III
　　Dayshowedtheocean’ssurfacenolongerglassy，butlyinglikeamirrorbreathedupon；andtherebetweentheshortheadlandscameasail，grayandplainagainsttheflatwater。Thepriestwatchedthroughhisglasses，andsawthegradualsungrowstronguponthecanvasofthebarkentine。
　　Themessagefromhisworldwasathand，yetto—dayhescarcelycaredsomuch。Sittinginhisgardenyesterday，hecouldneverhaveimaginedsuchachange。Buthisheartdidnothailthebarkentineasusual。Books，music，palepaper，andprint——thiswasallthatwascomingtohim，someofitssavorhadgone；forthesirenvoiceofLifehadbeenspeakingwithhimfacetoface，andinhisspirit，deepdown，theloveoftheworldwasrestlesslyansweringit。YoungGastonshowedmoreeagernessthanthePadreoverthisarrivalofthevesselthatmightbebringingTrovatoreinthenickoftime。Nowhewouldhavethechance，beforehetookhisleave，tohelprehearsethenewmusicwiththechoir。Hewouldbeamissionary，too:aperfectlynewexperience。
　　"AndyoustillforgiveVerdithesinsofhisyouth？"hesaidtohishost。
　　"Iwonderifyoucouldforgivemine？"
　　"Verdihaslefthisbehindhim，"retortedthePadre。
　　"ButIamonlytwenty—five！"exclaimedGaston，pathetically。
　　"Ah，don’tgoawaysoon！"pleadedtheexile。Itwasthefirstunconcealedcomplaintthathadescapedhim，andhefeltinstantshame。
　　ButGastonwastoomuchelatedwiththeenjoymentofeachnewdaytocomprehendthePadre’ssoul。Theshaftsofanother’spainmighthardlypiercethebrightarmorofhisgaiety。Hemistookthepriest’sentreaty，foranxietyabouthisownhappyspirit。
　　"Stayhereunderyourcare？"heasked。"Itwoulddomenogood，Padre。
　　Temptationsticksclosertomethanabrother！"andhegavethatlaughofhiswhichhaddisarmedsevererjudgesthanhishost。"BynextweekI
　　shouldhaveintroducedsomesinorotherintoyourbeautifulGardenofIgnorancehere。ItwillbemuchsaferforyourflockifIgoandjointheotherserpentsatSanFrancisco。"
　　SoonafterbreakfastthePadrehadhistwomulessaddled，andheandhisguestsetforthdownthehillstogethertotheshore。And，beneaththespellandconfidenceofpleasant，slowridingandthelovelinessofeverything，theyoungmantalkedfreelyofhimself。
　　"And，seriously，"saidhe，"ifImissednothingelseatSantaYsabel，I
　　shouldlongfor——howshallIsayit？——forinsecurity，fordanger，andofallkinds——notmerelydangertothebody。Withinthesewalls，beneaththesesacredbells，youlivetoosafeforamanlikeme。"
　　"Toosafe！"TheseechoedwordsuponthelipsofthepalePadrewereawhispertoolight，toodeep，forGaston’sheedlessear。
　　"Why，"theyoungmanpursuedinaspiritthatwasbuthalflevity，"thoughIyieldoftentotemptation，attimesIhaveresistedit，andhereIshouldmisstheverychancetoresist。YourgardencouldneverbeEdenforme，becausetemptationisabsentfromit。"
　　"Absent！"Stilllighter，stilldeeper，wasthiswhisperthatthePadrebreathed。
　　"Imustfindlife，"exclaimedGaston，"andmyfortuneatthemines，I
　　hope。Iamnotabadfellow，Father。YoucaneasilyguessallthethingsIdo。Ihavenever，tomyknowledge，harmedanyone。Ididn’teventrytokillmyadversaryinanaffairofhonor。Igavehimamereflesh—wound，andbythistimehemustbequiterecovered。Hewasmyfriend。Butashecamebetweenme——"
　　Gastonstopped，andthePadre，lookingkeenlyathim，sawtheviolencethathehadnoticedinchurchpasslikeaflameovertheyoungman’shandsomeface。
　　"That’snothingdishonorable，"saidGaston，answeringthepriest’slook。
　　Andthen，becausethislookmadehimnotquiteathisease:"Perhapsapriestmightfeelobligedtosayitwasdishonorable。Sheandherfatherwere——amanowesnofidelitybeforeheis——butyoumightsaythathadbeendishonorable。"
　　"Ihavenotsaidso，myson。"
　　"Ididwhateverygentlemanwoulddo。"insistedGaston。
　　"Andthatisoftenwrong！"saidthePadre，gentlyandgravely。"ButI’mnotyourconfessor。"
　　"No，"saidGaston，lookingdown。"Anditisallover。Itwillnotbeginagain。SinceleavingNewOrleansIhavetraveledaninnocentjourneystraighttoyou。AndwhenImakemyfortuneIshallbeinapositiontoreturnand——"
　　"Claimthepressedflowrer？"suggestedthePadre。Hedidnotsmile。
　　"Ah，yourememberhowthosethingsare！"saidGaston:andhelaughedandblushed。
　　"Yes，"saidthePadre，lookingattheanchoredbarkentine，"Irememberhowthosethingsare。"
　　Forawhilethevesselanditscargoandthelandedmenandvariousbusinessandconversationsoccupiedthem。Butthefreightforthemissiononceseento，therewasnotmuchelsetodetainthem。
　　Thebarkentinewasonlyacoasterlikemanyotherswhichhadbeguntofilltheseaalittlemoreoflateyears，andpresentlyhostandguestwereridinghomeward。Sidebysidetheyrode，companionstotheeye，butwideapartinmood；withintheturbulentyoungfigureofGastondweltaspiritthatcouldnotbemoreatease，whilerevoltwassteadilykindlingbeneaththeschooledandplacidmaskofthePadre。
　　Yetstillthestrangenessofhissituationinsucharemote，resourcelessplacecamebackasamarvelintotheyoungman’slivelymind。Twentyyearsinprison，hethought，andhardlyawareofit！Andheglancedatthesilentpriest。Amansoevidentlyfondofmusic，oftheaters，oftheworld，towhompressedflowershadmeantsomethingonce——andnowcontentedtobleachuponthesewastes！Notevendesirousofabriefholiday，butfindinganoldorganandsomeoldoperasenoughrecreation！
　　"Itishisage，Isuppose，"thoughtGaston。Andthenthenotionofhimselfwhenheshouldbesixtyoccurredtohim，andhespoke。
　　"Doyouknow，Idonotbelieve，"saidhe，"thatIshouldeverreachsuchcontentmentasyours。"
　　"Perhapsyouwill，"saidPadreIgnacio，inalowvoice。
　　"Never！"declaredtheyouth。"Itcomesonlytothefew，Iamsure。"
　　"Yes。Onlytothefew，"murmuredthePadre。
　　"Iamcertainthatitmustbeagreatpossession，"Gastoncontinued；
　　"andyet——andyet——dearme！lifeisasplendidthing！"
　　"Thereareseveralwaystoliveit，"saidthePadre。
　　"Onlyoneforme！"criedGaston。"Action，men，women，things——tobethere，tobeknown，toplayapart，tositinthefrontseats；tohavepeopletelloneanother，’TheregoesGastonVillere！’andtodeserveone’sprominence。Why，ifIwasPadreofSantaYsabeldelMarfortwentyyears——
　　no！foroneyear——doyouknowwhatIshouldhavedone？Somedayitwouldhavebeentoomuchforme。Ishouldhaveleftthesesavagestoapastornearertheirownlevel，andIshouldhaveriddendownthiscanyonuponmymule，andsteppedonboardthebarkentine，andgonebacktomypropersphere。Youwillunderstand，sir，thatIamfarfromventuringtomakeanypersonalcomment。Iamonlythinkingwhataworldofdifferenceliesbetweennaturesthatcanfeelasalikeaswedouponsomanysubjects。Why，notsinceleavingNewOrleanshaveImetanyonewithwhomIcouldtalk，exceptoftheweatherandthebruteinterestscommontousall。Thatsuchaoneasyoushouldbehereislikeadream。"
　　"Butitisnotadream，"saidthePadre。
　　"And，sir——pardonmeifIdosaythis——areyounotwastedatSantaYsabeldelMar？Ihaveseenthepriestsattheothermissions。Theyare——
　　thesortofgoodmenthatIexpected。Butareyouneededtosavesuchsoulsasthese？"
　　"Thereisnoaristocracyofsouls，"saidthePadre，againwhispering。
　　"Butthebodyandthemind！"criedGaston。"MyGod，aretheynothing？Doyouthinkthattheyaregiventousfornothingbutatrap？Youcannotteachsuchadoctrinewithyourlibrarythere。Andhowaboutallthecultivatedmenandwomenawayfromwhosequickeningsocietythebrightestofusgrownumb？Youhaveheldout。Butwillitbeforlong？Areyounevertosaveanysoulsofyourownkind？Arenottwentyyearsofmescladosenough？No，no！"finishedyoungGaston，hotwithhisunforeseeneloquence；"Ishouldridedownsomemorningandtakethebarkentine。"
　　PadreIgnaciowassilentforaspace。
　　"Ihavenotoffendedyou？"askedtheyoungman。
　　"No。Anythingbutthat。YouaresurprisedthatIshould——choose——tostayhere。PerhapsyoumayhavewonderedhowIcametobehereatall？"
　　"Ihadnotintendedanyimpertinent——"
　　"Ohno。Putsuchanideaoutofyourhead，myson。YoumayrememberthatIwasgoingtomakeyouaconfessionaboutmyoperas。Letussitdowninthisshade。"
　　Sotheypicketedthemulesnearthestreamandsatdown。
　　IV
　　Youhaveseen，"beganPadreIgnacio，"whatsortofamanI——wasonce。
　　Indeed，itseemsverystrangetomyselfthatyoushouldhavebeenherenottwenty—fourhoursyet，andknowsomuchofme。Fortherehascomenooneelseatall"——thePadrepausedamomentandmasteredtheunsteadinessthathehadfeltapproachinginhisvoice——"therehasbeennooneelsetowhomIhavetalkedsofreely。InmyearlydaysIhadnothoughtofbeingapriest。Byparentsdestinedmeforadiplomaticcareer。Therewasplentyofmoneyand——andalltherestofit；forbyinheritancecametometheacquaintanceofmanypeoplewhosenamesyouwouldbelikelytohaveheardof。Cities，peopleoffashion，artists——thewholeofitwasmyelementandmychoice；andby—and—byImarried，notonlywhereitwasdesirable，butwhereIloved。ThenforthefirsttimeDeathlaidhisstaffuponmyenchantment，andIunderstoodmanythingsthathadbeenonlywordstomehitherto。Tohavebeenahusbandforayear，andafatherforamoment，andinthatmomenttoloseall——thisunblindedme。Lookingback，itseemedtomethatIhadneverdoneanythingexceptformyselfallmydays。Ilefttheworld。InduetimeIbecameapriestandlivedinmyowncountry。Butmyworldlyexperienceandmyseculareducationhadgiventomyopinionsaturntooliberalfortheplacewheremyworkwaslaid。Iwassoonadvisedconcerningthisbythoseinauthorityoverme。AndsincetheycouldnotchangemeandIcouldthem，yetwishedtoworkandtoteach，theNewWorldwassuggested，andI
　　volunteeredtogivetherestofmylifetomissions。Itwassoonfoundthatsomeonewasneededhere，andforthislittleplaceIsailed，andtothesehumblepeopleIhavededicatedmyservice。Theyarepastoralcreaturesofthesoil。Theirvineyardandcattledaysareapttobelikethesunandstormaroundthem——strongalikeintheirevilandintheirgood。Alltheiryearstheyliveaschildren——childrenwithmen’spassionsgiventothemlikedeadlyweapons，unabletomeasuretheharmtheirimpulsesmaybring。Hence，evenintheircrimes，theirheartswillgenerallyopensoontotheonegreatkeyoflove，whilecivilizationmakeslockswhichthatkeycannotalwaysfitatthefirstturn。Andcomingtoknowthis，"saidPadreIgnacio，fixinghiseyessteadilyuponGaston，"youwillunderstandhowgreataprivilegeitistohelpsuchpeople，andhowthesenseofsomethingaccomplished——underGod——shouldbringContentmentwithRenunciation。"
　　"Yes，"saidGastonVillere。Then，thinkingofhimself，"Icanunderstanditinamanlikeyou。"
　　"Donotspeakofmeatall！"exclaimedthePadre，almostpassionately。
　　"ButprayHeaventhatyoumayfindthethingyourselfsomeday——
　　ContentmentwithRenunciation——andneverletitgo。"
　　"Amen！"saidGaston，strangelymoved。
　　"Thatisthewholeofmystory，"thepriestcontinued，withnomoreoftherecentstressinhisvoice。"AndnowIhavetalkedtoyouaboutmyselfquiteenough。Butyoumusthavemyconfession。"Hehadnowresumedentirelyhishalf—playfultone。"Iwasjustalittlemistaken，yousee——
　　tooself—reliant，perhaps——whenIsupposed，inmyfirstmissionaryardor，thatIcouldgetonwithoutanyremembranceoftheworldatall。IfoundthatIcouldnot。AndsoIhavetaughttheoldoperastomychoir——suchpartsofthemasarewithinourcompassandsuitableforworship。AndcertainofmyfriendsstillaliveathomearegoodenoughtorememberthistasteofmineandtosendmeeachyearsomeofthenewmusicthatIshouldneverhearofotherwise。Thenwestudythesethingsalso。Andalthoughourorganisamiserableaffair，Felipemanagesverycleverlytomakeitdo。Andwhilethevoicesaresingingtheseoperas，especiallytheoldones，whatharmisthereifsometimesthepriestisthinkingofsomethingelse？Sothere’smyconfession！Andnow，whetherTrovatoreiscomeornot，IshallnotallowyoutoleaveusuntilyouhavetaughtallyouknowofittoFelipe。"
　　Thenewopera，however，haddulyarrived。AndasheturneditspagesPadreIgnaciowasquicktoseizeatonceuponthemusicthatcouldbetakenintohischurch。Someofitwasreadyfitted。BythatafternoonFelipeandhischoircouldhaverendered"Ah！sel’errort’ingombra"
　　withoutsliporfalter。
　　ThosewerestrangerehearsalsofIlTrovatoreuponthisCaliforniashore。
　　ForthePadrelookedtoGastontosaywhentheywenttoofastortooslow，andtocorrecttheiremphasis。Andsinceitwashot，thelittleErardpianowascarriedeachdayoutintothemissiongarden。There，inthecloistersamongthejessamine，theorangeblossoms，theoleanders，inthepresenceoftheroundyellowhillsandthebluetriangleofsea，theMisererewasslowlylearned。TheMexicansandIndiansgathered，swarthyandblack—haired，aroundthetinklinginstrumentthatFelipeplayed；andpresidingoverthemwereyoungGastonandthepalePadre，walkingupanddownthepaths，beatingtimeorsingingnowonepartandnowanother。AndsoitwasthatthewildcattleontheuplandswouldhearTrovatorehummedbyapassingvaquero，whilethesamemelodywasfillingthestreetsofthefar—offworld。
　　ForthreedaysGastonVillereremainedatSantaYsabeldelMar；andthoughnotawordofrestlessnesscamefromhim，hishostcouldreadSanFranciscoandthegold—minesinhiscountenance。No，theyoungmancouldnothavestayedherefortwentyyears！AndthePadreforboreurginghisguesttoextendhisvisit。
　　"Buttheworldissmall，"theguestdeclaredatparting。"Somedayitwillnotbeabletospareyouanylonger。Andthenwearesuretomeet。
　　Butyoushallhearfrommesoon，atanyrate。"
　　Again，asuponthefirstevening，thetwoexchangedafewcourtesies，moregracefulandparticularthanwe，whohavenottime，andfightnoduels，findworthaman’swhileatthepresentday。Forduelsaregone，whichisaverygoodthing，andwiththemacertaincarefulpoliteness，whichisapity；butthatisthewayintheeternalprofitandloss。SoyoungGastonrodenorthwardoutofthemission，backtotheworldandhisfortune；andthePadrestoodwatchingthedustaftertheriderhadpassedfromsight。Thenhewentintohisroomwithadrawnface。Butappearancesatleasthadbeenkeptuptotheend；theyouthwouldneverknowoftheelderman’sunrest。
　　V
　　TemptationhadarrivedwithGaston，butwasdestinedtomakealongerstayatSantaYsabeldelMar。Yetitwasperhapsaweekbeforethepriestknewthisguestwascometoabidewithhim。Theguestcouldbediscreet，couldwithdraw，wasnotatfirstimportunate。
　　Sailawayonthebarkentine？Awildnotion，tobesure！althoughfitenoughtoenterthebrainofsuchayoungscape—grace。ThePadreshookhisheadandsmiledaffectionatelywhenhethoughtofGastonVillere。Theyouth’shandsome，recklesscountenancewouldshineout，smiling，inhismemory，andherepeatedAuber’soldremark，"IsitthegoodLord，orisitmerelythedevil，thatalwaysmakesmehaveaweaknessforrascals？"
　　Sailawayonthebarkentine！Imaginetakingleaveofthepeoplehere——ofFelipe！Inwhatwordsshouldhetelltheboytogoonindustriouslywithhismusic？No，thiswasnotimaginable！Themerepartingalonewouldmakeitforeverimpossibletothinkofsuchathing。"Andthen，"hesaidtohimselfeachnewmorning，whenhelookedoutattheocean，"Ihavegiventothemmylife。Onedoesnottakebackagift。"
　　Picturesofhisdeparturebegantoshineandmeltinhisdriftingfancy。
　　HesawhimselfexplainingtoFelipethatnowhispresencewaswantedelsewhere；thatthanwouldcomeasuccessortotakecareofSantaYsabel—
　　—ayoungerman，moreuseful，andabletovisitsickpeopleatadistance。
　　"ForIamoldnow。Ishouldnotbelonghasinanycase。"Hestoppedandpressedhishandstogether；hehadcaughthisTemptationintheveryact。
　　NowhesatstaringathisTemptation’sface，closetohim，whiletheninthetriangletwoshipswentsailingby。
　　OnemorningFelipetoldhimthatthebarkentinewashereonitsreturnvoyagesouth。"Indeed。"saidthePadre，coldly。"Thethingsarereadytogo，Ithink。"Forthevesselcalledformailandcertainboxesthatthemissionsentaway。FelipelefttheroominwonderatthePadre’smanner。Butthepriestwaslaughingsecretlytoseehowlittleitwastohimwherethebarkentinewas，orwhetheritshouldbecomingorgoing。
　　Butintheafternoon，athispiano，hefoundhimselfsaying，"Othershipscallhere，atanyrate。"Andthenforthefirsttimeheprayedtobedeliveredfromhisthoughts。Yetpresentlyhelefthisseatandlookedoutofthewindowforasightofthebarkentine；butitwasgone。
　　Theseasonofthewine—makingpassed，andthepreservingofallthefruitsthatthemissionfieldsgrew。Lotionsandmedicineswasdistilledfromgardenherbs。Perfumewasmanufacturedfromthepetalsofflowersandcertainspices，andpresentsofitdespatchedtoSanFernandoandVentura，andtofriendsatotherplaces；forthePadrehadaspecialrecepit。Asthetimeranon，twoorthreevisitorspassedanightwithhim；andpresentlytherewasawordatvariousmissionsthatPadreIgnaciohadbeguntoshowhisyears。AtSantaYsabeldelMartheywhispered，"ThePadreisnotwell。"Yetherodeagreatdealoverthehillsbyhimself，anddownthecanyonveryoften，stoppingwherehehadsatwithGaston，tositaloneandlookupanddown，nowatthehillsabove，andnowattheoceanbelow。Amonghisparishionershehadcertaintroublestosoothe，certainwoundstoheal；ahomefromwhichhewasabletodrivejealousy；agirlwhomhebadeherloversetright。Butallsaid，"ThePadreisunwell。"AndFelipetoldthemthatthemusicseemednothingtohimanymore；heneveraskedforhisDixitDominusnowadays。
　　Thenforashorttimehewasreallyinbed，feverishwiththetwovoicesthatspoketohimwithoutceasing。"Youhavegivenyourlife，"saidonevoice。"And，therefore，"saidtheother，"haveearnedtherighttogohomeanddie。""YouarewinningbetterrewardsintheserviceofGod，"
　　saidthefirstvoice。"Godcanbebetterservedinotherplaces，"
　　answeredthesecond。AshelaylisteninghesawSevilleagain，andthetreesofAranhal，wherehehadbeenborn。Thewindwasblowingthroughthem，andintheirbrancheshecouldhearthenightingales。"Empty！
　　Empty！"hesaid，aloud。AndhelayfortwodaysandnightshearingthewindandthenightingalesinthefartreesofAranhal。ButFelipe，watching，onlyheardthePadrecryingthroughthehours，"Empty！Empty！"
　　Thenthewindinthetreesdieddown，andthePadrecouldgetoutofbed，andsoonbeinthegarden。Butthevoiceswithinhimstilltalkedallthewhileashesatwatchingthesailswhentheypassedbetweentheheadlands。Theirwords，fallingforeverthesameway，beathisspiritsore，likeblowsuponfleshalreadybruised。Ifhecouldonlychangewhattheysaid，hewouldrest。
　　"HasthePadreanymallforSantaBarbara？"askedFelipe。"Theshipboundsouthwardshouldbehereto—morrow。"
　　"Iwillattendtoit，"saidthepriest，notmoving。AndFelipestoleaway。
　　AtFelipe’swordsthevoiceshadstopped，asaclockfinishesstriking。
　　Silence，strainedlikeexpectation，filledthePadre’ssoul。Butinplaceofthevoicescameoldsightsofhomeagain，thewavingtreesatAranhal；
　　thenitwouldbeRachelforamoment，declaimingtragedywhileahousefuloffacesthatheknewbynamewatchedher；andthroughallthepanoramarangthepleasantlaughofGaston。ForawhileintheeveningthePadresatathisErardplayingTrovatore。Later，inhissleeplessbedhelay，sayingnowandthen:"Todieathome！SurelyImaybegrantedatleastthis。"Andhelistenedfortheinnervoices。Buttheywerenotspeakinganymore，andtheblackholeofsilencegrewmoredreadfultohimthantheirarguments。Thenthedawncameinathiswindow，andhelaywatchingitsgraygrowwarmintocolor，untilsuddenlyhesprangfromhisbedandlookedatthesea。Blueitlay，sapphire—huedanddancingwithpointsofgold，lovelyandluringasacharm；andoveritstrianglethesouth—boundshipwasapproaching。PeoplewereonboardwhoinafewweekswouldbesailingtheAtlantic，whilehewouldstandherelookingoutofthissamewindow。"MercifulGod！"hecried，sinkingonhisknees。"HeavenlyFather，Thouseestthisevilinmyheart！Thouknowestthatmyweakhandcannotpluckitout！Mystrengthisbreaking，andstillThoumakestmyburdenheavierthanIcanbear。"Hestopped，breathlessandtrembling。
　　Thesamevisionswasflittingacrosshisclosedeyes；thesamesilencegapedlikeadrycraterinhissoul。"Thereisnohelpinearthorheaven，"hesaid，veryquietly；andhedressedhimself。
　　VIItwasstillsoearlythatfewoftheIndianswerestirring，andoneofthesesaddledthePadre’smule。Felipewasnotyetawake，andforamomentitcameinthepriest’smindtoopentheboy’sdoorsoftly，lookathimoncemore，andcomeaway。Butthishedidnot，noreventakeafarewellglanceatthechurchandorgan。Hebadenothingfarewell，but，turninghisbackuponhisroomandhisgarden，rodedownthecanyon。
　　Thevessellayatanchor，andsomeonehadlandedfromhaandwastalkingwithothermenontheshore。Seeingthepriestslowlycoming，thisstrangerapproachedtomeethim。
　　"Youareconnectedwiththemissionhere？"heinquired。
　　"I——am。"
　　"PerhapsitiswithyouthatGastonVillerestopped？"
　　"TheyoungmanfromNewOrleans？Yes。IamPadreIgnacio。"
　　"Thenyou’llsavemeajourney。Ipromisedhimtodelivertheseintoyourownhands。"
　　Thestrangergavethemtohim。
　　"Abagofgold—dust，"heexplained，"andaletter。Iwroteitathisdictationwhilehewasdying。Helivedhardlyanhourafterward。"
　　Thestrangerbowedhisheadatthestrickencrywhichhisnewselicitedfromthepriest，who，afterafewmoments’vainefforttospeak，openedtheletterandread:
　　MydearFriend，——Itisthroughnoman’sfaultbutminethatIhavecometothis。Ihavehadplentyofluck，andlatelyhavebeencountingthedaysuntilIshouldreturnhome。ButlastnightheavynewsfromNewOrleansreachedme，andItorethepressedflowertopieces。UnderthefirstsmartandhumiliationofbrokenfaithIwasrendereddesperate，andpickedaneedlessquarrel。ThankGod，itisIwhohavethepunishment。Bydearfriend，asIliehere，leavingaworldthatnomaneverlovedmore，Ihavecometounderstandyou。Foryouandyourmissionhavebeenmuchinmythoughts。Itisstrangehowgoodcanbedone，notatthetimewhenitisintended，butafterward；andyouhavedonethisgoodtome。Isayoveryourwords，"ContentmentwithRenunciation，"andbelievethatatthislasthourIhavegainedsomethinglikewhatyouwouldwishmetofeel。
　　ForIdonotthinkthatIdesireitotherwisenow。Mylifewouldneverhavebeenofservice，Iamafraid。Youamthelastpersoninthisworldwhohasspokenseriouswordstome，andIwantyoutoknowthatnowatlengthIvaluethepeaceofSantaYsabelasIcouldneverhavedonebutforseeingyourwisdomandgoodness。Youspokeofaneworganforyourchurch。Takethegold—dustthatwillreachyouwiththis，anddowhatyouwillwithit。Letmeatleastindyinghavehelpedsomeone。Andsincethemisnoaristocracyinsouls——yousaidthattome；doyouremember？——
　　perhapsyouwillsayamassforthisdepartingsoulofmine。Ionlywish，mustmybodymustgoundergroundinastrangecountry，thatitmighthavebeenatSantaYsabeldidMar，whereyourfeetwouldoftenpass。
　　"’AtSantaYsabeldelMar，whereyourfeetwouldoftenpass。’"Thepriestrepeatedthisfinalsentencealoud，withoutbeingawareofit。
　　"Thosearethelastwordsheeverspoke，"saidthestranger，"exceptbiddingmegood—by。"
　　"Youknewhimwell，then？"
　　"No；notuntilafterhewashurt。I’mthemanhequarreledwith。"
　　Thepriestlookedattheshipthatwouldsailonwardthisafternoon。
　　Thenasmileofgreatbeautypassedoverhisface，andheaddressedthestrange。"Ithankyou。Youwillneverknowwhatyouhavedoneforme。"
　　"Itisnothing，"answeredthestranger，awkwardly。"Hetoldmeyousetgreatstoreonaneworgan。"
　　PadreIgnacioturnedawayfromtheshipandrodebackthroughthegorge。
　　WhenhehadreachedtheshadyplacewhereoncehehadsatwithGastonVillere，hedismountedandagainsatthere，alonebythestream，formanyhours。Longridesandoutingshadbeenlatelysomuchhiscustomthatnoonethoughttwiceofhisabsence；andwhenheresumedtothemissionintheafternoon，theIndiantookhismule，andhewenttohisseatinthegarden。Butitwaswithanotherlookthathewatchedthesea；andpresentlythesailmovedacrossthebluetriangle，andsoonithadroundedtheheadland。
　　WithitdepartedTemptationforever。
　　Gaston’sfirstcomingwasinthePadre’smind；and，asthevespersbellbegantoringinthecloisteredsilence，afragmentofAuber’splaintivetunepassedlikeasighacrosshismemory。
　　[Musicalscoreappearshere]
　　ForthereposeofGaston’syoung，world—lovingspirit，theysangallthathehadtaughtthemofIlTrovatore。
　　Afterthisday，FelipeandallthosewhoknewandlovedthePadrebest，sawserenityhadreturnedtohisfeatures；butforsomereasontheybegantowatchthosefeatureswithmorecare。
　　"Still，"theysaid，"heisnotold。"Andasthemonthswentbytheywouldrepeat:"Weshallhavehimyetformanyyears。"
　　Thustheseasonrolledround，bringingthetimefortheexpectedmessagesfromtheworld。PadreIgnaciowaswonttositinhisgarden，waitingfortheship，asofold。
　　"Asofold，"theysaid，cheerfully，whosawhim。ButRenunciationwithContentmenttheycouldnotsee；itwasdeepdowninhissilentandthankedheart。
　　OnedayFelipewenttocallhimfromhisgardenseat，wonderingwhytheringingofthebellhadnotbroughthimtovespers。Breviaryinlap，andhandsfoldeduponit，thePadresatamonghisflowers，lookingatthesea。Outthereamidthesapphire—blue，tranquilandwhite，gleamedthesailsofthebarkentine。Ithadbroughthimanewmessage，notfromthisworld；andPadreIgnaciowasslowlyborneinfromthegarden，whilethemission—belltolledforthepassingofahumansoul。