midday
What happened next is lost in misty waves of forgetfulness . '' _ Yet there be certain times in a young man 's life when through great sorrow or sin all the boy in him is burnt and seared away so that he passes at one step to the more sorrowful state of manhood . '' _ -- KIPLING . The heat of midday was tempered by a light breeze up the San Christobal Valley , and there was not a single cloud in the June skies to throw a softening shadow on the yellow plain . A little group of Mexicans , riding northward with sullen faces , urged on their jaded ponies viciously as they thought of the gold that was to have been paid them for this morning 's work , and of the gold that to-morrow night must go to pay the priest who should shrive them ; and they had nothing gained wherewith to pay . Their leader , whom they had served , had been trapped in his own game , and they felt themselves abused and deceived . Down by the brown sands of the river Father Josef waited at the door of the half-ruined little stone chapel for the strange group coming slowly toward him : Ferdinand Ramero , riding like a captured but unconquered king , his head erect , his flashing eyes seeing nobody ; Jondo who could make the shabbiest piece of horseflesh take on grace when he mounted it , his tanned cheek flushed , and the spirit of supreme sacrifice looking out through his dark-blue eyes ; Eloise , drooping like a white flower , but brave of spirit now , sure that her grief and anxiety would be lifted somehow .