“I give you my word,” he said, readily, “that I do not believe you are in that shameful condition. I only wish to say that the wine has somewhat excited your brain, producing a disturbance which is more moral than physical, and which shows itself in talking fair-sounding nonsense, in meddling in other people’s affairs and in regulating the world to suit ourselves—goodness, when the one who should regulate it is God!”
“Very well; but if I should say to Carmiña that she must annul her marriage, what would be your reply?”
“I should advise you to take care of yourself, and probably should say to you, ‘Soak your head, my son, for it is red hot!’”
“So you think there is no remedy!” I cried, with painful vehemence. “That we should allow the iniquity to be consummated and the catastrophe to be brought on with our arms folded! But is it possible that you do not know my uncle? Don’t you see the meanness and vileness of his nature—above all, when compared with the goodness of that incomparable woman, whom you ought to venerate as much as the Virgin Mary, because she is as good——”
I could not go on. Exasperated and flushed with anger, with all the energy of his nature and the spirit of his calling, the friar stopped my mouth by laying his broad hand on it.
“By my faith! by all the saints! I feel like sending you I know very well where, and I would send you there if I did not see that you are in an abnormal state of mind. Serafín drank the Pajarete, but you have the fumes of it in your head. I did not believe it before, but now,—I did not imagine that too much drink was what ailed you; but if you go off in such wild sayings, the greatest favor I can do you is to suppose that you are tipsy.”
I stepped back, protesting and offended.
“Take care, Father, be careful what you say! Nobody has a right to hurt——”
The friar, quickly passing from anger to cordiality, clapped me on the shoulder, saying:
“Don’t get offended. Good gracious! Listen to me quietly if you can. Your potations have inclined you to take a high and sublime stand, which proves that you have a fund of good feeling stored away in your heart, that springs to the surface when you are least in control of yourself; precisely when you speak with perfect freedom, ex abundantia cordis. This is what I have observed, and I tell you so sincerely, with the sincerity becoming a member of a religious order, who neither disguises his thoughts nor concerns himself over trifles. I will even grant you more. Possibly, in the midst of your—ahem—excitement, you may clearly perceive the future, and be a prophet in maintaining that this marriage has been, humanly speaking, a blunder. But you make no account of the aid of grace and of Providence, which never fails the good, the simple-hearted, or those who do their duty, and trust in the word of Christ. Peace in the soul is a real treasure, among the many false ones the world offers. Don’t pity your aunt, or me, or any one who walks in the straight path and knows how to defy man’s physical nature.”