Part 26 (2/2)
Father Damaso gazed at him in silence from head to foot. He took the letter which the young man handed to him and read it apparently without understanding it, for he asked him:
”And who are you?”
”Alfonso Linares, the G.o.d-son of your brother-in-law,” stammered the young man.
Father Damaso leaned back and examined the young man again. His face brightened up and he rose to his feet.
”And so you are the G.o.d-son of little Charles!” he exclaimed. ”Come here and let me embrace you. It was some days ago that I received your letter. So it is you! I did not know you--but that is easily explained, for you were not yet born when I left the country. I never knew you.”
And Father Damaso stretched out his robust arms to the young man who blushed, either from shame or suffocation. Father Damaso seemed to have completely forgotten his grief.
After the first moments of effusion had pa.s.sed, and questions had been asked about Carlicos, as he called little Charles, Father Damaso asked:
”Well. What does Carlicos want me to do for you?”
”I believe he says something in the letter,” stammered Linares again.
”In the letter? Let us see. 'Tis so! And he wants me to get you a job and a wife! Hm! Employment--employment: that is easy. Do you know how to read and write?”
”I have graduated in law from the Central University.”
”Carambas! So you are a pettifogger? Well, you don't look it--you look more like a young gentleman. But so much the better! But to find you a wife--hm! hm! a wife.”
”Father, I am not in a hurry about it,” said Linares, confused.
But Father Damaso began to walk from one end of the room to the other, muttering: ”A wife! A wife!”
His face by this time was no longer sad, nor was it cheerful. It expressed the greatest seriousness and he seemed to be meditating. Father Salvi surveyed the scene from a distance.
”I did not believe that it could give me such pain,” murmured Father Damaso in a mournful voice. ”But of two evils the lesser.”
And raising his voice and approaching Linares, he said:
”Come here, my boy! We will speak with Santiago.”
Linares turned pale and allowed himself to be led along by the priest, who was deep in thought.
Then it was Father Salvi's turn to walk up and down the room and he did so, meditating, as was his custom.
A voice bidding him good morning stopped his monotonous tread. He raised his head and his eyes met Lucas, who saluted him humbly.
”What do you want?” asked the eyes of the curate.
”Father, I am the brother of the man who was killed on the day of the fiesta,” replied Lucas, in a tearful tone.
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