“Anita!” she cried, her voice breaking with emotion, “Anita––I am Carmen! Do you not know me?”
The woman fell back in astonishment. “Carmen! What! The little Carmen, my father’s––”
“Yes, Anita, I am padre Rosendo’s Carmen––and yours!”
Ana clasped the girl in her arms. “Santa Maria, child! What brings you here, of all places?”
Ricardo stepped forward to explain. “As you may see, señorita, it is we who have brought her here, at the command of her father, Padre Diego.”
“Her father!”
“Yes, señorita. And, since you say he is not in, we must wait until he returns.”
The woman stood speechless with amazement. Carmen clung to her, while Ricardo stood looking at them, with a foolish leer on his face. Julio drew back into the shadow of the wall.
“Bien, señorita,” said Ricardo, stepping up to the child and attempting to take her arm, “we will be held to account for the girl, and we must not lose her. Caramba! For then would the good Padre damn us forever!”
Carmen shrank away from him. Julio emerged swiftly from the shadow and laid a restraining hand on Ricardo. The woman tore Carmen from his grasp and thrust the girl behind herself. “Cierto, friend Ricardo, we are all responsible for her,” she said quickly. “But you are tired and hungry––is it not so? Let me take you to the cocina, where you will find roast pig and a bit of red rum.”