A mocking smile contracted the Captain's lips.
"No matter for that," he replied, "it shall be stripped off you."
Most of the troopers and arrieros, aroused by the loud voices of the monk and the officer, had gradually drawn nearer, and attentively followed the conversation.
The Captain pointed to the monk, and addressed the soldiers.
"Strip off the gown that covers that man," he said; "fasten him to a catalpa, and give him two hundred lashes with a chicote."
"Villains!" the monk exclaimed, nearly out of his mind; "Any man of you who dares to lay hands on me I curse; he will be eternally condemned for having insulted a minister of the altar."
The soldiers stopped in terror before this anathema, which their ignorance and stupid superstition robbed them of the courage to brave.
The monk folded his arms, and addressed the officer triumphantly—
"Wretched madman," he said, "I could punish you for your audacity, but I pardon you. Heaven will undertake to avenge me, and you will be punished when your last hour arrives. Farewell! Make room for me to pass, fellows!"
The dragoons, confused and timid, fell back slowly and hesitatingly before him; the Captain, forced to confess his impotence, clenched his fists, as he looked passionately around him.