Bottles of lemonade were opened and green cocoanut shells were broken, so that those who came from the baths might drink the fresh water; the girls were given wreaths of ylang-ylang and roses to perfume their unbound hair.
The lunch hour came. The curate, the alférez, the gobernadorcillo, some captains, and the lieutenant sat at a table with Ibarra. The mamas allowed no men at the table with the girls.
“Have you learned anything, señor alférez, about the criminal who attacked Brother Dámaso?” said Brother Salvi.
“Of what criminal are you speaking?” asked the alférez, looking at the father over his glass of wine.
“What? Why, the one who attacked Brother Dámaso on the highway day before yesterday.”
“Father Dámaso has been attacked?” asked several voices.
“Yes; he is in bed yet. It is thought the maker of the assault is Elias, the one who threw you into the swamp some time ago, señor alférez.”
The alférez reddened with shame, if it were not from emptying his glass of wine.
“But I supposed you were informed,” the curate went on; “I said to myself that the alférez of the Municipal Guard——”
The officer bit his lip.