padre ignacio

Padre IgnacioOr The Song of Temptationby Owen WisterIAt Santa Ysabel del Mar the season was at one of those moments when theair rests quiet over land and sea. The old breezes were gone; the newones were not yet risen. The flowers in the mission garden opened wide;no wind came by day or night to shake the loose petals from their stems.Along the basking, silent, many-colored shore gathered and lingered thecrisp odors of the mountains. The dust hung golden and motionless longafter the rider was behind the hill, and the Pacific lay like a floor ofsapphire, whereon to walk beyond the setting sun into the East. One whitesail shone there. Instead of an hour, it had been from dawn till...

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