“They have already gone to look for him, General! But there is a young man here from Manila who insists on being introduced. We have told him that Your Excellency has no time and that you have not come to give audiences, but to see the town and the procession. But he has replied that Your Excellency always has time to dispense justice.”
His Excellency turned to the Alcalde as if in doubt.
“If I am not mistaken,” said the latter, making a slight bow, “it is a young man who this morning had a difficulty with Father Dámaso about the sermon.”
“Still another? Has this friar undertaken to disturb the province, or does he think that he is in command here? Tell the young man to come in!”
His Excellency was walking nervously from one end of the sala to the other.
In the lower part of the house, in the ante-room, were several Spaniards, mingled with army officers and officials of the town of San Diego and some of the neighboring villages. They were grouped in little circles and were conversing about one thing and another. All of the friars were there except Father Dámaso, and they wanted to go in and pay their respects to His Excellency.
“His Excellency, the Governor General, begs Your Reverences to wait a moment,” said the adjutant. “Walk in, young man!”
The young man from Manila entered the sala, pale and trembling.
Everybody was surprised. His Excellency must be irritated to dare to make the friars wait. Father Sibyla said: “I have nothing to say to him.... I am losing time here!”
“It’s the same with me,” said an Augustine. “Shall we go?”