“Help him,” replied the other, a good and simple old woman. “Brother Gabriel! brother Gabriel!” she called out in entering the court, “come quickly, there is here an unfortunate man who is dying.”
Hurried steps were heard: they were those of an old man of ordinary height, with a placid and high complexioned face. His dress consisted of pantaloons and a large vest with gray sleeves, and the remnant of an old frock-coat; he had sandals on his feet; a cap of black wool covered his shiny forehead.
“Brother Gabriel,” said the elder female, “we must succor this man.”
“He must be cared for,” replied brother Gabriel.
“For God’s sake,” cried the woman who carried the light, “where can we place here a dying man?”
“We will do the best we can, my daughter, without being uneasy about the rest. Help me.”
“Would to God,” said Dolores, “that we may have no disagreement when Manuel returns.”
“It cannot be otherwise,” replied the good old woman, “than that the son will concur in what his mother has done.”
The three conveyed Stein to the chamber of brother Gabriel. They made up for him a bed with fresh straw, and a good large mattress filled with wool. Grandma Maria took out of a large chest a pair of sheets, if not very fine, at least very white. She then added a warm woollen counterpane.
Brother Gabriel wished to give up his pillow; the Grandma opposed it, saying she had two, and that one would suffice for her. During these preparations some one knocked loud at the door, and continued to knock.