playing on them, as it it had been a mosquito swarm? Some said my men tired too high: but that was the English rascals' doing, for they got down on the tide beach. But, Señor Commandant, though Satan may have taught them thar trick, was it he that taught them to carry pikes a toot longer than yours?"
"Ah, well," said the bishop, "sacked are we; and Saint Domingo, as I hear, in worse case than we are; and Saint Augustine in Florida likewise; and all that is left for a poor priest like me is to return to Spain, and see whether the pious clemency of his Majesty, and of the universal Father, may not be willing to grant some small relief or bounty to the poor of Mary—perhaps—(for who knows?) to a translate to sphere of more peaceful labor one who is now old, Senors, and weary with many toils—Tita! fill our glasses. I have saved somewhat—as you may have done, Senors, from the general wreck; and for the flock, when I am no more, illustrious Senors, Heaven's mercies are infinite; new cities will rise from the ashes of the old, new mines pour forth their treasures into the sanctified laps of the faithful, and new Indians flock toward the life-giving standard of the Cross, to put on the easy yoke and light burden of the Church, and
"And where shall I be then? Ah, where? Fain would I rest, and fain depart. Tita! sling my hammock. Señors, you will excuse age and infirmities. Fray Gerundio, go to bed!"
And the Dons rose to depart, while the bishop went on maundering,—
"Farewell! Life is short. Ah! we shall meet in heaven at last. And there are really no more pearls?"
"Not a frail; nor gold either," said the intendant.
"Ah, well! Better a dinner of herbs where love is, than—Tita!"
"My breviary—ah! Man's gratitude is short-lived, I had hopedyou have seen nothing of the Señora Bovadilla?"
"No."
"Ah! she promised:—but no matter—a little trifle as a keepsake—a gold cross, or an emerald ring, or what not—I forget. And what have I to do with worldly wealth!—Ah! Tita! bring me the casket."
And when his guests were gone, the old man began mumbling prayers out of his breviary, and fingering over jewels and gold, with the dull greedy eyes of covetous old age.
"Ah!—it may buy the red hat yet!—Omnia Romæ venalia! Put it by, Tita, and do not look at it too much, child. Enter not into temptation. The love of money is the root of all evil; and Heaven, in love for the Indian, has made him poor in this world, that he may be rich in faith. Ah!—Ugh!—So!"
And the old miser clambered into his hammock. Tita drew the mosquito net over him, wrapt another round her own head, and slept, or seemed to sleep; for she coiled herself up upon the floor and master and slave soon snored a merry bass to the treble of the mosquitoes.
