcontentmentwithrenunciation。\"
\"Yes，\"saidGastonVillere。Then，thinkingofhimself，\"Icanunderstanditinamanlikeyou。\"
\"Donotspeakofmeatall！\"exclaimedthepadre，almostpassionately。
\"ButprayHeaventhatyoumayfindthethingyourselfsomeday——contentmentwithrenunciation——andneverletitgo。\"
\"Amen！\"saidGaston，strangelymoved。
\"Thatisthewholeofmystory，\"thepriestcontinued，withnomoreoftherecentstressinhisvoice。\"AndnowIhavetalkedtoyouaboutmyselfquiteenough。Butyoumusthavemyconfession。\"Hehadnowresumedentirelyhishalf—playfultone。\"Iwasjustalittlemistaken，youseetooself—reliant，perhaps——whenIsupposed，inmyfirstmissionaryardor，thatIcouldgetonwithoutanyremembranceoftheworldatall。IfoundthatIcouldnot。AndsoIhavetaughttheoldoperastomychoir——suchpartsofthemasarewithinourcompassandsuitableforworship。Andcertainofmyfriendsstillaliveathomearegoodenoughtorememberthistasteofmine，andtosendmeeachyearsomeofthenewmusicthatI
shouldneverhearofotherwise。Thenwestudythesethingsalso。Andalthoughourorganisamiserableaffair，Felipemanagesverycleverlytomakeitdo。Andwhilethevoicesaresingingtheseoperas，especiallytheoldones，whatharmisthereifsometimesthepriestisthinkingofsomethingelse？Sothere’smyconfession！Andnow，whether’Trovatore’
hascomeornot，IshallnotallowyoutoleaveusuntilyouhavetaughtallyouknowofittoFelipe。\"
Thenewopera，however，haddulyarrived。AndasheturneditspagesPadreIgnaziowasquicktoseizeatonceuponthemusicthatcouldbetakenintohischurch。Someofitwasreadyfitted。BythatafternoonFelipeandhischoircouldhaverendered\"Ah！sel’errort’ingombra\"
withoutsliporfalter。
Thosewerestrangerehearsalsof\"IlTrovatore\"uponthisCaliforniashore。ForthepadrelookedtoGastontosaywhentheywenttoofastortooslow，andtocorrecttheiremphasis。Andsinceitwashot，thelittleErardpianowascarriedeachdayoutintothemissiongarden。There，inthecloistersamongtheoleanders，inthepresenceofthetallyellowhillsandthebluetriangleofsea，the\"Miserere\"wasslowlylearned。
TheMexicansandIndiansgathered，swarthyandblack—haired，aroundthetinklinginstrumentthatFelipeplayed；andpresidingoverthemwereyoungGastonandthepalepadre，walkingupanddownthepaths，beatingtime，orsingingnowonepartandnowanother。Andsoitwasthatthewildcattleontheuplandswouldhear\"Trovatore\"hummedbyapassingvaquero，whilethesamemelodywasfillingthestreetsofthefar—offworld。
ForthreedaysGastonVillereremainedatSantaYsabeldelMar；andthoughnotawordofthesortcamefromhim，hishostcouldreadSanFranciscoandthegold—minesinhiscountenance。No，theyoungmancouldnothavestayedherefortwentyyears！Andthepadreforboreurginghisguesttoextendhisvisit。
\"Buttheworldissmall，\"theguestdeclaredatparting。\"Somedayitwillnotbeabletospareyouanylonger。Andthenwearesuretomeet。
Andyoushallhearfrommesoon，atanyrate。\"
Again，asuponthefirstevening，thetwoexchangedafewcourtesies，moregracefulandparticularthanwe，whohavenottime，andfightnoduels，findworthaman’swhileatthepresentday。Forduelsaregone，whichisaverygoodthing，andwiththemacertaincarefulpoliteness，whichisapity；butthatisthewayinthegeneralprofitandloss。SoyoungGastonrodenorthwardoutofthemission，backtotheworldandhisfortune；andthepadrestoodwatchingthedustaftertheriderhadpassedfromsight。Thenhewentintohisroomwithadrawnface。Butappearancesatleasthadbeenkeptuptotheend；theyouthwouldneverknowoftheoldman’sdiscontent。
TemptationhadarrivedwithGaston，butwasgoingtomakealongerstayatSantaYsabeldelMar。Yetitwassomethinglikeaweekbeforethepriestknewwhatguesthehadinhishousenow。Theguestwasnotalwayspresent——madehimselfscarcequiteoften。
Sailawayonthebarkentine？Thatwasawildnotion，tobesure，althoughfitenoughtoenterthebrainofsuchayoungscapegrace。ThepadreshookhisheadandsmiledaffectionatelywhenhethoughtofGastonVillere。Theyouth’shandsome，recklesscountenancewouldcomebeforehim，andherepeatedAuber’soldremark，\"IsitthegoodLord，orisitmerelythedevil，thatalwaysmakesmehaveaweaknessforrascals？\"
Sailawayonthebarkentine！Imaginetakingleaveofthepeoplehere——ofFelipe！Inwhatwordsshouldhetelltheboytogoonindustriouslywithhismusic？No，thiscouldnotbeimagined。Themerepartingalonewouldmakeitforeverimpossiblethatheshouldthinkofsuchathing。\"Andthen，\"hesaidtohimselfeachnewmorning，whenhelookedoutattheocean，\"Ihavegivenmylifetothem。Onedoesnottakebackagift。\"
Picturesofhisdeparturebegantoshineandmeltinhisdriftingfancy。
HesawhimselfexplainingtoFelipethatnowhispresencewaswantedelsewhere；thattherewouldcomeasuccessortotakecareofSantaYsabel——ayoungerman，moreuseful，andabletovisitsickpeopleatadistance。\"ForIamoldnow。Ishouldnotbelonghereinanycase。\"Hestoppedandpressedhishandstogether；hehadcaughthistemptationintheveryact。Nowhesatstaringathistemptation’sface，closetohim，whilethereinthetriangletwoshipswentsailingby。
OnemorningFelipetoldhimthatthebarkentinewashereonitsreturnvoyagesouth。\"Indeed？\"saidthepadre，coldly。\"Thethingsarereadytogo，Ithink。\"Forthevesselcalledformailandcertainboxesthatthemissionsentaway。Felipelefttheroom，inwonderatthepadre’smanner。
Butthepriestwaslaughingaloneinsidetoseehowlittleitwastohimwherethebarkentinewas，orwhetheritshouldbecomingorgoing。Butintheafternoon，athispiano，hefoundhimselfsaying，\"Othershipscallhere，atanyrate。\"Andthenforthefirsttimeheprayedtobedeliveredfromhisthoughts。Yetpresentlyhelefthisseatandlookedoutofthewindowforasightofthebarkentine；butitwasgone。
Theseasonofthewine—makingpassed，andtheputtingupofallthefruitsthatthemissionfieldsgrew。Lotionsandmedicinesweredistilledfromthegardenherbs。Perfumewasmanufacturedfromthepetalsoftheflowersandcertainspices，andpresentsofitdespatchedtoSanFernandoandVentura，andtofriendsatotherplaces；forthepadrehadaspecialreceipt。Asthetimeranon，twoorthreevisitorspassedanightwithhim；andpresentlytherewasawordatvariousmissionsthatPadreIgnaziohadbeguntoshowhisyears。AtSantaYsabeldelMartheywhispered，\"Thepadreisgettingsick。\"Yetherodeagreatdealoverthehillsbyhimself，anddownthecanyonveryoften，stoppingwherehehadsatwithGaston，tositaloneandlookupanddown，nowatthehillsabove，andnowattheoceanbelow。Amonghisparishionershehadcertaintroublestosoothe，certainwoundstoheal；ahomefromwhichhewasabletodrivejealousy；agirlwhomhebadeherloversetright。Butallsaid，\"Thepadreissick。\"AndFelipetoldthemthatthemusicseemednothingtohimanymore；heneveraskedforhisDixitDominusnowadays。Thenforashorttimehewasreallyinbed，feverishwiththetwovoicesthatspoketohimwithoutceasing。\"Youhavegivenyourlife，\"saidonevoice。
\"Andtherefore，\"saidtheother，\"haveearnedtherighttogohomeanddie。\"\"YouarewinningbetterrewardsintheserviceofGod，\"saidthefirstvoice。\"Godcanbeservedinotherplacesthanthis，\"answeredthesecond。AshelaylisteninghesawSevilleagain，andthetreesofAranhal，wherehehadbeenborn。Thewindwasblowingthroughthem；andintheirbrancheshecouldhearthenightingales。\"Empty！Empty！\"hesaid，aloud。\"Hewasrightaboutthebirds。Deathdoesliveintheairwheretheyneversing。\"AndhelayfortwodaysandnightshearingthewindandthenightingalesinthetreesofAranhal。ButFelipe，watching，heardonlythepadrecryingthroughthehours：\"Empty！Empty！\"
Thenthewindinthetreesdieddown，andthepadrecouldgetoutofbed，andsooncouldbeinthegarden。Butthevoiceswithinhimstilltalkedallthewhileashesatwatchingthesailswhentheypassedbetweentheheadlands。Theirwords，fallingforeverthesameway，beathisspiritsore，likebruisedflesh。Ifhecouldonlychangewhattheysaid，hecouldrest。
\"HasthepadreanymailforSantaBarbara？\"saidFelipe。\"Theshipboundsouthwardshouldbehereto—morrow。\"
\"Iwillattendtoit，\"saidthepriest，notmoving。AndFelipestoleaway。
AtFelipe’swordsthevoiceshadstopped，aclockdonestriking。Silence，strainedlikeexpectation，filledthepadre’ssoul。Butinplaceofthevoicescameoldsightsofhomeagain，thewavingtreesatAranhal；thenwouldbeRachelforamoment，deciaimingtragedywhileahousefuloffacesthatheknewbynamewatchedher；andthroughallthepanoramarangthepleasantlaughofGaston。ForawhileintheeveningthepadresatathisErardplaying\"Trovatore。\"Later，inhissleeplessbedhelay，sayingnowathen：\"Todieathome！SurelyImaygrantedatleastthis。\"Andhelistenedfortheinnervoices。Buttheywerenotspeakinganymore，andtheblackholeofsilencegrewmoredreadfultohimthantheirarguments。
Thenthedawncameinathiswindow，andhelaywatchingitsgraygrowwarmintocolor，ussuddenlyhesprangfromhisbedandlookedthesea。
Thesouthboundshipwascoming。PeoplewereonboardwhoinafewweekswouldbesailingtheAtlantic，whilehewouldstandherelookingoutofthesamewindow。\"MercifulGod！\"hecried，sinkingonknees。\"HeavenlyFather，Thouseestthisevilinmyheart。Thouknowestthatmyweakhandcannotpluckitout。Mystrengthisbreaking，andstillThoumakestmyburdenheavierthanIcanbear。\"Hestopped，breathlessandtrembling。
Thesamevisionswereflittingacrosshisclosedeyes；thesamesilencegapedlikeadrycraterinhissoul。\"Thereisnohelpinearthorheaven，\"hesaid，veryquietly；andhedressedhimself。
ItwassoearlystillthatnonebutafewoftheIndianswerestirring，andoneofthemsaddledthepadre’smule。Felipewasnotyetawake，andforamomentitcameinthepriest’smindtoopentheboy’sdoorsoftly，lookathimoncemore，andcomeaway。Butthishedidnotdo，noreventakeafarewellglanceatthechurchandorgan。Hebadenothingfarewell，but，turninghisbackuponhisroomandhisgarden，rodedownthecaution。
Thevessellayatanchor，andsomeonehadlandedfromherandwastalkingwithothermenontheshore。Seeingthepriestslowlycoming，thisstrangerapproachedtomeethim。
\"Youareconnectedwiththemissionhere？\"heinquired。
\"I——am。\"
\"PerhapsitiswithyouthatGastonVillerestopped？\"
\"TheyoungmanfromNewOrleans？Yes。IamPadreIgnazio。\"
\"Thenyouwillsavemeajourney。Ipromisedhimtodelivertheseintoyourownhands。\"
Thestrangergavethemtohim。
\"Abagofgold—dust，\"heexplained，\"andaletter。Iwroteitfromhisdictationwhilehewasdying。Helivedscarcelyanhourafterwards。\"
Thestrangerbowedhisheadatthestrickencrywhichhisnewselicitedfromthepriest，who，afterafewmomentsvainefforttospeak，openedtheletterandread：
MYDEARFRIEND，——Itisthroughnoman’sfaultbutminethatIhavecometothis。Ihavehadplentyofluck，andlatelyhavebeencountingthedaysuntilIshouldreturnhome。ButlastnightheavynewsfromNewOrleansreachedme，andItorethepressedflowertopieces。UnderthefirstsmartandhumiliationofbrokenfaithIwasrendereddesperate，andpickedaneedlessquarrel。ThankGod，itisIwhohavethepunishment。Mydearfriend，asIliehere，leavingaworldthatnomaneverlovedmore，Ihavecometounderstandyou。Foryouandyourmissionhavebeenmuchinmythoughts。Itisstrangehowgoodcanbedone，notatthetimewhenitisintended，butafterwards；andyouhavedonethisgoodtome。Isayoveryourwords，Contentmentwithrenunciation，andbelievethatatthislasthourIhavegainedsomethinglikewhatyouwouldwishmetofeel。
ForIdonotthinkthatIdesireitotherwisenow。Mylifewouldneverhavebeenofservice，Iamafraid。Youarethelastpersoninthisworldwhohasspokenseriouswordstome，andIwantyoutoknowthatnowatlengthIvaluethepeaceofSantaYsabelasIcouldneverhavedonebutforseeingyourwisdomandgoodness。Youspokeofaneworganforyourchurch。Takethegold—dustthatwillreachyouwiththis，anddowhatyouwillwithit。Letmeatleastindyinghavehelpedsomeone。Andsincethereisnoaristocracyinsouls——yousaidthattome；doyouremember？——perhapsyouwillsayamassforthisdepartingsoulofmine。I
onlywish，sincemybodymustgoundergroundinastrangecountry，thatitmighthavebeenatSantaYsabeldelMar，whereyourfeetwouldoftenpass。\"
\"’AtSantaYsabeldelMar，whereyourfeetwouldoftenpass。’\"Thepriestrepeatedthisfinalsentencealoud，withoutbeingawareofit。
\"Thosearethelastwordsheeverspoke，\"saidthestranger，\"exceptbiddinggood—byetome。\"
\"Youknewhimwell，then？\"
\"No；notuntilafterhewashurt。I’mthemanhequarrelledwith。\"
Thepriestlookedattheshipthatwouldsailonwardthisafternoon。Thenasmileofgreatbeautypassedoverhisface，andheaddressedthestranger。\"Ithankyou，\"saidhe。\"Youwillneverknowwhatyouhavedoneforme。\"
\"Itisnothing，\"answeredthestranger，awkwardly。\"Hetoldmeyousetgreatstoreonaneworgan。\"
PadreIgnazioturnedawayfromtheshipandrodebackthroughthegorge。
WhenhereachedtheshadyplacewhereoncehehadsatwithGastonVillere，hedismountedandagainsatthere，alonebythestream，formanyhours。Longridesandoutingshadbeenlatelysomuchhiscustom，thatnoonethoughttwiceofhisabsence；andwhenhereturnedtothemissionintheafternoon，theIndiantookhismule，andhewenttohisseatinthegarden。Butitwaswithanotherlookthathewatchedthesea；andpresentlythesailmovedacrossthebluetriangle，andsoonithadroundedtheheadland。Gaston’sfirstcomingwasinthepadre’smind；andasthevespersbellbegantoringinthecloisteredsilence，afragmentofAuber’splaintivetunepassedlikeasighacrosshismemory：
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ButforthereposeofGaston’ssoultheysangallthathehadtaughtthemof\"IlTrovatore。\"
ThusithappenedthatPadreIgnazioneverwenthome，butremainedcheerfulmasterofthedesirestodosothatsometimesvisitedhim，untilthedaycamewhenhewascalledaltogetherawayfromthisworld，and\"passedbeyondthesevoices，whereispeace。\"