new to him, turned for relief to the dispatch and opened it. In an instant it drove all other thoughts from his mind. Its few words were from Dumphy and ran, characteristically, as follows:
"Gabriel Conroy arrested for murder of Victor Ramirez. What do you propose? Answer"
Arthur rose to his feet.
"When does the up stage pass through San Geronimo?" he asked hurriedly.
"At midnight!" returned Padre Felipe, "Surely—my son, you do not intend—"
"And it is now nine o'clock," continued Arthur, consulting his watch. "Can you procure me a fresh horse? It is of the greatest importance, Father," he added recovering his usual frankness.
"Ah! it is urgent!—it is a matter—" suggested the Padre gently.
"Of life and death!" responded Arthur gravely.
Father Felipe rang a bell and gave some directions to a servant, while Arthur, seating himself at the table, wrote an answer to the dispatch.
"I can trust you to send it as soon as possible to the telegraph office," he said, handing it to Father Felipe. The Padre took it in his hand, but glanced anxiously at Arthur.
"And Donna Maria?" he said hesitatingly—"you have not seen her yet! Surely you will stop at the Blessed Fisherman, if only for a moment, eh?" Arthur drew his riding coat and cape over his shoulders with a mischievous smile.
"I am afraid not, Father; I shall trust to you to explain that I was recalled suddenly, and that I had not time to call; knowing the fascinations of your society, Father, she will not begrudge the few moments I have spent with you." Before Father Felipe could reply the servant entered with the announcement that the horse was ready.
"Good-night, Father Felipe," said Arthur, pressing the priest's hands warmly with every trace of his former suspiciousness gone. "Good-night. A thousand thanks for the horse. In speeding the parting guest," he added gravely, " you have perhaps done more for the health of my soul than you imagine. Good-night. Adios!"
With a light laugh in his ears, the vision of a graceful, erect figure waving a salute from a phantom steed, an inward rush of the cold gray fog, and the muffled clatter of hoofs over the moldy and mossy marbles in the church-yard, Father Felipe parted from his guest. He uttered a characteristic adjuration, took a pinch of snuff, and, closing the door, picked up the card of the gallant Col. Starbottle and tossed it in the fire.
But the perplexities of the Holy Father ceased not with the night. At an early hour the next morning, Donna Maria Sepulvida appeared before him at breakfast, suspicious, indignant and irate.
"Tell me, Father Felipe," she said hastily, "did the Don Arturo pass the night here ?"
"Truly no, my daughter," answered the Padre cautiously. "He was here but for a little—"
"And he went away when?" interrupted Donna Maria.
"At nine."
"And where ?" continued Donna Maria with a rising color.
"To San Francisco, my child, it was business of great importance; but sit down, sit, little one! this impatience is of the devil, daughter, you must calm yourself."
"And do you know, Father Felipe, that he went away without coming near me?" continued Donna Maria in a higher key, scarcely heeding her ghostly confessor.
"Possibly, most possibly! But he received a dispatch—it was of the greatest importance."
"A dispatch!" repeated Donna Maria, scornfully, "truly from whom?"
"I know not, my child," said Father Felipe, gazing at the pink cheeks, indignant eyes, and slightly swollen eyelids of his visitor—"this impatience, this anger is most unseemly !"
"Was it from Mr. Dumphy?" reiterated Donna Maria, stamping her little foot!
Father Felipe drew back his chair. Through what unhallowed spell had this woman, once the meekest and humblest of wives, become the shrillest and most shrewish of widows? Was she about to revenge herself on Arthur for her long suffering with the late Don Jose? Father Felipe pitied Arthur now and prospectively.
"Are you going to tell me? " said Donna Maria tremulously, with alarming symptoms of hysteria.
"I believe it was from Mr. Dumphy," stammered Padre Felipe. "At least the answer Don Arturo gave me to send in reply—only three words, 'I will return at once,' was addressed to Mr. Dumphy. But I know not what was the message he received."
