THE CAPTAIN FOLLOWS HIS SHIP.
When Padre Esteban had finished reading the document he laid it down and fixed his eyes on the young man.Hurlstone met his look with a glance of impatient disdain.
"What have you to say to this?" asked the ecclesiastic, a little impressed by his manner.
"That as far as it concerns myself it is a farrago of absurdity.
If I were the person described there, why should I have sought you with what you call a lie of 'sentimental passion,' when I could have claimed protection openly with my SISTER PATRIOT," he added, with a bitter laugh.
"Because you did not know THEN the sympathy of the people nor the decision of the Council," said the priest.
"But I know it NOW, and I refuse to accept it.""You refuse--to--to accept it?" echoed the priest.
"I do." He walked towards the door."Before I go, let me thank you for the few hours' rest and security that you have given to one who may be a cursed man, yet is no impostor.But I do not blame you for doubting one who talks like a desperate man, yet lacks the courage of desperation.Good-by!""Where are you going?"
"What matters? There is a safer protection and security to be found than even that offered by the Council of Todos Santos."His eyes were averted, but not before the priest had seen them glaze again with the same gloomy absorption that had horrified him in the church the evening before.Father Esteban stepped forward and placed his soft hand on Hurlstone's shoulder.
"Look at me.Don't turn your face aside, but hear me; for Ibelieve your story."
Without raising his eyes, the young man lifted Father Esteban's hand from his shoulder, pressed it lightly, and put it quietly aside.
"I thank you," he said, "for keeping at least that unstained memory of me.But it matters little now.Good-by!"He had his hand upon the door, but the priest again withheld him.
"When I tell you I believe your story, it is only to tell you more.
I believe that God has directed your wayward, wandering feet here to His house, that you may lay down the burden of your weak and suffering manhood before His altar, and become once more a child of His.I stand here to offer you, not a refuge of a day or a night, but for all time; not a hiding-place from man or woman, but from yourself, my son--yourself, your weak and mortal self, more fatal to you than all.I stand here to open for you not only the door of this humble cell, but that of His yonder blessed mansion.You shall share my life with me; you shall be one of my disciples; you shall help me strive for other souls as I have striven for yours;the protection of the Church, which is all-powerful, shall be around you if you wish to be known; you shall hide yourself in its mysteries if you wish to be forgotten.You shall be my child, my companion, my friend; all that my age can give you shall be yours while I live, and it shall be your place one day to take up my unfinished work when it falls from these palsied hands forever.""You are mistaken," said the young man coldly."I came to you for human aid, and thank you for what you have granted me: I have not been presumptuous enough to ask more, nor to believe myself a fitting subject for conversion.I am weak, but not weak enough to take advantage of the mistaken kindness of either the temporal Council of Todos Santos or its spiritual head." He opened the door leading into the garden."Forget and forgive me, Father Esteban, and let me say farewell.""Stop!" said the ecclesiastic, raising himself to his full height and stepping before Hurlstone."Then if you will not hear me in the name of your Father who lives, in the name of your father who is dead I command you to stay! I stand here to-day in the place of that man I never knew--to hold back his son from madness and crime.
Think of me as of him whom you loved, and grant to an old man who might have had a son as old as you the right of throwing a father's protecting arm around you."There was a moment's silence.
"What do you want me to do?" said Hurlstone, suddenly lifting his now moist and glistening eyes upon the old man.
"Give me your word of honor that for twenty-four hours you will remain as you are--pledging yourself to nothing--only promising to commit no act, take no step, without consulting me.You will not be sought here, nor yet need you keep yourself a prisoner in these gloomy walls--except that, by exposing yourself to the people now, you might be compromised to some course that you are not ready to take.""I promise," said Hurlstone.
He turned and held out both his hands; but Father Esteban anticipated him with a paternal gesture of uplifted and opened arms, and for an instant the young man's forehead was bowed on the priest's shoulder.
Father Esteban gently raised the young man's head.
"You will take a pasear in the garden until the Angelus rings, my son, while the air is sweet and wholesome, and think this over.
Remember that you may accept the hospitality of the Council without sin of deception.You were not in sympathy with either the captors of the Excelsior or their defeated party; for you would have flown from both.You, of all your party now in Todos Santos, are most in sympathy with us.You have no cause to love your own people; you have abandoned them for us.Go, my son; and meditate upon my words.I will fetch you from yonder slope in time for the evening refection."Hurlstone bowed his head and turned his irresolute feet towards the upper extremity of the garden, indicated by the priest, which seemed to offer more seclusion and security than the avenue of pear-trees.He was dazed and benumbed.The old dogged impulses of self-destruction--revived by the priest's reproaches, but checked by the vision of his dead and forgotten father, which the priest's words had called up--gave way, in turn, to his former despair.