nothing; turned his face to the moonlight and looked anxiously into his eyes.
"You see!" he said.
"Thank God for his mercy!" Juan returned.
"It is a miracle!" Padre Mateo declared.
"It seems no less," said Juan, his voice hushed in the great flood of his thankfulness.
"When did this come to you, Juan? When were you restored?" Padre Ignacio inquired.
"I heard Cristóbal give the alarm"
"Ah, Cristóbal; it was Cristóbal. I knew, and yet I did not know. And then?"
"I sprang from my bed, Padre Ignacio, forgetting for the moment that I was blind. You know it is the way of a man who has depended on his eyes to tell him things, to think of seeing first. I was alarmed at the thought of the dam, standing there in the dark. Cristóbal called you again; I rushed toward the window, I tore the bandage from my eyes, and I could see!"
"It is a miracle!" Padre Mateo whispered. "Juan Molinero, thank God for the devotion of a pure heart whose pleading and suffering brings back to you this inestimable treasure."
"Gertrudis! What has she done? Where is she? What—what"
"Patience, patience, my son," Padre Ignacio calmed him, hand on his shoulder to stop him as he stood ready to bound away to seek her.
"She is safe," Padre Mateo said.
"Where is she?" Juan demanded, his voice and
