“Oh!” interrupted the captain-general, with a nervous smile, while he twirled a chair on one leg. “If all the servants of my Excellency were like the Father Dámaso, I should prefer to serve my Excellency myself!”
Their reverences did not seem to know what to reply.
“Won’t your reverences sit down?” added the governor in more conventional tone.
Captain Tiago, in evening dress and walking on tiptoe, came in, leading by the hand Maria Clara, hesitating, timid. Overcoming her agitation, she made her salute, at once ceremonial and graceful.
“This sigñorita is your daughter!” exclaimed the surprised governor. “Happy the fathers whose daughters are like you, sigñorita. They have told me about you, and I wish to thank you in the name of His Majesty the King, who loves the peace and tranquillity of his subjects, and in my own name, in that of a father who has daughters. If there is anything you would wish, sigñorita——”
“Señor!” protested Maria, trembling.
“The Señor Don Juan Crisóstomo Ibarra awaits Your Excellency’s orders,” announced the ringing voice of the aide-de-camp.
“Permit me, sigñorita, to see you again before I leave the pueblo. I have yet things to say to you. Señor acalde, Your Highness will accompany me on the walk I wish to take after the private conference I shall have with the Señor Ibarra.”
“Your Excellency,” said Father Salvi humbly, “will permit us to inform him that the Señor Ibarra is excommunicated——”
The general broke in.