Chapter XLI.
Father Dámaso Explains.
In vain the costly wedding gifts were heaped upon the table. Neither the diamonds in their blue velvet caskets, nor the embroidered piña, nor the pieces of silk had any attractions for Maria Clara. The maiden looked at the paper which gave the account of Ibarra’s death, drowned in the lake, but she neither saw nor read it.
Of a sudden, she felt two hands over her eyes. They held her fast while a joyous voice, Father Dámaso’s, said to her:
“Who am I? Who am I?”
Maria Clara jumped from her seat and looked at him with terror in her eyes.
“You little goose, were you frightened, eh? You were not expecting me? Well, I have come from the provinces to attend your wedding.”
And coming up to her again with a smile of satisfaction, he stretched out his hand to her. Maria Clara approached timidly and, raising it to her lips, kissed it.
“What is the matter with you, Maria?” asked the Franciscan, losing his gay smile, and becoming very uneasy. “Your hand is cold, you are pale.... Are you ill, my little girl?”
And Father Dámaso drew her up to him with a fondness of which no one would have thought him capable. He grasped both the maiden’s hands and gave her a questioning look.