Carmen Ariza Part 96

The girl did not speak. But her breath came more quickly, and her hand closed more tightly about his.

"Dearest one," he murmured, bending over the brown curls, "it is G.o.d's way, I guess. Perhaps in the years which I have spent here with you I have had the time and the opportunity to work out my salvation. I am sure that I have. But, though I strove in my way, I could not quickly acquire your spirituality. I could not at once shake loose those poisonous thoughts of a lifetime, which have at last become externalized in separation from all that I hold dearest in this life, you, my beloved girl, you." He buried his face in her luxuriant hair and strove to hold back the rush of scalding tears.

"It but shows how poisonous thoughts separate us from all that is good--even from G.o.d," he continued in a choked voice. "Oh, my sweet girl, I love you as it seems to me no human being could love another!

It has been so from that first day when, a mere babe, your wonderful eyes held me until I could read in them a depth of love for mankind that was divine." It did not seem to him that a mature man was speaking to a mere girl. She seemed, as always, ages beyond him in wisdom and experience.

Carmen reached up and wound her arms about his neck. He bent low and kissed her brow. Then he drew himself up quickly and resumed his broken talk.

"I believed at first that my salvation lay in you. And so it did, for from your clear thought I gleaned my first satisfying knowledge of the great principle, G.o.d. But alas! I could not seem to realize that between recognizing righteousness as 'right-thinking' and daily practicing it so as to 'prove' G.o.d there was a great difference. And so I rested easy in my first gleams of truth, expecting that they would so warm my soul that it would expand of itself out of all error."

She made as if to reply, but he checked her.

"I learned enough, I repeat, those first few months here to have enabled me to work out my salvation, even though with fear and trembling. But I procrastinated; I vacillated; I still clung to effete beliefs and forms of thought which I knew were bound to manifest in unhappiness later. I was afraid to boldly throw myself upon my thought. I was mesmerized. Yes, the great Paul was at times under the same mesmeric spell of human belief, even after he had seen the vision of the Christ. But he worked his way steadily out. And now I see that I must do likewise, for salvation is an individual experience. No vicarious effort, even of the Christ himself, can save a man. The principle is already given us. We must apply it to our problems ourselves. My unfinished task--scarcely even begun!--lies still before me. My environment is what I have made it by my own thought. I believe you, that I can enter another only as I externalize it through righteousness, right-thinking, and 'proving' G.o.d."

He paused and bent over the silent little figure nestling so quietly at his side. His throat filled. But he caught his breath and went on.

"You, Carmen, though but a child in years, have risen beyond me, and beyond this lowly encompa.s.sment. Why, when you were a mere babe, you should have grasped your padre Rosendo's casual statement that 'G.o.d is everywhere,' and shaped your life to accord with it, I do not know.

Nor do you. That must remain one of the hidden mysteries of G.o.d. But the fact stands that you did grasp it, and that with it as a light unto your feet you groped your way out of this environment, avoiding all pitfalls and evil snares, until to-day you stand at the threshold of another and higher one. So progress must ever be, I now realize. Up we must rise from one plane of human mentality to another, sifting and sorting the thoughts that come to us, clinging to these, discarding those, until, even as you have said, we learn at last instantly to accept those that mirror forth G.o.d, infinite, divine mind, and to reject those that bear the stamp of supposition."

"Padre," the girl said, lifting her beautiful face to his, "I have told you so often--when a thought comes to me that I think is not from G.o.d, or does not reflect Him, I turn right on it and kill it. You could do the same, if you would."

"a.s.suredly, child--if I would!" he replied in bitterness of heart. "So could all mankind. And then the millennium would be with us, and the kingdom of heaven revealed. The mesmeric belief in evil as an ent.i.ty and a power opposed to good alone prevents that. Destroy this belief, and the curtain will instantly rise on eternity."

His eyes struggled with hers, as he gazed long and wistfully into them. Lost in his impa.s.sioned speech, he had for the moment seemed to be translated. Then a surge of fear-thoughts swept him, and left him dwelling on the hazardous journey that awaited her. He wildly clutched her again to his side.

"Carmen--child--how can I let you go! So young, so tender! And that awful journey--two hundred miles of unknown jungle, to the far-off Nechi! And then the burning river, to Cartagena, where--where _he_ is!

And the States--G.o.d, what awaits you there!"

"Padre," she answered softly, "I shall not go unless it is right. If it is right, then G.o.d will take care of me--and of you."

Again she saw only the "right-best" thought, while he sat trembling before its opposite. And the opposite was as yet a supposition!

"Padre dear, there is no separation, you know. G.o.d is everywhere, and so there is no separation from good--is there?"

"Not in your thought, dearest child," he murmured huskily.

"Well, Padre dear, I am still with you, am I not? Can't you live one day at a time? That is what Jesus taught us. You are borrowing from to-morrow, and you have no right to do it. That's stealing. G.o.d says, 'Thou shalt not steal,' even from to-morrow."

Yes, she was still at his side. Perhaps she would not go, after all.

He was borrowing, and borrowing supposition. The thought seemed to lighten his load momentarily.

"Padre dear."

"Yes, _chiquita_."

"You have been thinking so many bad thoughts of late--I don't suppose you have had any good thoughts at all about Anita's little babe?"

"The babe?" in a tone of astonishment.

"Yes. You know, it is not blind. You promised me that every day you would just _know_ that."

The rebuke smote him sore. Aye, his crowning sin was revealed again in all its ugly nakedness. Egoism! His thought was always of his own troubles, his own longings, his own fears. Self-centeredness had left no room for thoughts of Ana's blind babe. And why was he now straining this beautiful girl to himself? Was it fear for her, or for himself?

Yet she gave but little heed to her own needs. Always her concern was for others, others who stumbled and drooped because of the human mind's false, unreal, undemonstrable beliefs and ignorance of the allness of G.o.d.

"Ah, child," he exclaimed penitently, "such love! How could I dare to hope ever to claim it! How can you say that you love me?"

"Why, Padre, I love the real 'you,' the 'you' that is going to be brought out, and that will become more and more clear, until at last it stands as the perfect reflection of G.o.d. Haven't I told you that, time and time again?"

"Yes, child. You love the ideal. But--to live with me--to be my--"

"Well, Padre, if we were not still human we would not be thinking that we were on earth. We have got to work out of this human way of thinking and living. And it has seemed to me that you and I could work out of it so much better together, you helping me, manifesting G.o.d's protection and care, and I helping you, as you say I can and do. And how can we live together and work together unless we marry? Ages make no difference! And time is only a human concept."

He would not try to explain her reasoning, her contempt for convention. It would be gratuitous. As for him, women had never const.i.tuted a temptation. He knew that he loved this simple, ingenuous girl with a tenderness of pa.s.sion that was wholly free from the dross of mesmerism. With that he remained content.

"Padre, if you think you must stay here for a little while, to work out your problem, why, I shall just _know_ that evil can not separate us. I don't like to even seem to go away without you. But--it will be only seeming, after all, won't it? G.o.d's children can not really be separated--never!"

She was still paying faithful tribute to her vision of the spiritual universe. And how her words comforted him! How like a benison they flowed over his drooping spirits!

"And now, Padre dear," she said, rising from the bench,--"we have done all we could--left everything with G.o.d--haven't we? I must go now, for madre Maria told me to come back soon. She needs me."

"Don't--no, not yet! Wait--Carmen! Sing for me--just once more! Sing again the sweet melody that I heard when I awoke from the fever that day long ago!"

He drew her unresisting to his side. Nestling close against him, her head resting on his shoulder and her hand in his, she sang again the song that had seemed to lift him that distant day far, far above the pitiful longings and strivings of poor humanity, even unto the gates of the city of eternal harmony.

She finished, and the last clear, sweet note echoed through the musty room and died among the black rafters overhead. A holy silence fell upon them as they sat, hand in hand, facing the future. Hot tears were streaming down the man's cheeks. They fell sparkling like drops of dew upon her brown curls. But he made no complaint. The girl, obedient to the vision, was reaping her reward. He, timid, wavering, doubting, was left, still pecking at the sh.e.l.l of his dreary environment. It was but the working of the infinite law of cause and effect. But did he imagine that out in the world she would not still find tribulation, even as the Saviour had said? Aye, she would, in abundance! But she leaned on her sustaining G.o.d. Her Christ had overcome the world. And so should she. She had already pa.s.sed through such fiery trials that he knew no contrary belief in evil now could weaken or counterbalance her supreme confidence in immanent good.

"Padre dear."

"_Chiquita_."

"If I have to go and leave you, will you promise me that you will act your knowledge of the Christ-principle and work out your problem, so that you may come to me soon?"

The tug at his heartstrings brought a moan to his lips. He smothered it. "Yes, _chiquita_."

"And--you will keep your promise about Anita's babe?"

"Yes."

She rose and, still holding his hand, led him down the hill and to Rosendo's house.

Throughout the remainder of that feverishly busy day the priest clung to the girl like a shadow. They talked together but little, for she was in constant demand to help her foster-mother in the preparations for the long journey. But Jose was ever at her side. Again and again he would seize her hand and press it to his burning lips. Again and again he would stroke her soft hair, or stretch out his hand to touch her dress as she pa.s.sed him. Always when she glanced up at him the same sweet, compa.s.sionate smile glowed on her face. When she left the house, he followed. When she bent over the ash-strewn fireplace, or washed the few plain dishes, he sought to share her employment; and, when gently, lovingly repulsed, sat dully, with his yearning eyes riveted upon her. Rosendo saw him, and forgot his own sorrow in pity for the suffering priest.

The preparations carried the toilers far into the night. But at length the last bundle was strapped to its _siete_, the last plan discussed and agreed upon, and the two Americans had thrown themselves upon their cots for a brief rest before dawn. Rosendo took Jose aside, while Dona Maria and Carmen sought their beds.

"Fernando sends Juan to Bodega Central at daybreak," the old man said.

"All has been kept secret. No one suspects our plans. Maria remains here with you until I return. Then we may go to the _hacienda_ of Don Nicolas, on the Boque. I shall tell him to have it in readiness on my return. I shall probably not get back to Simiti for two months. If, as you say, you still think best not to go with the Americans and the girl, what will you do here? The people are much divided. Some say they intend to ask the Bishop to remove you. _Bien_, will you not decide to go?"

Jose could not make audible reply. He shook his head, and waved Rosendo away. Then, taking a chair, he went into the sleeping room and sat down at the bedside of the slumbering girl. Reaching over, he took her hand.