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Updated: May 2, 2025
Now, however, it was too late. She had no right to expect sympathy even from him. "Chiquita, for the last time, I ask you to speak!" pleaded Captain Forest, racked between doubt and belief in the woman he loved. Just then, little Marieta began to cry. "Madre, madre!" she gasped between her sobs. "I'm afraid of these people. Take me away take me home again!"
And then, putting two and two together, he also recalled the fact that he had noted something during the scene which nobody else seemed to have noticed, namely: that the face of the child, Marieta, was the living image of Don Felipe's. Like a flash all became clear to him, and he smiled and nodded as the truth dawned upon him, and he wondered greatly at Chiquita's discretion.
Again she glanced down at Marieta, and then raising her head and looking into Padre Antonio's eyes, said quietly: "Yes, she has that right." "It's not true; I don't believe it!" cried Captain Forest in a tone in which was expressed all the shame and disgust he experienced on seeing the woman he loved dragged into the mire before his eyes.
Although humble in the sight of God, experience had taught him that the only way to command the respect of men was to hold one's head high while among them. What must he think of her now, to be requited thus after all he had done for her? Chiquita asked herself as she, with Marieta and Juana, followed him homeward.
As Chiquita and Padre Antonio left the patio, accompanied by Marieta and old Juana, the women drew back from her as though from some unclean thing. Gladly would they have spared Padre Antonio's feelings, but their hatred and jealousy were too intense and the opportunity to cast a stone at her too tempting for flesh and blood to resist.
Madre mia!" she cried, and running across the court, flung herself into Chiquita's arms. Then it was that the latter grasped the full significance and gravity of the situation. What could have been more compromising and humiliating for her? "Marieta, niña mia!" she exclaimed, stooping and kissing the child, without realizing that her words and action only compromised her the more.
Padre mio, how good you are, and how have I requited you!" she said at length, looking up at him through her tears and slowly disengaging herself from his arms. "You know," she continued between convulsive sobs, and slowly drying her tears, "that little Marieta is the child of Don Felipe and Pepita Delaguerra." Padre Antonio started at the mention of the latter's name.
Yet why should he be astonished? Was it not like her? Chiquita also wondered in turn, and was much perplexed by his attitude, the quiet, benign expression of his face, when she entered the room after bidding Juana and Marieta good night. She had expected exactly the reverse. What did it mean, did he know anything? But she did not stop to question him.
"Be not afraid, my little one, they cannot harm you," she answered, drawing the child closer to her and laying one hand on its shoulder. Another embarrassing silence, broken only by the low sobs of Marieta, followed. "Chiquita," demanded Padre Antonio at length, "has this child the right to call you mother?"
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