Chapter XXX.
The Voice of the Persecuted.
Before the sun went down, Ibarra put his foot into Elias’s banca on the shore of the lake. He seemed displeased about something, as though he had been opposed or contradicted.
“Pardon me, señor,” said Elias on seeing him. “Pardon me for having ventured to make this appointment with you. I would like to speak with you freely, and here we have no witnesses. We can return within an hour.”
“You are mistaken, friend Elias,” replied Ibarra, trying to smile. “You will have to take me to that town over there, where you see that belfry. Fate obliges me to go there.”
“Fate?”
“Yes; on my way here, I met the alferez. He insisted upon accompanying me. I thought about you, and knew that he would recognize you, and, in order to get rid of him, I told him that I was going to that town. Now I will have to remain there all day to-morrow, for the man whom I am going to see will not look for me till to-morrow afternoon.”
“I am obliged to you for your thoughtfulness, but you might have simply told him to accompany you,” replied Elias with naturalness.
“How’s that? And what about you?”
“He would never have recognized me. The only time that he ever saw me, I don’t believe that he thought to take down a description of me.”