The man hesitated, and then said a few words, and the Indian replied in a strange jargon with peculiar aspirated syllables.
"He says," continued the interpreter, hesitatingly, "to ask if she is to come back."
Bryton's face flushed, as the priest looked at him curiously.
"I--my brother and I were lost once in the forest here. We--well, we were made to feel we had trespassed; but some one--a sort of missionary among them--made them lead us to the plain. It would have been better if my brother had never come back."
The priest noticed Bryton's hesitation; so did the Indian, for he walked direct to him, and pointed to the ring he wore, and looked from the ring to Bryton's face.
"Tell him," said the American, "that she is a man's wife, and lives in a lovely land."
"You see her--some day?" asked the Indian.
The Indian bent his head, and with a slight gesture as of farewell, turned and walked swiftly away from them, around the bend of the mountain.
"Your words have an unusual interest," said the priest, as they walked down toward the plain. "They suggest that the missionary might be the one they spoke of here as the Indian nun."
"This lady was not Indian," said Keith, decidedly. "Her skin was whiter than either yours or mine. The Indians called her Doña Espiritu! It was the only name they knew her by."
"It was the same, and her father's name was Estevan," said the priest, quietly.
"Yes, I know now. His name was Estevan, but--"
"And he was the man who died the awful death up there." And he pointed back to the temple.
"No!" Bryton stopped on the path and faced the priest, thus halting the entire procession at a point where a yawning gulf of a cañon reached to unseen depths below.
"For the love of Christ--señor!" screamed the priest, while the Mexicans in the rear clung to their burros and swore.
"The man who was killed left no child," persisted Bryton. "I heard the story."
"A daughter was born six months after his death--after the wife had taken the black veil of eternal renunciation of the world," declared the priest, solemnly. "Now, señor, for the love of God, will you let us find safer footing?"
"Oh, yes. Pardon me!" and Bryton continued thoughtfully along the trail to the plain below. When they reached a broader road where it was possible to ride abreast, he asked one more question.