"Yes, but they were priests, after all, Felipe. I doubt if the hunt was made with both eyes open."
"No man but Pablo has entered this place in years, the memory of it is gone, the servants of my grandfather's day are in their graves long ago. Why, I can lead you to wine-barrels, Gabriel, that are full since my grandfather's time. Pablo is saving them in the hope that I'll step into my inheritance on a day, but that is a hope without a leaf. Do you think those barrels would have lain there full of wine if the way to them had been known?"
"It doesn't seem reasonable that they would, Felipe."
"No, it is out of all human probability to con's ider such a thing. Trust my sanctuary a day longer, then, Gabriel. Pablo has arranged for a friend to come tomorrow with news of the Americans. If they have not arrived at Monterey, if we must expect no help from that quarter, then it will be time to go."
"Very well," Gabriel agreed, "we will wait one day more." He folded Felipe's map hurriedly and put it in his pocket. "It is past ten, and my watch at the door."
There was no moon, yet in the peculiar clearness of those summer skies the stars were almost of tropical effulgence. The acacia trees, quick-growing, thick, and dark of foliage, clustered along the high adobe wall that once had enclosed the old Guiterrez' extensive grounds. Beyond the acacias,
