“Caramba! He speaks truth!” cried a voice from the crowd. The babel commenced anew.
“The soldiers! Caramba! Let Diego have his child!”
“Maldita!”
“Who says it is not his?”
“I do!”
It was Ana. Clasping Josè’s arm to steady herself, she had turned to confront the excited assembly.
Silence descended upon them all. Josè held up his hand. A sob escaped the woman. Then:
“The priest Diego had a child––a girl. Her name––it was––Carmen. The child is––dead.”
“Caramba! girl, how know you that?” shrilled a woman’s excited voice.
“I know, because I––was––its––mother!”