Спрут: Калифорнийская история

           Themainbodyofthechurchitselfwasatrightanglestothecolonnade,andatthepointofintersectionrosethebelfrytower,anancientcampanile,whereswungthethreecrackedbells,thegiftoftheKingofSpain.BeyondthechurchwastheMissiongardenandthegraveyardthatoverlookedtheSeedranchinalittlehollowbeyond.

           PresleyandVanameewentdownthelongcolonnadetothelastdoornextthebelfrytower,andVanameepulledtheleatherthongthathungfromaholeinthedoor,settingalittlebelljanglingsomewhereintheinterior.Theplace,butforthisnoise,wasshroudedinaSundaystillness,anabsoluterepose.Onlyatintervals,oneheardthetrickleoftheunseenfountain,andtheliquidcooingofdovesinthegarden.

           FatherSarriaopenedthedoor.Hewasasmallman,somewhatstout,withasmoothandshinyface.Heworeafrockcoatthatwasratherdirty,slippers,andanoldyachtingcapofbluecloth,withabrokenleathervizor.Hewassmokingacheapcigar,veryfatandblack.

           ButinstantlyherecognisedVanamee.Hisfacewentallalightwithpleasureandastonishment.Itseemedasifhewouldneverhavefinishedshakingbothhishands;and,asitwas,hereleasedbutoneofthem,pattinghimaffectionatelyontheshoulderwiththeother.Hewasvolubleinhiswelcome,talkingpartlyinSpanish,partlyinEnglish.Sohehadcomebackagain,thisgreatfellow,tannedasanIndian,leanasanIndian,withanIndian’slong,blackhair.Buthehadnotchanged,notintheveryleast.Hisbeardhadnotgrownaninch.