"Not if the reports I have received are true."
"What reports?"
"The Church always struggles to keep above politics."
"Always?"
"You know very well what I thought of your unfortunate involvement with the organization In Vinculis."
"It was an impromptu act of charity, Excellency. I admit that I didn't really think. . . Perhaps with charity one shouldn't think. Charity like love should be blind."
"You have been promoted for reasons quite beyond my comprehension to the rank of monsignor. A monsignor should always think. He must guard the dignity of the Church."
"I did not ask to be a monsignor. I do not like being a monsignor. The dignity of the parish priest of El Toboso is difficult enough to support."
"I do not pay attention to every rumour, monsignor. The mere fact that a man is a member of Opus Dei does not necessarily make him a reliable witness. I will take your word if you give it to me that you didn't go into a certain shop in Madrid and ask to buy a cardinal's hat."
"That was not me. My friend made a harmless little joke. . ."
"Harmless? That friend of yours, I believe, is a former Mayor of El Toboso. A Communist. You choose very unsuitable friends and travelling companions, monsignor."
"I don't need to remind Your Excellency that Our Lord. . ."
"Oh yes, yes. I know what you are going to say. The text about publicans and sinners has always been very carelessly used to justify a lot of imprudence. St Matthew, chosen by Our Lord, was a tax gatherer -- a publican, a despised class. True enough, but there's a whole world of difference between a tax gatherer and a Communist."
"I suppose in some Eastern countries it's possible to be both."
"I would remind you, monsignor, that Our Lord was the Son of God. To Him all things were permissible, but for a poor priest like you and me isn't it more prudent to walk in the footsteps of St Paul? You know what he wrote to Titus -- 'There are many rebellious spirits abroad, who talk of their own fantasies and lead men's minds astray: they must be silenced.' "
The bishop paused to hear Father Quixote's response but none came. Perhaps he took this for a good sign, for when he spoke next, he dropped the "monsignor" and used the friendly and companionable "father". "Your friend, father," he said, "had apparently been drinking very heavily when you were both found. He didn't even wake when they spoke to him. Father Herrera noticed too that there was a great deal of wine in your car. I realize that in your nervous condition wine must have proved a serious temptation. Personally, I always leave wine to the Mass. I prefer water. I like to pretend when I take a glass that I am drinking the pure water of Jordan."
"Perhaps not so pure," Father Quixote said.
"What do you mean, father?"
"Well, Excellency, I can't help thinking of how Naaman, the Syrian, bathed seven times in the Jordan and left all his leprosy behind him in the water."
"An old Jewish legend from a very long time ago."
"Yes, I know that, Excellency, but still -- after all, it may be a true history -- and leprosy is a mysterious disease. How many good Jewish lepers may have followed the example of Naaman? Of course I agree with you that St Paul is a reliable guide and you will certainly remember that he also wrote to Titus -- no, I am wrong, it was to Timothy: "Do not confine thyself to water any longer: take a little wine to relieve thy stomach.""
A period of silence descended on the bedroom. Father Quixote thought that perhaps the bishop was seeking another quotation from St Paul, but he was wrong. The pause represented a change of subject rather than of mood. "What I don't understand, monsignor, is that the Guardia found that you had exchanged clothes with this -- this ex-Mayor, the Communist."
There was not an exchange of clothes, Excellency, only of a collar."
The bishop closed his eyes. Impatience? Or he might have been praying for understanding.
"Why even a collar?"
"He thought I must be suffering from the heat in that kind of collar, so I gave it to him to try. I didn't want him to think I was claiming any special merit. . . A military uniform or even a Guardia's must be more difficult to endure in the heat than a collar. We are the lucky ones, Excellency."
"A story came to the ears of the parish priest in Valladolid that a bishop -- or a monsignor -- had been seen coming out of a scandalous film there -- you know the kind of films which are shown now since the Generalissimo died. . ."
"Perhaps the poor monsignor did not know the kind of film he was attending. Sometimes titles are misleading."
"What was so shocking in the story is that -- the bishop or the monsignor, you know how people can be confused by the pechera which you and I both wear -- was seen coming out of this disreputable cinema laughing."
"Not laughing, Excellency. Perhaps smiling."
"I don't understand your presence at such a film."
"I was deceived by the innocence of the title."
"Which was?"
"A Maiden's Prayer."
The bishop gave a deep sigh. "I sometimes wish," he said, "that the title of maiden were confined to Our Lady -- and perhaps to members of religious orders. I realize you have been leading a very retired life in El Toboso, and you do not realize that the word 'maiden' used in our great cities in its purely temporary sense is often an incitement to lust."
"I admit, Excellency, that it had not occurred to me."
"Of course these are very minor matters in the eyes of the Guardia Civil, however scandalous they may appear in the eyes of the Church. But I and my colleague at Avila have had very great difficulty in persuading them to shut their eyes for what was a grave criminal offence. We had to approach a high authority in the Ministry of the Interior - luckily a member of Opus Dei. . ."
"And a cousin, I believe, of Dr Galvan?"
"That is hardly relevant. He saw at once that it would do the Church untold harm if a monsignor appeared in the dock charged with helping a murderer to escape. . ."
"Not a murderer, Excellency. He missed."
"A bank robber."
"No, no. It was a self-service store."
"I wish you wouldn't interrupt me with petty details. The Guardia in León found the man in possession of your shoes clearly marked inside with your name."
"It's a stupid habit of Teresa's. Poor thing, she means well, but she never trusts the cobbler to give the right pair back when he resoles them."
"I don't know whether it's deliberate, monsignor, but you always seem to bring into our serious discussion quite trivial and irrelevant details."
"I am sorry -- it wasn't my intention -- I thought it might seem odd to you, my shoes being marked that way."
"What seems odd to me is your helping this criminal to escape the law."
"He did have a gun -- but of course he would not have used it. Shooting us would hardly have helped him."