“Don’t believe that,” said Crosby.  “It’s like their infernal earthquakes; there’s always a second shock, and a tidal wave to follow.  I pity Brace, Winslow, and Perkins if they get caught in it.”

There seemed to be some reason for his skepticism, for later the calm of the Mission Garden was broken upon by the monotonous tread of banded men on the shell-strewn walks, and the door of the refectory opened to the figure of Senor Perkins.  A green silk sash across his breast, a gold-laced belt, supporting a light dress-sword and a pair of pistols, buckled around the jaunty waist of his ordinary black frock-coat, were his scant martial suggestions.  But his hat, albeit exchanged for a soft felt one, still reposed on the back of his benevolent head, and seemed to accent more than ever the contrast between his peaceful shoulders and the military smartness of his lower figure.  He bowed with easy politeness to the assembled fugitives; but before he could address them, Father Esteban had risen to his feet,—­

“I thought that this house, at least, was free from the desecrating footsteps of lawlessness and impiety,” said the priest sternly.  “How dare you enter here?”

“Nothing but the desire to lend my assistance to the claims of beauty, innocence, helplessness, and—­if you will allow me to add,” with a low bow to the priest—­“sanctity, caused this intrusion.  For I regret to say that, through the ill-advised counsels of some of my fellow-patriots, the Indian tribes attached to this Mission are in revolt, and threaten even this sacred building.”

“It is false!” said Father Esteban indignantly.  “Even under the accursed manipulation of your emissaries, the miserable heathen would not dare to raise a parricidal hand against the Church that fostered him!”

Senor Perkins smiled gently, but sadly.

“Your belief, reverend sir, does you infinite credit.  But, to save time, let me give way to a gentleman who, I believe, possesses your confidence.  He will confirm my statement.”

He drew aside, and allowed Hurlstone, who had been standing unperceived behind, to step forward.  The Padre uttered an exclamation of pleasure.  Miss Keene colored quickly.  Hurlstone cast a long and lingering glance at her, which seemed to the embarrassed girl full of a new, strange meaning, and then advanced quickly with outstretched hands towards Father Esteban.

“He speaks truly,” he said, hurriedly, “and in the interests of humanity alone.  The Indians have been tampered with treacherously, against his knowledge and consent.  He only seeks now to prevent the consequences of this folly by placing you and these ladies out of reach of harm aboard of the Excelsior.”

“A very proper and excellent idea,” broke in Mrs. Brimmer, with genteel precision.  “You see these people evidently recognize the fact of Mr. Brimmer’s previous ownership of the Excelsior, and the respect that is due to him.  I, for one, shall accept the offer, and insist upon Miss Chubb accompanying me.”