“I think that is a very good idea; at any rate, we will tell the priest when we go in to breakfast, and hear what he says. He is a good fellow, I think—though, of course, his hands are very much tied by the position he is placed in.”
After they had eaten their breakfast, Rubini went with Frank to the priest’s room.
“Padre,” he said, “we don’t like our position here. It is certain that the brigands have no reason to love us, and that after the numbers who have been put out of the way down below, they must be thirsting for revenge.”
“That is certainly to be expected,” the priest said gravely.
“Therefore we think it is by no means unlikely that several of these bands will unite in an attack on one of our posts.”
“I hinted as much as that to you last night.”
“You did, padre; and the more I think of it, the more probable it seems to me that this is what they will do. It may be this post, or another; but I feel that, although we could beat off any attack in the daytime, it would be most serious were they to fall upon us at night, when we are scattered throughout the village.”
“It would certainly be so, signor. The consequences would, I think, be most grave.”
“Therefore, padre, we intend to retire to the church every evening.”
“Between ourselves, Captain Rubini, I am not sorry that you have made that proposal, or rather, have announced to me your intention of doing so. You will understand that it was a suggestion that could not come from me, and that I bow to your decision, having no means of resisting it; that being understood, I can say, frankly, that I think the plan a wise one. I hope that you do not intend to occupy it during the day, nor to eat and drink there, but simply to pass the night in the shelter of its walls, and that at all other times our services can be held as usual?”