Carmen Ariza Part 133

"Monsignor, I close my eyes to all that is unlike G.o.d. He is everything to me. I know nothing but Him and His perfect manifestation."

Lafelle sat some moments in silence. The picture which he and the young girl formed was one of rare beauty and interest: he, weighted with years, white of hair, but rugged of form, with strikingly handsome features and kindly eyes--she, a child, delicate, almost wraith-like, glowing with a beauty that was not of earth, and, though untutored in the wiles of men, still holding at bay the sagacious representative of a crushing weight of authority which reached far back through the centuries, even to the Greek and Latin Fathers who put their still unbroken seal upon the strange elaborations which they wove out of the simple words of the Nazarene.

When the churchman again looked up and felt himself engulfed in the boundless love which emanated from that radiant, smiling girl, there surged up within him a mighty impulse to go to her, to clasp her in his arms, to fall at her feet and pray for even a mite of her own rare spirituality. The purpose which he had that morning formulated died within him; the final card which he would have thrown lay crushed in his hand. He rose and came and stood before her.

"The people believe you a child of the ancient Incas," he said slowly, taking her hand. "What if I should say that I know better?"

"I would say that you were right, Monsignor," she replied gently, looking up into his face with a sweet smile.

"Then you admit the ident.i.ty of your father?"

"Yes, Monsignor."

"Ah! And that is--?"

"G.o.d."

The man bent for a moment over the little white hand, and then immediately left the house.

CHAPTER 18

Monsignor Lafelle in his interview with Carmen had thrown out a hint of certain rumors regarding her; but the days pa.s.sed, and the girl awoke not to their significance. Then, one morning, her attention was attracted by a newspaper report of the farewell address of a young priest about to leave his flock. When she opened the paper and caught sight of the news item she gave a little cry, and immediately forgot all else in her absorption in the closing words:

"--and I have known no other ambition since the day that little waif from a distant land strayed into my life, lighting the dead lamp of my faith with the torch of her own flaming spirituality.

She said she had a message for the people up here. Would to G.o.d she might know that her message had borne fruit!"

The newspaper slipped from the girl's hands to the floor. Her eyes, big and shining, stared straight before her. "And I will lead the blind by a way that they know not--" she murmured.

The telephone rang. It was Miss Wall, ready now for the postponed ride. Carmen clapped her hands and sang for joy as she summoned the car and made her preparations. "We'll go over to his church," she said aloud. "We'll find him!" She hurried back to the newspaper to get the address of the church from which he had spoken the preceding day.

"They will know where he is," she said happily. "Oh, isn't it just wonderful!"

A few minutes later, with Miss Wall at her side, she was speeding to the distant suburb where the little church was located.

"We are going to find a priest," she said simply. "Oh, you mustn't ask me any questions! Mrs. Hawley-Crowles doesn't like to have me talk about certain things, and so I can't tell you."

Miss Wall glanced at her in wonder. But the happy, smiling countenance disarmed suspicion.

"Now tell me," Carmen went on, "tell me about yourself. I'm a missionary, you know," she added, thinking of Father Waite.

"A missionary! Well, are you trying to convert the society world?"

"Yes, by Christianity--not by what the missionaries are now teaching in the name of Christianity. I'll tell you all about it some day. Now tell me, why are you unhappy? Why is your life pitched in such a minor key? Perhaps, together, we can change it to a major."

Miss Wall could not help joining in the merry laugh. Then her face grew serious. "I am unhappy," she said, "because I have arrived nowhere."

Carmen looked at her inquiringly. "Well," she said, "that shows you are on the wrong track, doesn't it?"

"I'm tired of life--tired of everything, everybody!" Miss Wall sank back into the cushions with her lips pursed and her brow wrinkled.

"No, you are not tired of life," said Carmen quietly; "for you do not know what life is."

"No, I suppose not," replied the weary woman. "Do you?" she asked abruptly.

"Yes, it is G.o.d."

"Oh, don't mention that name, nor quote Scripture to me!" cried the woman, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "I've had that stuff preached at me until it turned my stomach! I hope you are not an emotional, weepy religionist. Let's not talk about that subject. I'm heartily sick of it!"

"All right," replied Carmen cheerily. "Padre Jose used to say--"

"Who's he?" demanded Miss Wall, somewhat curtly.

"Oh, he is a priest--"

"A priest! Dear me! do you constantly a.s.sociate with priests, and talk religion?"

The young girl laughed. "Well," she responded, "I've had a good deal to do with both."

"And are you any better for it?"

"Oh, yes--lots!" she said quickly.

The woman regarded her with curiosity. "Tell me something about your life," she said. "They say you are a princess."

"Surely I am a princess," returned Carmen, laughing merrily. "Listen; I will tell you about big, glorious Simiti, and the wonderful castle I lived in there, and about my Prime Minister, Don Rosendo, and--well, listen, and then judge for yourself if I am not of royal extraction!"

Laughing again up into the mystified face of Miss Wall, the enthusiastic girl began to tell about her former life in far-off Guamoco.

As she listened, the woman's eyes grew wide with interest. At times she voiced her astonishment in sudden exclamations. And when the girl concluded her brief recital, she bent upon the sparkling face a look of mingled wonder and admiration. "Goodness! After going through all that, how can you be so happy now? And with all your kin down there in that awful war! Why--!"

"Don't you think I am a princess now?" Carmen asked, smiling up at her.

"I think you are a marvel!" was the emphatic answer.

"And--you don't want to know what it was that kept me through it all, and that is still guiding me?" The bright, animated face looked so eagerly, so lovingly, into the world-scarred features of her companion.

"Not if you are going to talk religion. Tell me, who is this priest you are seeking to-day, and why have you come to see him?"

"Father Waite. He is the one who found me--when I got lost--and took me to my friends."

The big car whirled around a corner and stopped before a dingy little church edifice surmounted by a weather-beaten cross. On the steps of a modest frame house adjoining stood a man. He turned as the car came up.

"Father Waite!" Carmen threw wide the door of the car and sprang out.

"Father Waite!" clasping his hands. "Don't you know me? I'm Carmen!"

A light came into the startled man's eyes. He recognized her. Then he stepped back, that he might better see her. More than a year had pa.s.sed since he had taken her, so oddly garbed, and clinging tightly to his hand, into the Ketchim office. And in that time, he thought, she had been transformed into a vision of heavenly beauty.