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Updated: May 13, 2025
Don Antolin and the other priests thought the young man had moved to Madrid through ambition, to help swell the number of place-hunting clerics. Gabriel was the only one who knew Don Martin's real intentions.
Don Antolin listened to him in astonishment, fixing on him his cold glance. The others listened, feeling confusedly the marvel that such ideas should be enunciated in the cloister of a cathedral. Don Martin, the chaplain of the nuns, who stood behind his miserly protector, showed in his eyes the eager sympathy with which he heard Luna's words.
On the morning of Corpus the first person Gabriel saw on leaving the cloister was Don Antolin, who was looking over his tickets, placing them in line in front of him on the stone balustrade. "This is a great day," said Luna, wishing to smooth down Silver Stick. "You are preparing for a great crowd; no doubt many strangers will come."
In vain the gardener's widow searched; it was not easy to find generous breasts who would give their milk for very little pay. In the meanwhile the child was dying. All the women came in and out of the shoemaker's house, and even Don Antolin would stand at the door in the mornings. "How is the little one? Just the same? It is all in God's hands."
On leaving the cloister in the mornings soon after daybreak, the first person Gabriel would see was Don Antolin, the "Silver Stick." This priest exercised an authority like that of Governor of the Cathedral, for all the lay servants were under his orders, and all the repairs of little importance were done under his supervision.
We shall have to put cheap white panes in the windows to prevent the rain and wind coming in. The Cathedral will look like an inn may God forgive me the comparison and the priests of the Primacy will praise God dressed like the chaplain of a hermitage." And Don Antolin laughed sarcastically, as though this future that he was anticipating was an absurd contradiction of the eternal laws.
And from the iron gratings of the upper Claverias, giving on the roofs, there was generally a voice singing the ancient couplet, no doubt inspired by the Cathedral garden "Las amas de los curas y los laureles Como nunca dan fruto siempre estan verdes." It was this that ended the patience of Don Antolin; this insulting conjecture about himself and his niece that disturbed his miserly chastity.
Gabriel did not laugh, but Silver Stick and the others applauded his words. Any criticism against the present times delighted the priest. "This country is drained, Don Antolin, nothing remains standing. The number of towns which have vanished since our decadence commenced is incalculable.
A real forest of woodwork formed the basis of the monument; the riches of the cardinal had created a prodigality of solidity and sumptuousness, and several days were required to fit together the Holy Catafalque, and not a few workmen. Gabriel interviewed Don Antolin asking for a place on the works.
He who was wanting in the good discipline of the house turn him out into the street at once! More energy, and be careful never to trouble him again with such insignificant tales, otherwise the person who would be turned into the street would be Silver Stick himself. Don Antolin felt a little braver after this interview, although he swore mentally never again to visit that terrible prelate.
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