She sank back in his arms and nestled close to him, as if she longed to enter his empty heart and fill the great void with her measureless love.
“And, Padre dear,” she whispered, “your little girl will wait for you––yes, she will wait.”
It was some days later that Rosendo, after returning almost empty handed from the hills, came to Josè and said, “Padre, I have sold my hacienda to Don Luis. I need the money to purchase 280 supplies and to get the papers through for some denouncements which I have made in Guamocó. I knew that Don Mario would put through no papers for me, and so I have asked Lázaro to make the transaction and to deliver the titles to me when the final papers arrive. I have a blank here to be filled out with the name and description of a mineral property. I––what would be a good name for a mine, Padre?”
“Why do you ask that, Rosendo?” queried Josè in surprise.
“Because, Padre, I want a foreign name––one not known, here. Give me an American one. Think hard.”
Josè reflected. “There is a city, a great city, that I have often heard about, up in the States,” he said finally.
He took up the little atlas which he had received long since with other books from abroad. “Look,” he said, “it is called Chicago. Call your property the Chicago mine, Rosendo. It is a name unknown down here, and there can no confusion arise because of it.”
“Caramba!” Rosendo muttered, trying to twist his tongue around the word, “it is certain that no one else will use that name in Guamocó! But that makes my title still more secure, no?”
“But, Rosendo,” said Josè, when the full significance of the old man’s announcement had finally penetrated, “you have sold your finca! And to acquire title to property that you can never sell or work! Why, man! do you realize what you have done? You are impoverished! What will you do now? And what about Carmen? for we have nothing. And the sword that hangs above us may fall any day!”