Doña Perfecta threw herself into an easy chair and clutched its arms convulsively.
“It remains to be seen whether they have allowed themselves to be arrested,” observed Remedios.
“Many of them have—a great many of them,” said Don Inocencio, with an approving look, addressing Doña Perfecta, “have had time to escape, and have gone with arms and horses to Villahorrenda.”
“And Ramos?”
“They told me in the cathedral that he is the one they are looking for most eagerly. Oh, my God! to arrest innocent people in that way, who have done nothing yet. Well, I don’t know how good Spaniards can have patience under such treatment. Señora Doña Perfecta, when I was telling you about the arrests, I forgot to say that you ought to go home at once.”
“Yes, I will go at once. Have those bandits searched my house?”
“It is possible. Señora, we have fallen upon evil days,” said Don Inocencio, in solemn and feeling accents. “May God have pity upon us!”
“There are half a dozen well-armed men in my house,” responded the lady, greatly agitated. “What iniquity! Would they be capable of wanting to carry them off too?”
“Assuredly Señor Pinzon will not have neglected to denounce them. Señora, I repeat that we have fallen upon evil days. But God will protect the innocent.”
“I am going now. Don’t fail to stop in at the house.”