“All the women of Palomitas. On their knees in the chapel they make prayers. Excellency, it robs you of nothing that you give them a Judas for Holy Week. I am sent to ask that of the Deliverer.”
She slid down to her knees on the tiles, and looked up at him.
He stared at her, frowning and eyeing her intently, then chuckled, and grinned at the others.
“Did I not tell you she had the heart of a boy? And now you see it! Get up off your knees, chiquita. Why should you want a Judas? It is a sweetheart I must find for you instead.”
“I am not getting up,” said Tula stolidly. “I am kneeling before you, my General. See! I pray to you on the tiles for that Judas. All the women are praying. Also the old women have made medicine to send El Aleman once more on this trail, and see you,––it has come to pass! You have him in your trap, but he is ours. Excellency, come once and see all the women on their knees before the saint as I am here by you. We make prayers for one thing:––the Judas for our holy day!”
“You young devil!” he grinned. “I wish you were a boy. Here, you men help me, or get me a crutch. I will see these women on their knees, and if you don’t lie–––”
With the help of Fidelio and a cane, he started very well, and nodded to Kit.
“You pick well, amigo,” he observed. “She is a wildcat, and of interest. Come you and see. Por Dios! I’ve seen a crucifixion of the Penitentes and helped dig the hidden grave. Also I have heard of the ‘Judas’ death on Holy Friday, but never before this has so young a woman creature picked a man for it,––a man alive! Courage of the devil!”
Tula arose, and went before them across the plaza to the door of the chapel. Kit knew this was the right moment for him to disappear and get the black mare back of the wall, but Rotil kept chuckling to him over the ungirlish request, and so pointedly included him in the party that there seemed no excuse available for absenting himself.
A flush of rose swept upward to the zenith heralding the sun, but in the adobe room, with its door to the west, no light came, except by dim reflection, and as Tula entered and the men stood at the threshold, they blocked the doorway of even that reflection, and the candle at the saint’s shrine shone dimly over the bent heads of the kneeling women.