She had carried the
baby over to Juana's and left her there, that she might be free to
serve the Father's supper.
"I pray you tell her not," said Alessandro, under his breath; but it
was too late. Seeing the Father with her rosary in his hand,
Ramona exclaimed: --
"That, Father, is my most sacred possession. It once belonged to
Father Peyri, of San Luis Rey, and he gave it to Father
Salvierderra, who gave it to me, Know you Father Salvierderra? I
was hoping to hear news of him through you."
"Yes, I knew him,-- not very well; it is long since I saw him,"
stammered Father Gaspara. His hesitancy alone would not have
told Ramona the truth; she would have set that down to the secular
priest's indifference, or hostility, to the Franciscan order; but
looking at Alessandro, she saw terror and sadness on his face. No
shadow there ever escaped her eye. "What is it, Alessandro?" she
exclaimed. "Is it something about Father Salvierderra? Is he ill?"
Alessandro shook his head. He did not know what to say. Looking
from one to the other, seeing the confused pain in both their faces,
Ramona, laying both her hands on her breast, in the expressive
gesture she had learned from the Indian women, cried out in a
piteous tone: "You will not tell me! You do not speak! Then he is
dead!" and she sank on her knees.
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