“Would it not be better for us to find out what he thinks?” asked Father Salví. “We would avoid a scandal ... and ... we would be able to call to his mind his duty to ... the Church.”
“Your Reverences can walk in, if you wish,” announced the adjutant, as he escorted out the young man, whose face was now, however, glowing with satisfaction.
Friar Sibyla entered first. Behind him came Father Salví, Father Manuel Martin and the other priests. They all humbly saluted the Governor General, with the exception of Father Sibyla, who preserved even in his bow, an air of superiority. Father Salví, on the contrary, almost touched the floor with his head.
“Which of Your Reverences is Father Dámaso?” asked His Excellency unexpectedly, without having them sit down, or even asking about their health, and without addressing them with any of those courteous phrases which are customary with such high personages.
“Father Dámaso is not among us, señor,” replied Father Sibyla, rather dryly.
“Your Excellency’s servant lies ill in bed,” added Father Salví meekly. “After having the pleasure of saluting you and of inquiring about the health of Your Excellency, as befits all the good servants of the King and all persons of good education, we also come in the name of the respectful servant of Your Excellency who has the misfortune....”
“Oh,” interrupted the Governor General, as he turned a chair around on one leg and smiled nervously. “If all the servants of My Excellency were like His Reverence Father Dámaso, I would prefer to serve My Excellency myself.”
The Reverences did not know how to respond to this interruption.
“Take a seat, Your Reverences!” he added after a short pause, softening his tone a little.
Captain Tiago came in dressed in a frock coat and walking on tip-toes. He was leading Maria Clara by the hand. The young maiden was trembling when she entered, but notwithstanding she made a graceful and ceremonious bow.