“What have you done with my father?”
Friar Salvi, pale and trembling, as he read the unmistakable sentiments which were depicted on the young man’s face, could not reply.
“What have you done with my father?” he asked again, his voice almost choking him.
The priest, shrinking from the tight grasp of Ibarra’s hand, at last made a great effort and said: “You are mistaken. I have done nothing with your father.”
“What? No?” continued the young man, the weight of his hand on the priest’s shoulder almost making him kneel.
“No, I assure you. It was my predecessor. It was Father Dámaso——”
“Ah!” exclaimed the young man, throwing the priest down and giving him a slap in the face. And leaving Father Salvi, he turned quickly and went toward the house.