Padre Roman sat dejectedly balancing himself, his feet just touching
the ground, his hands gripping the edge of the hammock. With less
confidence, but as ignorant as his flock, he asked the major what did he
think was going to happen now.
Don Pepe, bolt upright in the chair, folded his hands peacefully on
the hilt of his sword, standing perpendicular between his thighs, and
answered that he did not know. The mine could be defended against any
force likely to be sent to take possession. On the other hand, from the
arid character of the valley, when the regular supplies from the Campo
had been cut off, the population of the three villages could be starved
into submission. Don Pepe exposed these contingencies with serenity
to Father Roman, who, as an old campaigner, was able to understand the
reasoning of a military man. They talked with simplicity and directness.
Father Roman was saddened at the idea of his flock being scattered
or else enslaved. He had no illusions as to their fate, not from
penetration, but from long experience of political atrocities, which
seemed to him fatal and unavoidable in the life of a State. The working
of the usual public institutions presented itself to him most distinctly
as a series of calamities overtaking private individuals and flowing
logically from each other through hate, revenge, folly, and rapacity,
as though they had been part of a divine dispensation. Father Roman's
clear-sightedness was served by an uninformed intelligence; but his
heart, preserving its tenderness amongst scenes of carnage, spoliation,
and violence, abhorred these calamities the more as his association with
the victims was closer. He entertained towards the Indians of the valley
feelings of paternal scorn. He had been marrying, baptizing, confessing,
absolving, and burying the workers of the San Tome mine with dignity
and unction for five years or more; and he believed in the sacredness of
these ministrations, which made them his own in a spiritual sense. They
were dear to his sacerdotal supremacy. Mrs. Gould's earnest interest in
the concerns of these people enhanced their importance in the priest's
eyes, because it really augmented his own. When talking over with her
the innumerable Marias and Brigidas of the villages, he felt his own
humanity expand. Padre Roman was incapable of fanaticism to an almost
reprehensible degree. The English senora was evidently a heretic; but
at the same time she seemed to him wonderful and angelic. Whenever that
confused state of his feelings occurred to him, while strolling, for
instance, his breviary under his arm, in the wide shade of the tamarind,
he would stop short to inhale with a strong snuffling noise a large
quantity of snuff, and shake his head profoundly. At the thought of
what might befall the illustrious senora presently, he became gradually
overcome with dismay. He voiced it in an agitated murmur. Even Don Pepe
lost his serenity for a moment. He leaned forward stiffly.
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