The priest turned about and faced him squarely. "Yes," he said
deliberately, "and that I were a cardinal of Rome. Such words I have
never uttered to mortal before; but if I am not as other men, neither
are you as other lads. Some day you will be a Castro or an Alvarado; it
is written in your face. Perhaps something more, for changes may come
and your opportunities be greater. But I--I am no longer young; there is
no hope in California for me."
"Why do you not return to Spain?"
"I have written. They will not answer. In my youth I was wild. They
forced me to come here. I had no money. I was obliged to obey. I have
christianized a few hundred worthless savages who were better off in
their barbarism, and I have made myself a power among a few thousand men
of whom the outer world, the great world, knows nothing. My Mission is
the most prosperous in the Californias--and I--" he set and ground his
teeth.
Roldan thought of the gold. "When I am governor of the Californias, my
father," he said, "I shall send you back to Spain, for then I shall have
great influence--and much gold."
At the last word the priest's eyes flamed with so fierce a light that
Roldan shrank back repelled, feeling himself in the presence of a
passion of which he had no knowledge.
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