“Señor Don Inocencio,” said Doña Perfecta, looking alternately at her nephew and her friend, “I think that in judging this boy you are more than benevolent. Don’t get angry, Pepe, or mind what I say, for I am neither a savante, nor a philosopher, nor a theologian; but it seems to me that Señor Don Inocencio has just given a proof of his great modesty and Christian charity in not crushing you as he could have done if he had wished.”
“Oh, señora!” said the ecclesiastic.
“That is the way with him,” continued Doña Perfecta, “always pretending to know nothing. And he knows more than the seven doctors put together. Ah, Señor Don Inocencio, how well the name you have suits you! But don’t affect an unseasonable humility now. Why, my nephew has no pretensions. All he knows is what he has been taught. If he has been taught error, what more can he desire than that you should enlighten him and take him out of the limbo of his false doctrines?”
“Just so; I desire nothing more than that the Señor Penitentiary should take me out,”—murmured Pepe, comprehending that without intending it, he had got himself into a labyrinth.
“I am a poor priest, whose only learning is some knowledge of the ancients,” responded Don Inocencio. “I recognize the immense value, from a worldly point of view, of Señor Don José’s scientific knowledge, and before so brilliant an oracle I prostrate myself and am silent.”
So saying, the canon folded his hands across his breast and bent his head. Pepe Rey was somewhat disturbed because of the turn which his mind had chosen to give to an idle discussion jestingly followed up, and in which he had engaged only to enliven the conversation a little. He thought that the most prudent course to pursue would be to end at once so dangerous a debate, and for this purpose he addressed a question to Señor Don Cayetano when the latter, shaking off the drowsiness which had overcome him after the dessert, offered the guests the indispensable toothpicks stuck in a china peacock with outspread tail.
“Yesterday I discovered a hand grasping the handle of an amphora, on which there are a number of hieratic characters. I will show it to you,” said Don Cayetano, delighted to introduce a favorite theme.
“I suppose that Señor de Rey is very expert in archaeological matters also,” said the canon, who, still implacable, pursued his victim to his last retreat.
“Of course,” said Doña Perfecta. “What is there that these clever children of our day do not understand? They have all the sciences at their fingers’ ends. The universities and the academics teach them every thing in a twinkling, giving them a patent of learning.”
“Oh, that is unjust!” responded the canon, observing the pained expression of the engineer’s countenance.