“What are you laughing at, sonny?” asked Don Alonso.
Manuel could not explain the reason for his laughter; but after a long siege of this hilarity he was left in a funereal mood.
“What would Jesús say if he were here!” muttered Manuel. “In the house of God, where all are equal, it is a crime to enter and rest. The sexton hands a fellow over to the guards; the guards thrust a fellow into a dark cell. And who’s to know what they’re going to do to us! I’m afraid they’ll take us off to prison, if, for that matter, they don’t hang us altogether.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. If they’d only give us a bite to eat!” moaned Don Alonso.
“They must be considering that.”
It must have been about one or two in the morning when the door to this pig-pen was opened. The Snake-Man and Manuel were led by two guards into the street.
“Say, where are you taking us?” inquired Don Alonso, a little scared.
“Keep on moving ahead,” replied the guard.
“This is an outrage,” muttered Don Alonso.
“You walk ahead, unless you want to march tied elbow to elbow,” snarled the guard.