“Do you know, señor alférez,” he asked, “what is said about the disappearance of these children? No? Then ask your soldiers.”
“What!” cried the alférez, thus challenged, abandoning his mocking tone.
“They say that on the night when they disappeared shots were heard in the pueblo.”
“Shots?” repeated the alférez, looking at the faces around him. There were several signs of assent.
Brother Salvi went on with a sarcastic smile:
“Come! I see that you do not know how to arrest criminals, that you are unaware of what your soldiers do, but that you are ready to turn yourself into a preacher and teach others their duty.”
“Señores,” interrupted Ibarra, seeing the alférez grow pale, “I wish to know what you think of a project I’ve formed. I should like to give the mother into the care of a good physician. I’ve promised the father to try to find his children.”
The return of the servants without Sisa gave a new turn to the conversation. The luncheon was finished. While the tea and coffee were being served the guests separated into groups, the elders to play cards or chess, while the girls, curious to learn their destiny, posed questions to the “Wheel of Fortune.”
“Come, Señor Ibarra!” cried Captain Basilio, a little gayer than usual; “we’ve had a case in court for fifteen years and no judge is able to solve it; let’s see if we cannot end it at chess.”
“In a moment, with great pleasure,” said Ibarra; “the alférez is leaving us.”