[Footnote 171: Gazpacho. Dish made of bread, oil, onions, vinegar, salt and red-pepper mixed together in water.]
"They do not eat gazpacho," replied Ventura.
"Then what do they eat?"
"They eat potatoes and milk,", he answered.
"Much good may it do them, and benefit their stomachs."
"The worst is, Aunt Maria, that in all that land there are neither monks nor nuns."
"What are you telling me, my son?"
"What you hear. There are very few churches, and those look like hospitals that have been plundered, for they are without chapels, without altars, without images, and without the blessed sacrament."
"Mercy, mercy!" exclaimed all, except Maria, who remained as if turned to stone with surprise. But presently crossing her hands, she exclaimed, with satisfied fervor.
"Ah my sunshine! Ah my white bread! My church! My blessed Mother! My country, my faith, and my God in his sacrament! Happy a thousand times, I, who have been born, and through divine mercy, shall die here! Thank God, my son, that yon did not go to that country, a land of heretics! How dreadful!"