The Alcalde reiterated his demands with truculent vanity. “Open! In the name of the Government! I am the law!”
Don Jorge groaned aloud. “Caramba! if I but had him in here alone!”
Don Mario waited a few moments. Then, as no response came from within, his anger began to soar. “Caramba!” he cried, “but you defy the law?”
Angry mutterings rose from the crowd. Some one suggested burning the building. Another advised battering in the doors. A third intimated that shooting them full of holes were better. This idea, once voiced, spread like an infection. The childish people were eager to try the rifles.
“Shoot the doors down! Shoot them down, Don Mario!” yelled the mob.
The Alcalde threw himself heavily up against the doors. “Caramba!” he shrilled. “Fools! Demons! Open!––or it will be the worse for you!”
Josè decided that their silence should no longer exasperate the angry man. He put his mouth to the crevice between the doors.
“Don Mario,” he cried, “this is sacred ground! The Host is exposed on the altar. Take your mob away. Disperse, and we will come out. We may settle this trouble amicably, if you will but listen to reason.”
The Alcalde jumped up and down in his towering wrath. “Puppy-face!” he screamed, “but I am the law––I am the Government! A curse upon you, priest of Satan! Will you unbar these doors?”
“No!” replied Josè. “And if you attack us you attack the Church!”