Fernando, who had been sitting just within the door, rose and came to his chief’s side. Josè felt his brain whirling. Fernando stepped outside and took his arm. The Alcalde’s unlovely face expanded in a sinister leer. “It is permissible to place even a priest in the stocks, if he becomes loco,” he said significantly.
Josè tightened his grip upon himself. Fernando spoke quickly:
“It was necessary to take the girl in custody, too, Padre. But do not worry; she is safe.”
“But––you have no right to take her––”
“There, Señor Padre, calm yourself. What right had you to separate her from her father?”
“Diego is not her father! He lies! And, Don Mario, you have no authority but his––”
“You mistake, Señor Padre,” calmly interrupted the Alcalde. “I have a much higher authority.”
Josè stared dully at him. “Whose, then?” he muttered, scarce hearing his own words.
“The Bishop’s, Señor Padre,” answered Don Mario, with a cruel grin.