Brother Sibyla was moved. He inclined his head, and seemed to wait.
“Ah!” gasped the sick man, “they recommend an operation! An operation at my age! Oh, this country, this terrible country! You see what it does for all of us, Hernando!”
“And what has your reverence decided?”
“To die! Could I do otherwise? I suffer too much, but—I’ve made others suffer. I’m paying my debt. And you? How are you? What do you bring me?”
“I came to talk of the mission you gave me.”
“Ah! and what is there to say?”
“They’ve told us fairy tales,” answered Brother Sibyla wearily. “Young Ibarra seems a sensible fellow. He is not stupid at all, and thoroughly manly.”
“Is it so!”
“Hostilities began yesterday.”
“Ah! and how?”