There's room for more. Now, I suppose you'd like
to know how I come here. Wall, I've got a confession to make fust, and
seein' as you've been so nigh to death in the last few days, p'r'aps
you'll furgive me. The day after you left I went down to see the priest,
as agreed. I found him--well, I don't know as I'll tell everything, not
even to excuse myself. It's enough to say that he was half luny between
fear and remorse. He told me--I suppose he'd got to that state where he
had to tell somebody or bust--about leavin' you in the tunnel to die,
and bein' willin' after to kill you with his own hands--he was that mad.
But he felt terrible sorry, and said that if you told on him it would
serve him right; only that would mean ruin--ruin--ruin--a terrible
word, young man. And he's not a day over forty and calkilates to git out
of Californy with that there gold and be a big-bug in his native land. I
hesitated some time, fur I ain't no slouch at keepin' a promise; but in
the end I had to tell him. Why, a man's a criminal if he don't put
another man out of misery when he kin--"
"You did quite right," interrupted Roldan. "I am glad that he was
punished, but I would not have any one punished for ever.
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