The Alcalde carried Josè off to dinner with him, much against the inclination of the priest, who preferred to be alone. But the Alcalde was the chief influence in the town, and it was policy to cultivate him.
“The blessed Virgin shows that she has not forgotten Simití, Padre, by sending you here,” said Don Mario, when they were seated in the shade of the ample patio.
Josè knew the Alcalde was sounding him. “Yes, friend,” with just a trace of amusement in his voice. “It was doubtless because of the Virgin that I was directed here,” he replied, thinking of Carmen.
“Excellent advice that you gave the people, Padre; but it is not likely they understood you, poor fools! Now if Padre Diego had been preaching he would have ranted like a windstorm; but he would have made an impression. I am afraid soft words will not sink into their thick skulls.”
Dinner was served in the open, during which the Alcalde chattered volubly.
“Don Rosendo returns soon?” he finally ventured. Josè knew that for some time he had been edging toward the question.
“Quien sabe, señor!” replied the priest, with a careless shrug of his shoulders.
“But––Caramba! he is old to prospect for gold––and alone, too!” Don Mario eyed Josè sharply.
“Ah, you priests!” he burst out laughing. “You are all alike when it comes to money. Padre Diego was up to the same schemes; and before he left he had a hat full of titles to mines.”
“But I am not seeking to acquire mineral property!” exclaimed Josè with some aspersion.