“He who gives food to the little birds,” said Rosita, in a solemn tone, “will take care of those who trust in Him.”
Don Modesto, disconcerted, and knowing not what further to say, went to consult with the cura, who was at the same time his friend and Rosita’s.
The cura persuaded the good girl that her scruples were exaggerated, and her fears without reason; that the projected separation would much more give rise to ridiculous comments.
They continued then to live together, as formerly, in peace, and in the fear of God;—the commandant always good and useful; Rosa always careful, attentive, and disinterested: because, on the one hand, Don Modesto was not the man to take any recompense for his services; and, on the other, if the handle of his gala-sword had not been silver, she could well have forgotten the color of that metal.
CHAPTER VI.
WHEN Stein returned to the convent, all the family were assembled in the court. Momo and Manuel arrived at the same time, each from his direction. The last had been going his rounds of the farm in the exercise of his functions as gamekeeper; he held his gun in one hand, and in the other three partridges and two hares.
The children ran to Momo, who at once emptied his wallet, from which escaped, as from a horn of abundance, a multitude of winter fruits, which, according to Spanish custom, served to celebrate All Saints’ Eve; viz., nuts, chestnuts, and pomegranates.
“If Marisalada brings us the fish,” said the eldest of the little girls, “to-morrow we will have a famous feast.”
“To-morrow,” said Maria, “is All Saints; father Pedro will certainly not go out to fish.”
“Then,” said the little one, “it will be for the next day.”