honorable position in New York.  One night I entered a theater devoted to burlesque opera and the exhibition of a popular actress, known as the Western Thalia, whose beautiful and audaciously draped figure was the talk of the town.  I recognized my wife in this star of nudity; more than that, she recognized me.  The next day, in addition to the usual notice, the real name of the actress was given in the morning papers, with a sympathizing account of her romantic and unfortunate marriage.  I renounced my position, and, taking advantage of an offer from an old friend in California, resolved to join him secretly there.  My mother had died broken-hearted; I was alone in the world.  But my wife discovered my intention; and when I reached Callao, I heard that she had followed me, by way of the Isthmus of Panama, and that probably she would anticipate me in Mazatlan, where we were to stop.  The thought of suicide haunted me during the rest of that horrible voyage; only my belief that she would make it appear as a tacit confession of my guilt saved me from that last act of weakness.”

He stopped and shuddered.  Padre Esteban again laid his hand softly upon him.

“It was God who spared you that sacrifice of soul and body,” he said gently.

“I thought it was God that suggested to me to take the simulation of that act the means of separating myself from her forever.  When we neared Mazatlan, I conceived the idea of hiding myself in the hold of the Excelsior until she had left that port, in the hope that it would be believed that I had fallen overboard.  I succeeded in secreting myself, but was discovered at the same time that the unexpected change in the ship’s destination rendered concealment unnecessary.  As we did not put in at Mazatlan, nobody suspected my discovery in the hold to be anything but the accident that I gave it out to be.  I felt myself saved the confrontation of the woman at Mazatlan; but I knew she would pursue me to San Francisco.

“The strange dispensation of Providence that brought us into this unknown port gave me another hope of escape and oblivion.  While you and the Commander were boarding the Excelsior, I slipped from the cabin-window into the water; I was a good swimmer, and reached the shore in safety.  I concealed myself in the ditch of the Presidio until I saw the passengers’ boats returning with them, when I sought the safer shelter of this Mission.  I made my way through a gap in the hedge and lay under your olive-trees, hearing the voices of my companions, beyond the walls, till past midnight.  I then groped my way along the avenue of pear-trees till I came to another wall, and a door that opened to my accidental touch.  I entered, and found myself here.  You know the rest.”

He had spoken with the rapid and unpent fluency of a man who cared more to relieve himself of an oppressive burden than to impress his auditor; yet the restriction of a foreign tongue had checked repetition or verbosity.  Without imagination he had been eloquent; without hopefulness he had been convincing.  Father Esteban rose, holding both his hands.