Suffering himself to be led by her, he staggered across the rotunda and into the room where long before he had entertained for a brief hour Don Jorge and the priest Josè. Ana quickly broke the neck of a bottle of the newly arrived wine and gave him a generous measure.
“Ah, God in heaven!” murmured the besotted priest, sinking into a chair and sipping the beverage; “it is the nectar of Olympus––triple distilled through tubes of sunlight and perfumed with sweet airs and the smiles of voluptuous houris! Ah, Lord above, you are good to your little Diego! Another sip, my lovely Ana––and bring me the cigarettes. And come, fat lass, do you sit beside me and twine your graceful arms about my neck, while your soft breath kisses my old cheek! Ah, Dios, who would not be human! Caramba! the good God may keep His heaven, if He will but give me the earth!”
Ana drew his head against her bosom and murmured hypocritical words of endearment in his ear, while she kept his glass full. Diego babbled like a child. He nodded; struggled to keep awake; and at length fell asleep with his head on her shoulder. Then she arose, and, assured that he would be long in his stupor, extinguished the light and hurried to her own room.
Carmen was sleeping peacefully. The woman bent over her with the lighted candle and looked long and wistfully. “Ah, Santa Maria!” she prayed, “if you will but save her, you may do what you will with me!”
Tears flowed freely down her cheeks as she turned to the door and threw the bolt. Coming back to the bed, she again bent over the sleeping girl. “Santa Virgen!” she murmured, “how beautiful! Like an angel! Dios mío––and that beast, he has seen her, and he would––ah, Dios!”
Going again to the dresser, she took from a drawer a sandalwood rosary. Then she returned to the bed and knelt beside the child. “Blessed Virgin,” she prayed, while her hot tears fell upon the beads, “I am lost––lost! Ah, I have not told my beads for many years––I cannot say them now! Santa Virgen, pray for me––pray for me––and if I kill him to-morrow, tell the blessed Saviour that I did it for the child! Ah, Santa Virgen, how beautiful she is––how pure––what hair––she is from heaven––Santa Virgen, you will protect her?” She kissed the cross repeatedly. “Madre de Dios––she is so beautiful, so pure––”
Carmen moved slightly, and the woman rose hastily from her knees. “Anita dear,” murmured the child, “Jesus waked Lazarus––out of his––sleep. Anita, why do you not come? I am waiting for you.”
“Yes, child, yes! But––Dios mío!” she murmured when Carmen again slept, “I am too wicked to sleep with so pure an angel!––no, I can not! I must not!”