“He seems to be more sleepy than hungry,” answered the engineer, without looking at his aunt.
“Do you know him?”
“I have never seen him in all my life before.”
“We are nicely off with the guests whom the Government sends us. We have beds and provisions in order to keep them ready for those vagabonds of Madrid, whenever they may choose to dispose of them.”
“There are fears of an insurrection,” said Pepe Rey, with sudden heat, “and the Government is determined to crush the Orbajosans—to crush them, to grind them to powder.”
“Stop, man, stop, for Heaven’s sake; don’t crush us!” cried Doña Perfecta sarcastically. “Poor we! Be merciful, man, and allow us unhappy creatures to live. And would you, then, be one of those who would aid the army in the grand work of crushing us?”
“I am not a soldier. I will do nothing but applaud when I see the germs of civil war; of insubordination, of discord, of disorder, of robbery, and of barbarism that exist here, to the shame of our times and of our country, forever extirpated.”
“All will be as God wills.”
“Orbajosa, my dear aunt, has little else than garlic and bandits; for those who in the name of some political or religious idea set out in search of adventures every four or five years are nothing but bandits.”
“Thanks, thanks, my dear nephew!” said Doña Perfecta, turning pale. “So Orbajosa has nothing more than that? Yet there must be something else here—something that you do not possess, since you have come to look for it among us.”