"BretHarte-LegendsAndTales" - читать интересную книгу автора (Harte Bret)

For there can be none lack such diligence in the True Faith, but
may see that even the conversion of these pitiful salvages hath a
meaning. As the blessed St. Ignatius discreetly observes,"
continued Father Jose, clearing his throat and slightly elevating
his voice, "'the heathen is given to the warriors of Christ, even
as the pearls of rare discovery which gladden the hearts of
shipmen.' Nay, I might say--"

But here the stranger, who had been wrinkling his brows and
twisting his mustaches with well-bred patience, took advantage of
an oratorical pause:--

"It grieves me, Sir Priest, to interrupt the current of your
eloquence as discourteously as I have already broken your
meditations; but the day already waneth to night. I have a matter
of serious import to make with you, could I entreat your cautious
consideration a few moments."

Father Jose hesitated. The temptation was great, and the prospect
of acquiring some knowledge of the Great Enemy's plans not the
least trifling object. And if the truth must be told, there was a
certain decorum about the stranger that interested the Padre.
Though well aware of the Protean shapes the Arch-Fiend could
assume, and though free from the weaknesses of the flesh, Father
Jose was not above the temptations of the spirit. Had the Devil
appeared, as in the case of the pious St. Anthony, in the likeness
of a comely damsel, the good Father, with his certain experience of
the deceitful sex, would have whisked her away in the saying of a
paternoster. But there was, added to the security of age, a grave
sadness about the stranger,--a thoughtful consciousness as of being
at a great moral disadvantage,--which at once decided him on a
magnanimous course of conduct.

The stranger then proceeded to inform him, that he had been
diligently observing the Holy Father's triumphs in the valley.
That, far from being greatly exercised thereat, he had been only
grieved to see so enthusiastic and chivalrous an antagonist wasting
his zeal in a hopeless work. For, he observed, the issue of the
great battle of Good and Evil had been otherwise settled, as he
would presently show him. "It wants but a few moments of night,"
he continued, "and over this interval of twilight, as you know, I
have been given complete control. Look to the West."

As the Padre turned, the stranger took his enormous hat from his
head, and waved it three times before him. At each sweep of the
prodigious feather, the fog grew thinner, until it melted
impalpably away, and the former landscape returned, yet warm with
the glowing sun. As Father Jose gazed, a strain of martial music
arose from the valley, and issuing from a deep canyon, the good
Father beheld a long cavalcade of gallant cavaliers, habited like