“Compadres,” he said, “this week we have passed through a sad experience, and the dark angel has robbed us of three of our beloved friends. Is it your wish that death again visit us?”
They looked at one another in wonder. The Alcalde scowled darkly at the priest beneath his heavy brows. Josè continued:
“Bien, it is planned to seize the little Carmen by force, and send her down the river to Padre Diego––”
“Dios y diablo!” Juan had sprung to his feet. “Who says that, Padre?” he demanded savagely. The Alcalde shrank back in his chair.
“Be calm, Juan!” Josè replied. “Padre Diego sends for her by letter––is it not so, Don Mario?”
The latter grunted. Juan wheeled about and stared menacingly at the bulky official.
“Now, friends,” Josè pursued, “it has not been shown that Carmen belongs to Diego––in fact, all things point to the conclusion that she is not his child. My wish is to be just to all concerned. But shall we let the child go to him, knowing what manner of man he is, until it is proven beyond all doubt that he is her father?”
“Caramba! No!” exclaimed Juan and Lázaro in unison.
“And I am of the opinion that the majority of our citizens would support us in the contention. What think you, friends?”
“Every man in Simití, Padre,” replied Lázaro earnestly.