its squared sides, bridged the room across its width, not quite the height of Padre Ignacio's head from the floor. A man must remember this beam, as he must have in mind forever and unceasingly the obstacles of life, and not dash without a thought for his chamber door in the dark. He must have it in mind when he paced, hands at his back, head bowed in somber meditation, like a-penance which he could not for a moment forego. It was an obstacle in the current of serenity which a man forgot at his peril.
Now, as Padre Ignacio sat at supper with Captain del Valle, there was a red welt across his forehead, as if some one had given him a blow. Captain del Valle said nothing, although his eyes made inquiry with curious insistence. Padre Ignacio wet a napkin in wine and held it to the flaming excoriation.
"I forgot the beam that crosses my chamber," he said, contritely as if he had been discovered in some humiliating case. "I should have remembered, but a thing happened this evening that caused me great perturbation, and I inflict my own punishment, as a man must suffer always for his remissions."
Padre Ignacio smiled, dabbing the wet napkin to his hurt. A spare, tall man, almost frail, he seemed, in spite of the amplitude of his long brown gown of coarse serge which magnified his form. His face was long and narrow, and he was brown as sun and wind could turn him, even to the tonsure of his
