United States or Greece ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
The people of the town have made their preparation for the festival in honor of the patron saint, San Diego, and are gossiping about it, and about the arrival of Maria Clara, accompanied by her aunt Isabel. They rejoiced over it, because they liked her, and admired her beauty very much. They also rejoiced in the change it had made in the priest, Father Salvi.
Who knows but that perhaps in the home whence came the taciturn Padre Salvi children also played, perhaps they sang "La Nochebuena se viene, La Nochebuena se va." For a long time the boy wept and moaned. When at last he raised his head he saw a man standing over him, gazing at the scene in silence. "Are you her son?" asked the unknown in a low voice. The boy nodded. "What do you expect to do?"
It was a sweet, melodious, supplicating voice, weeping the Ave Maria of Gounod. The music of the procession was silenced, the praying ceased, and Father Salví himself stopped. The voice trembled and brought tears to the cheeks of those who heard it. That voice expressed more than a salutation, a prayer, or a plaint.
He did the same as the alcalde, but this time more applause was heard, for to the employees were added some friars and Capitan Tiago. Padre Salvi then seemed to seek for some one to whom he might give the trowel. He looked doubtfully at Maria Clara, but changing his mind, offered it to the escribano. The latter in gallantry offered it to Maria Clara, who smilingly refused it.
You will see that they will arrest you, too. You may support a falling house, if you want to!" The husband became silent in view of this argument. "Yes," continued the old woman, "after striking Father Dámaso, there was nothing left for him to do but to kill Father Salví." "But you can't deny that he was a good boy when he was a child."
In the Wood Early, very early indeed, somewhat differently from his usual custom, Padre Salvi had celebrated mass and cleansed a dozen sinful souls in a few moments. Then it seemed that the reading of some letters which he had received firmly sealed and waxed caused the worthy curate to lose his appetite, since he allowed his chocolate to become completely cold.
Padre Salvi looked like a corpse, and the ladies, seeing that no one was paying them any attention, made the best of it by recovering. Meanwhile, the head had been reduced to ashes, and Mr. Leeds, having replaced the cloth on the table, bowed his audience out. "This show must be prohibited," said Don Custodio on leaving. "It's wicked and highly immoral."
There in the shade and near the crystal brook the party were to take their breakfast among the flowers or under improvised tents. Very early that morning Father Salví had said mass, cleaning, according to his custom, a dozen dirty souls in a few minutes.
Don Timoteo began to feel his belt squeezing him, the corns on his feet began to ache, his neck became tired, but still the General had not come. The greater gods, among them Padre Irene and Padre Salvi, had already arrived, it was true, but the chief thunderer was still lacking.
He stopped, looked back, nudged Ben-Zayb, chuckled and swore, saying, "And that one, and that one, my ink-slinger? And that one over there, what say you?" In his contentment he even fell to using the familiar tu toward his friend and adversary. Padre Salvi stared at him from time to time, but he took little note of Padre Salvi.
Word Of The Day