Josè strained her closer to himself. “The sense of evil––it overwhelms me at times, carita––”
“But, Padre dear, why don’t you know right then that it is nothing? If you did, it would fade away, and only good would overwhelm you.” She nestled closer to the man and clasped her arms more tightly about his neck. “Why, Padre,” she resumed, “I was not a bit surprised when Captain Julio came and told us we were near Bodega Central, and that he could see you and Juan and Lázaro sitting on the steps of the inn.”
“Yes, chiquita, we were resting for a moment. If a down-river boat came by we were going to take it. If not, we expected to go in the canoe.”
“Padre dear, what did you intend to do in Banco?”
The man hesitated. “Don’t speak of it, child––we––”
“Juan and Lázaro have knives. I saw them. Padre––have you one, too?”
“I?––chiquita––”
“Padre dear, God never fights with knives. Anita had a knife; but God wouldn’t let her use it. He always has better ways than that. I don’t know what happened to Padre Diego, except that he fell over his wicked thoughts. You know, Padre dear, somewhere in the Bible you read to me that ‘With him is an arm of flesh; but with us is the Lord our God to help us, and to fight our battles.’ I thought of that when Padre Diego had his arm around me and held me so tight that I could hardly breathe. It was only an arm of flesh, after, all, and it couldn’t hold me.”
“Bien, Padre,” interrupted Juan, coming up from the boat, “if we are to reach Simití to-night we must start at once.”