“Jesús, it seemed like a thanksgiving mass, regular fireworks!” commented Sister Rufa.
“Since the town was sacked by Balat, I’ve never seen another night equal to it,” responded Sister Puté.
“What a lot of shots! They say that it was old Pablo’s band.”
“Tulisanes? That can’t be! They say that it was the cuadrilleros against the civil-guards. That’s why Don Filipo has been arrested.”
“Sanctus Deus! They say that at least fourteen were killed.”
Other windows were now opened and more faces appeared to exchange greetings and make comments. In the clear light, which promised a bright day, soldiers could be seen in the distance, coming and going confusedly like gray silhouettes.
“There goes one more corpse!” was the exclamation from a window.
“One? I see two.”
“And I—but really, can it be you don’t know what it was?” asked a sly-featured individual.
“Oh, the cuadrilleros!”