I
AtSantaYsabeldelMartheseasonwasatoneofthosemomentswhentheairrestsquietoverlandandsea。Theoldbreezesweregone；thenewoneswerenotyetrisen。Theflowersinthemissiongardenopenedwide；
nowindcamebydayornighttoshaketheloosepetalsfromtheirstems。
Alongthebasking，silent，many—coloredshoregatheredandlingeredthecrispodorsofthemountains。Thedusthunggoldenandmotionlesslongaftertheriderwasbehindthehill，andthePacificlaylikeafloorofsapphire，whereontowalkbeyondthesettingsunintotheEast。Onewhitesailshonethere。Insteadofanhour，ithadbeenfromdawntillafternooninsightbetweentheshortheadlands；andthePadrehadhopedthatitmightbetheshiphishomesickheartawaited。Butithadslowlypassed。Fromanarchinhisgardencloistershewasnowwatchingthelastofit。Presentlyitwasgone，andthegreatoceanlayempty。ThePadreputhisglassesinhislap。Forashortwhilehereadinhisbreviary，butsoonforgotitagain。Helookedattheflowersandsunnyridges，thenatthehugebluetriangleofseawhichtheopeningofthehillsletintosight。\"Paradise，\"hemurmured，\"neednotholdmorebeautyandpeace。ButIthinkIwouldexchangeallmyremainingyearsofthisforonesightagainofParisorSeville。MayGodforgivemesuchathought！\"
Acrosstheunstirredfragranceofoleandersthebellforvespersbegantoring。ItstonespassedoverthePadreashewatchedtheseainhisgarden。Theyreachedhisparishionersintheiradobedwellingsnearby。
Thegentlecirclesofsoundfloatedoutwarduponthesmooth，immensesilence——overthevinesandpear—trees；downtheavenuesoftheolives；
intotheplantedfields，whencewomenandchildrenbegantoreturn；thenoutofthelapofthevalleyalongtheyellowuplands，wherethementhatrodeamongthecattlepaused，lookingdownlikebirdsatthemapoftheirhome。Thenthesoundwidened，faint，unbroken，untilitmetTemptationintheguiseofayouth，ridingtowardthePadrefromtheSouth，andcheeredthestepsofTemptation’sjadedhorse。
\"Foraday，onesingledayofParis！\"repeatedthePadre，gazingthroughhiscloistersattheemptysea。
Onceintheyearthemother—worldrememberedhim。Onceintheyear，fromSpain，tokensandhome—tidingscametohim，sentbycertainbelovedfriendsofhisyouth。Abarkentinebroughthimthesemessages。Wheneverthusthemother—worldrememberedhim，itwaslikethetouchofawarmhand，adearandtendercaress；adistantlife，byhimlongleftbehind，seemedtobedrawingtheexilehomewardfromthesealienshores。Asthetimeforhislettersandpacketsdrewnear，theeyesofPadreIgnaciowouldbeoftenfixedwistfullyupontheharbor，watchingforthebarkentine。Sometimes，asto—day，hemistookothersailsforhers，buthershemistooknever。ThatPacificOcean，which，forallitshuesandjeweledmists，hecouldnotlearntolove，had，sincelongbeforehisday，beenfurrowedbythekeelsofSpain。Traders，andadventurers，andmenofGodhadpassedalongthiscoast，plantingtheircoloniesandcloisters；butitwasnothisocean。Intheyearthatwe，athinstripofpatriotsawayoverontheAtlanticedgeofthecontinent，declaredourselvesanindependentnation，aSpanishship，inthenameofSaintFrancis，wasunloadingthecenturiesofherowncivilizationattheGoldenGate。SanDiegohadcomeearlier。Then，slowly，asmissionaftermissionwasbuiltalongthesoftcoastwilderness，newportswereestablished——atSantaBarbara，andbyPointSanLuisforSanLuisObispo，whichlayinlandalittlewayupthegorgewhereitopenedamongthehills。Thustheworldreachedthesemissionsbywater；whileonland，throughthemountains，aroadledtothem，andalsotomanymorethatweretoodistantbehindthehillsforshipstoserve——aroughroad，longandlonely，punctuatedwithchurchtowersandgardens。FortheFathersgraduallysostationedtheirsettlementsthatthetravelermighteachmorningrideoutfromonemissionandbyeveningofaday’sfairjourneyrideintothenext。Alonely，rough，dangerousroad，butlovely，too，withanamelikemusic——ElCaminoReal。Likemusicalsowerethenamesofthemissions——SanJuanCapistrano，SanLuisReydeFrancia，SanMiguel，SantaYnes——theirverylistisasong。
Sothere，by—and—by，wasourcontinent，withthelocomotivewhistlingfromSavannahtoBostonalongitseasternedge，andonthewesternthescatteredchimesofSpainringingamongtheunpeopIedmountains。Thusgrewthetwosortsofcivilization——notequally。Weknowwhathashappenedsince。To—daythelocomotiveiswhistlingalsofromTheGoldenGatetoSanDiego；butstilltheoldmission—roadgoesthroughthemountains，andalongitthefootstepsofvanishedSpainaremarkedwithroses，andbrokencloisters，andthecrucifix。
Butthiswas1855。OnlythebarkentinebroughttoPadreIgnaciothesignsfromtheworldthatheoncehadknownandlovedsodearly。Asforthenewworldmakingarudenoisetothenorthward，hetrustedthatitmightkeepawayfromSantaYsabel，andhewaitedforthevesselthatwasoverduewithitspackagecontaininghissingleworldlyluxury。
Asthelittle，ancientbronzebellcontinuedswinginginthetower，itsplaintivecallreachedsomethinginthePadre’smemory。Softly，absently，hebegantosing。Hetookuptheslowstrainnotquitecorrectly，anddroppedit，andtookitupagain，alwaysincadencewiththebell。
[musicalscoreappearshere]
Atlengthheheardhimself，and，glancingatthebelfry，smiledalittle。
\"Itisaprettytune，\"hesaid，\"anditalwaysmademesorryforpoorFraDiavolo。Auberhimselfconfessedtomethathehadmadeitsadandputthehermitagebelltogowithit，becausehetoowasgrievedathavingtokillhisvillain，andwantedhim，ifpossible，todieinareligiousframeofmind。AndAubertouchedglasseswithmeandsaid——howwellI
rememberit！——’IsitthegoodLord，orisitmerelythedevil，thatmakesmealwayshaveaweaknessforrascals？’Itoldhimitwasthedevil。I
wasnotapriestthen。Icouldnotbesosurewithmyanswernow。\"AndthenPadreIgnaciorepeatedAuber’sremarkinFrench:\"’Est—celebonDieu，ouiest—cebienlediable，quiveuttonjoursquej’aimelescoquins？\"Idon’tknow！Idon’tknow！IwonderifAuberhascomposedanythinglately？Iwonderwhoissinging’Zerlina’now？\"
Hecastafarewelllookattheocean，andtookhisstepsbetweenthemonasticherbs，thejasminesandtheoleanderstothesacristy。\"Atleast，\"hesaid，\"ifwecannotcarrywithusintoexilethefriendsandtheplaceswehaveloved，musicwillgowhitherwego，eventoanendoftheworldsuchasthis。——Felipe！\"hecalledtohisorganist。\"CantheysingthemusicItaughtthemfortheDixitDominusto—night？\"
\"Yes，father，surely。\"
\"Thenwewillhavethat。And，Felipe——\"ThePadrecrossedthechanceltothesmall，shabbyorgan。\"Rise，mychild，andlisten。Hereissomethingyoucanlearn。Why，seenowifyoucannotlearnitfromasinglehearing。\"
Theswarthyboyofsixteenstoodwatchinghismaster’sfingers，delicateandwhite，astheyplayed。Thus，ofhisownaccord，hehadbeguntowatchthemwhenachildofsix；andthePadrehadtakenthewild，half—scared，spellboundcreatureandmadeamusicianofhim。
\"There，Felipe！\"hesaidnow。\"Canyoudoit？Slower，andmoresoftly，muchachomio。Itisaboutthedeathofaman，anditshouldgowithourbell。\"
Theboylistened。\"Thenthefatherhasplayeditatonetoolow，\"saidhe，\"forourbellringsthenoteofsol，orsomethingverynearit，asthefathermustsurelyknow。\"Heplacedthemelodyintherightkey——aneasythingforhim；andthePadrewasdelighted。
\"Ah，myFelipe，\"heexclaimed，\"whatcouldyouandInotdoifwehadabetterorgan！Onlyalittlebetter！See！abovethisrowofkeyswouldbeasecondrow，andmanymorestops。ThenwewouldmakesuchmusicashasneveryetbeenheardinCalifornia。Butmypeoplearesopoorandsofew！
AndsomedayIshallhavepassedfromthem，anditwillbetoolate。\"
\"Perhaps，\"venturedFelipe，\"theAmericanos——\"
\"Theycarenothingforus，Felipe。Theyarenotofourreligion——orofanyreligion，fromwhatIcanhear。Don’tforgetmyDixitDominus。\"
ThePadreretiredoncemoretothesacristy，whilethehorsethatbroughtTemptationcameoverthehill。
Thehourofservicedrewnear；andasthePadrewaitedheonceagainsteppedoutforalookattheocean；butthebluetriangleofwaterlaylikeapictureinitsframeofland，bareasthesky。\"Ithink，fromthecolor，though，\"saidhe，\"thatalittlemorewindmusthavebegunoutthere。\"
Thebellrangalastshortsummonstoprayer。Alongtheroadfromthesouthayoungrider，leadingapack—animal，ambledintothemissionanddismounted。Churchwasnotsomuchinhisthoughtsasfoodand，afterduedigestion，abed；butthedoorsstoodopen，and，aseverybodywaspassingwithinthem，morevarietywastobegainedbyjoiningthiscompanythanbywaitingoutsidealoneuntiltheyshouldreturnfromtheirdevotions。
Soheseatedhimselfinacornerneartheentrance，andafterabrief，jauntyglanceatthesunburned，shaggycongregation，madehimselfascomfortableasmightbe。Hehadnotseenafaceworthkeepinghiseyesopenfor。Thesimplechoirandsimplefold，gatheredforeven—song，paidhimnoattention——aroughAmericanboundforthemineswasbutanobjectofaversiontothem。
ThePadre，ofcourse，hadbeeninstantlyawareofthestranger’spresence。Tobeawareofunaccustomedpresencesisthesixthsensewithvicarsofeverycreedandheresy；andiftheparishislonelyandtheworshipersfewandseldomvarying，anewcomerwillgleamoutlikeanewbooktoberead。Andatrainedpriestlearnstoreadkeenlythefacesofthosewhoassembletoworshipunderhisguidance。ButAmericanvagrants，withnothoughtssaveofgold—digging，andanoverweeningilliteratejargonforspeech，hadlongceasedtointerestthispriest，eveninhisstarvationforcompanyandtalkfromtheoutsideworld；andthereforeaftertheintoninghesatwithhishomesickthoughtsunchanged，todrawbothpainandenjoymentfromthemusicthathehadsettotheDixitDominus。HelistenedtothetenderchorusthatopensWilliamTell；and，astheLatinpsalmproceeded，picturesofthepastrosebetweenhimandthealtar。Oneafteranothercamethesestrainshehadtakenfromoperasfamousintheirday，untilatlengththePadrewasmurmuringtosomemusicseldomlongoutofhisheart——nottheLatinversewhichthechoirsang，buttheoriginalFrenchwords:
\"Ah，voilemanenvie，Voilamonseuldesir:
Rendezmoimapatrie，Oulaissezmoimourir。\"
Whichmayberendered:
ButonewishIimplore，Onewishisallmycry:
Givebackmynativelandoncemore，Giveback，orletmedie。
Thenithappenedthathiseyefellagainuponthestrangernearthedoor，andheskaightwayforgothisDixitDominus。Thefaceoftheyoungmanwasnolongerhiddenbytheslouchingpositionhehadatfirsttaken。\"I
onlynoticedhisclothesatfirst，\"thoughtthePadre。Restlessnesswasplainuponthehandsomebrow，andviolencewasinthemouth；butPadreIgnaciolikedtheeyes。\"Heisnotsayinganyprayers，\"hesurmised，presently。\"Idoubtifhehassaidanyforalongwhile。Andheknowsmymusic。Heisofeducatedpeople。HecannotbeAmerican。Andnow——yes，hehastaken——Ithinkitmustbeaflower，fromhispocket。Ishallhavehimtodinewithme。\"AndvespersendedwithrosycloudsofeagernessdriftingacrossthePadre’sbrain。
II
Butthestrangermadehisownbeginning。Asthepriestcamefromthechurch，therebelliousyoungfigurewaswaiting。\"Yourorganisttellsme，\"hesaid，impetuously，\"thatitisyouwho——\"
\"MayIaskwithwhomIhavethegreatpleasureofspeaking？\"saidthePadre，puttingformalitytothefrontandhispleasureoutofsight。
Thestranger’sfacereddenedbeneathitssun—beatenbronze，andhebecameawareofthePadre’spalefeatures，moldedbyrefinementandtheworld。
\"Ibegyourlenience，\"saidhe，withagracefulandconfidentutterance，asofequaltoequal。\"MynameisGastonVillere，anditwastimeI
shouldberemindedofmymanners。\"
ThePadre’shandwavedapolitenegative。
\"Indeed，yes，Padre。Butyourmusichasamazedme。Ifyoucarriedsuchassociationsas——Ah！thedaysandthenights！\"——hebrokeoff。\"TocomedownaCaliforniamountainandfindParisatthebottom！TheHuguenots，Rossini，Herold——IwaswaitingforIlTrovatore。\"
\"Isthatsomethingnew？\"inquiredthePadre，eagerly。
Theyoungmangaveanexclamation。\"Thewholeworldisringingwithit！\"
hecried。
\"ButSantaYsabeIdelMarisalongwayfromthewholeworld，\"murmuredPadreIgnacio。
\"Indeed，itwouldnotappeartobeso，\"returnedyoungGaston。\"IthinktheComedieFrancaisemustberoundthecorner。\"
Athrillwentthroughthepriestatthetheater’sname。\"AndhaveyoubeenlonginAmerica？\"heasked。
\"Why，always——excepttwoyearsofforeigntravelaftercollege。\"
\"AnAmerican！\"exclaimedthesurprisedPadre，withperhapsatoneofdisappointmentinhisvoice。\"ButnoAmericanswhoareyetcomethiswayhavebeen——havebeen\"——heveiledthetoo—bluntexpressionofhisthought——\"havebeenfamiliarwithTheHuguenots，\"hefinished，makingaslightbow。
Villeretookhisunder—meaning。\"IcomefromNewOrleans，\"hereturned，\"andinNewOrleanstherelivemanyofuswhocanrecognizea——whocanrecognizegoodmusicwhereverwehearit。\"Andhemadeaslightbowinhisturn。
ThePadrelaughedoutrightwithpleasureandlaidhishandupontheyoungman’sarm。\"Youhavenointentionofgoingawayto—morrow，Itrust？\"
\"Withyourleave，\"answeredGaston，\"Iwillhavesuchanintentionnolonger。\"
ItwaswiththeairandgaitofmutualunderstandingthatthetwonowwalkedontogethertowardthePadre’sdoor。Theguestwastwenty—five，thehostsixty。
\"AndhaveyoubeeninAmericalong？\"inquiredGaston。
\"Twentyyears。\"
\"AndatSantaYsabelhowlong？\"
\"Twentyyears。\"
\"Ishouldhavethought，\"saidGaston，lookinglightlyatthedesertandunpeopIedmountains，\"thatnowandagainyoumighthavewishedtotravel。\"
\"WereIyourage，\"murmuredPadreIgnacio，\"itmightbeso。\"
Theeveninghadnowripenedtothelongafter—glowofsunset。Theseawasthepurpleofgrapes，andwine—coloredhuesflowedamongthehighshouldersofthemountains。
\"Ihaveseenasightlikethis，\"saidGaston，\"betweenGranadaandMalaga。\"
\"SoyouknowSpain！\"saidthePadre。
Oftenhehadthoughtofthisresemblance，butnevertillnowmetanyonetosharehisthought。ThecourtlyproprietorofSanFernandoandtheotherpatriarchalrancheroswithwhomheoccasionallyexchangedvisitsacrossthewildernessknewhospitalityandinheritedgentlemanners，sendingtoEuropeforsilksandlacestogivetheirdaughters；buttheireyeshadnotlookeduponGranada，andtheirearshadneverlistenedtoWilliamTell。
\"Itisquitesingular，\"pursuedGaston，\"howonenookintheworldwillsuddenlyremindyouofanothernookthatmaybethousandsofmilesaway。
Onemorning，behindtheQuaiVoltaire，anold，yellowhousewithrustybalconiesmademealmosthomesickforNewOrleans。\"
\"TheQuaiVoltaire！\"saidthePadre。
\"IheardRachelinValeriethatnight，\"theyoungmanwenton。\"Didyouknowthatshecouldsing，too。ShesangseveralversesbyanastonishinglittleJewviolon—cellistthatiscomeupoverthere。\"
ThePadregazeddownathisblitheguest。\"Toseesomebody，somebody，onceagain，isverypleasanttoahermit！\"
\"Itcannotbemorepleasantthanarrivingatanoasis，\"returnedGaston。
Theyhaddelayedonthethresholdtolookatthebeautyoftheevening，andnowthepriestwatchedhisparishionerscomeandgo。\"Howcanonemakecompanions——\"hebegan；then，checkinghimself，hesaid:\"Theirsoulsareassacredandimmortalasmine，andGodhelpsmetohelpthem。
Butinthisworlditisnotimmortalsoulsthatwechooseforcompanions；
itiskindredtastes，intelligences，and——andsoIandmybooksaregrowingoldtogether，yousee，\"headded，morelightly。\"Youwillfindmyvolumesasbehindthetimesasmyself。\"
Hehadfallenintotalkmoreintimatethanhewished；andwhiletheguestwasutteringsomethingpoliteaboutthenobilityofmissionarywork，heplacedhiminaneasy—chairandsoughtaguardienteforhisimmediaterefreshment。Sincetheyear’sbeginningtherehadbeennoguestforhimtobringintohisrooms，ortositbesidehiminthehighseatsattable，setapartforthegentefina。
SuchanotherlibrarywasnottheninCalifornia；andthoughGastonVillere，inleavingHarvardCollege，hadshutHoraceandSophoclesforeverattheearliestinstantpossibleunderacademicrequirements，heknewtheGreekandLatinnamesthathenowsawaswellasheknewthoseofShakspere，Dante，Moliere，andCervantes。Thesewereherealso；butitcouldnotbepreciselysaidofthem，either，thattheymadeapartoftheyoungman’sdailyreading。AshesurveyedthePadre’saugustshelves，itwaswithatouchofthehistrionicSoutherngravitywhichhisNortherneducationhadnotwhollyschooledoutofhimthathesaid:
\"IfearIamnoscholar，sir。ButIknowwhatwriterseverygentlemanoughttorespect。\"
ThepolishedPadrebowedgravelytothiscompliment。
Itwaswhenhiseyescaughtsightofthemusicthattheyoungmanfeltagainatease，andhisvivacityreturnedtohim。Leavinghischair，hebeganenthusiasticallytoexaminethetallpilesthatfilledonesideoftheroom。Thevolumeslaypiledandscatteredeverywhere，makingapleasantdisorder；and，asperfumecomesfromaflower，memoriesofsingersandchandeliersrosebrightfromtheprintednames。Norma，Tancredi，DonPasquale，LaVestale，dimlightsinthefashionsofto—day，sparkledupontheexploringGaston，conjuringtheradianthallsofEuropebeforehim。\"TheBarberofSeville！\"hepresentlyexclaimed。\"AndI
happenedtohearitinSeville。\"
ButSeville’snamebroughtoverthePadreanewrushofhomethoughts。
\"IsnotAndalusiabeautiful？\"hesaid。\"DidyouseeitinApril，whentheflowerscome？\"
\"Yes，\"saidGaston，amongthemusic。\"IwasatCordovathen。\"
\"Ah，Cordova！\"murmuredthePadre。
\"Semiramide！\"criedGaston，lightinguponthatopera。\"Thatwasaweek！\"
Ishouldliketoliveitover，everydayandnightofit！\"
\"DidyoureachMalagafromMarseillesorGibraltar？\"askedthePadre，wistfully。
\"FromMarseilles。DownfromParisthroughtheRhoneValley，youknow。\"
\"ThenyousawProvence！Anddidyougo，perhaps，fromAvignontoNismesbythePontduGard？ThereisaplaceIhavemadehere——alittle，littleplace——witholive—trees。Andnowtheyhavegrown，anditlookssomethinglikethatcountry，ifyoustandinaparticularposition。Iwilltakeyouthereto—morrow。IthinkyouwillunderstandwhatImean。\"
\"Anotherresemblance！\"saidthevolatileandhappyGaston。\"Webothseemtohaveaneyeforthem。But，believeme，Padre，Icouldneverstayhereplantingolives。Ishouldgobackandseetheoriginalones——andthenI’dhastenontoParis。\"
And，withavolumeofMeyerbeeropeninhishand，Gastonhummed:
\"’Robert，Robert，toiquej’aime。’Why，Padre，Ithinkthatyourlibrarycontainsnoneofthemassesandalloftheoperasintheworld！\"
\"Iwillmakeyoualittleconfession，\"saidPadreIgnacio，\"andthenyoushallgivemealittleabsolution。\"
\"Forapenance，\"saidGaston，\"youmustplayoversomeofthesethingstome。\"
\"IsupposeIcouldnotpermitmyselfthisluxury，\"beganthePadre，pointingtohisoperas，\"andteachthesetomychoir，ifthepeoplehadanyworldlyassociationswiththemusic。ButIhavereasonedthatthemusiccannotdothemharm——\"
Theringingofabellhereinterruptedhim。\"Infifteenminutes，\"hesaid，\"ourpoormealwillbereadyforyou。\"ThegoodPadrewasnotquitesincerewhenhespokeofa\"poormeal。\"Whilegettingtheaguardienteforhisguesthehadgivenorders，andheknewhowwellsuchorderswouldbecarriedout。Helivedalone，andgenerallysuppedsimplyenough，butnoteventheampletableatSanFernandocouldsurpasshisownonoccasions。
Andthiswasforhimindeedanoccasion！
\"Yourhalf—breedswillthinkIamoneofthemselves，\"saidGaston，showinghisdustyclothes。\"Iamnotfittobeseatedwithyou。\"Buthedidnotmeanthisanymorethanhishosthadmeanthisremarkaboutthefood。Inhispack，whichanIndianhadbroughtfromhishorse，hecarriedsomegarmentsofcivilization。Andpresently，afterfreshwaterandnotalittlepainstakingwithbrushandscarf，therecamebacktothePadreayoungguestwhoseeleganceandbearingandeaseofthegreatworldweretotheexiledpriestassweetaswashistraveledconversation。
Theyrepairedtothehallandtooktheirseatsattheheadofthelongtable。FortheSpanishcenturiesofstatelycustomlivedatSantaYsabeI
delMar，inviolate，feudal，remote。
Theyweretheonlypersonsofqualitypresent；andbetweenthemselvesandthegentederazonaspaceintervened。BehindthePadre’schairstoodanIndiantowaftuponhim，andanotherstoodbehindthechairofGastonVillere。Eachoftheseservantsworeonesinglewhitegarment，andofferedthemanydishestothegentefinaandrefilledtheirglasses。Atthelowerendofthetableageneralattendantwafteduponmesclados——thehalf—breeds。Therewasmeatwithspices，androastedquail，withvariouscakesandotherpreparationsofgrain；alsothebrownfresholivesandgrapes，withseveralsortsoffigsandplums，andpreservedfruits，andwhiteandredwine——thewhitefiftyyearsold。Beneaththequietshiningofcandles，fresh—cutflowersleanedfromvesselsofoldMexicanandSpanishmake。
Thereatoneendofthisfeastsatthewild，pastoral，gaudycompany，speakinglittleovertheirfood；andthereattheotherthepalePadre，questioninghisvisitoraboutRachel。Themerenameofastreetwouldbringmemoriescrowdingtohislips；andwhenhisguesttoldhimofanewplayhewasreadywitholdquotationsfromthesameauthor。AlfreddeVignytheyspokeof，andVictorHugo，whomthePadredisliked。Longafterthedulce，orsweetdish，whenitwasthecustomforthevaquerosandtherestoftheretainerstoriseandleavethegentefinatothemselves，thehostsatonintheemptyhail，fondlytalkingtohisguestofhisbygoneParisandfondlylearningofthelaterParisthattheguesthadseen。Andthusthetwolingered，exchangingtheirenthusiasms，whilethecandleswaned，andthelong—hairedIndiansstoodsilentbehindthechairs。
\"Butwemustgotomypiano，\"thehostexclaimed。Foratlengththeyhadcometoalustydifferenceofopinion。ThePadre，withearscriticallydeaf，andwithsmiling，unconvincedeyes，wasshakinghishead，whileyoungGastonsangTrovatoreathim，andbeatuponthetablewithafork。
\"Comeandconvertme，then，\"saidPadreIgnacio，andheledtheway。
\"DonizettiIhavealwaysadmitted。There，atleast，isrefinement。IftheworldhastakentothisVerdi，withhisstreet—bandmusic——Butthere，now！Sitdownandconvertme。Onlydon’tcrushmypoorlittleErardwithVerdi’shoofs。IbroughtitwhenIcame。Itisbehindthetimes，too。
And，oh，mydearboy，ourorganisstillworse。Soold，soold！TogetaproperoneIwouldsacrificeeventhispianoofmineinamoment——onlythetinklingthingisnotworthasoutoanybodyexceptitsmaster。Butthere！Areyouquitecomfortable？\"Andhavingseentohisguest’sneeds，andplacedspiritsandcigarsandanash—traywithinhisreach，thePadresathimselfcomfortablyinhischairtohearandexposethefalsedoctrineofIlTrovatore。
BymidnightalloftheoperathatGastoncouldrecallhadbeenplayedandsungtwice。Theconvertsatinhischairnolonger，butstoodsingingbythepiano。Thepotentswingandflowofrhythms，thetorrid，copiousinspirationoftheSouth，masteredhim。\"Verdihasgrown，\"hecried。
\"Verdiisbecomeagiant。\"Andheswayedtothebeatofthemelodies，andwavedanenthusiasticarm。Hedemandedeverynote。WhydidnotGastonrememberitall？Butifthebarkentinewouldarriveandbringthewholemusic，thentheywouldhaveitright！AndhemadeGastonteachhimwhatwordsheknew。\"’Nontiscorder，’\"hesang——\"’nontiscordardime。’Thatisgenius。Butoneseeshowtheworldmoveswhenoneisoutofit。’A
nostrimontiritorneremo’；hometoourmountains。Ah，yes，thereisgeniusagain。\"Andtheexilesighedandhisspiritvoyagedtodistantplaces，whileGastoncontinuedbrilliantlywiththemusicofthefinalscene。
Thenthehostrememberedhisguest。\"Iamashamedofmyselfishness，\"hesaid。\"Itisalreadyto—morrow。\"
\"Ihavesatlaterinlessgoodcompany，\"answeredthepleasantGaston。
\"AndIshallsleepallthesounderformakingaconvert。\"
\"Youhavedispensedroadsidealms，\"saidthePadre，smiling，\"andthatshouldwinexcellentdreams。\"
Thus，withcourtesiesmoreelaboratethantheworldhastimeforatthepresentday，theybadeeachothergood—nightandparted，bearingtheirlatecandlesalongthequiethallsofthemission。ToyoungGastoninhisbedeasysleepcamewithoutwaiting，andnodreamsatail。Outsidehisopenwindowwasthequiet，serenedarkness，wherethestarsshoneclear，andtranquilperfumeshunginthecloisters。Butwhiletheguestlaysleepingallnightinunchangedpositionlikeachild，upanddownbetweentheoleanderswentPadreIgnacio，walkinguntildawn。Temptationindeedhadcomeoverthehillandenteredthecloisters。