"
Ned had said no more. He was looking at Urrea intently. He was trying,
with all the power of his own mind and soul, to read this man's mind and
soul. He was trying to pierce through that Spanish armor of smiles and
gestures and silky tones and see what lay beneath. He sought to read the
real meaning of all these polite phrases. His long and powerful gaze
finally drew Urrea's own.
A little look of fear crept into Urrea's eyes, as the two antagonists
stared at each other. But it was only for a few minutes. Then he looked
away with a shrug and a laugh.
"Now I leave you," he said to the men, "and may the saints bring you
much happiness. Do not forget that to-morrow is Palm Sunday, and that it
is a good omen."
He went out, taking the torchbearers with him, and although it was dark
again in the vaulted church, the recruits sang a long time. Ned sat down
with his back against the wall, and he did not share in the general joy.
He remembered the look that had come into Urrea's eyes, when they met
the accusing gaze of his own.
After a while the singing ceased, and one by one the recruits fell
asleep in the close, stifling air of the place. Ned dozed an hour or
two, but awoke before dawn.
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