THE PEARLS OF LOBETO.                 29
whom their padre trusted was to them as sacred
and impersonal as the wooden saints of their re-
ligion.
IV.
The midnight stars watched over the mission.
Framed by the cross-shaped window sunk deep in
the adobe wall above the entrance, a mass of them
assumed the form of the crucifix, throwing a golden
trail full upon the Lady of Loreto, proud in her
shining pearls. The long, narrow body of the
church seemed to have swallowed the shadows of
the ages, and to yawn for more.
De la Vega, booted and spurred, his serape folded
about him, his sombrero on his head, opened the
sacristy door and entered the church. In one hand
he held a sack; in the other, a candle sputtering in
a bottle. He walked deliberately to the foot of the
altar. In spite of his self-control, he stood appalled
for a moment as he saw the dim radiance envelop-
ing the Lady of Loreto. He scowled over his
shoulders at the menacing emblem of redemption,
and crossed himself. But had it been the finger of
God, the face of Ysabel would have shone between.
He extinguished his candle, and swinging himself
to the top of the altar, plucked the pearls from the
Virgin's gown and dropped them into the sack.   His