He got on his feet-Maria stood at his elbow; she said: The cloth, father, give me the cloth. He put the Host hurriedly into his mouth and drank the wine: one had to avoid profanation: the cloth was whipped away from the packing-case. She nipped the candles, so that the wick should not leave a smell ... the room was already cleared, only the owner hung by the entrance waiting to kiss his hand: through the door the world was faintly visible, and a cock in the village crowed.
Maria said: Come to the hut quickly.
I'd better go. He was without a plan. Not be found here.
They are all round the village.
Was this the end at last? he wondered. Somewhere fear waited to spring at him, he knew, but he wasn't afraid yet. He followed the woman, scurrying across the village to her hut, repeating an act of contrition mechanically as he went. He wondered when the fear would start: he had been afraid when the policeman opened his case-but that was years ago. He had been afraid hiding in the shed among the bananas, hearing the child argue with the police officer-that was only a few weeks away. Fear would undoubtedly begin again soon. There was no sign of the police-only the grey morning, and the chickens and turkeys stirring, flopping down from the trees in which they had roosted during the night. Again the cock crew. If they were so careful, they must know beyond the shadow of doubt that he was here. It was the end.
Maria plucked at him. Get in. Quick. Onto the bed. Presumably she had an idea-women were appallingly practicaclass="underline" they built new plans at once out of the ruins of the old. But what was the good? She said: Let me smell your breath. Oh, God, anyone can tell ... wine ... what would we be doing with [68] wine? She was gone again, inside, making a lot of bother in the peace and quiet of the dawn. Suddenly, out of the forest, a hundred yards away, an officer rode. In the absolute stillness you could hear the creaking of his revolver-holster as he turned and waved.
All round the little clearing the police appeared-they must have marched very quickly, for only the officer had a horse. Rifles at the trail, they approached the small group of huts-an exaggerated and rather absurd show of force. One man had a puttee trailing behind him-it had probably caught on something in the forest. He tripped on it and fell with a great clatter of cartridge-belt on gunstock: the lieutenant on the horse looked round and then turned his bitter and angry face upon the silent huts.
The woman was pulling at him from inside the hut. She said: Bite this. Quick. There's no time ... He turned his back on the advancing police and came into the dusk of the room. She had a small raw onion in her hand. Bite it, she said. He bit it and began to weep. Is that better? she said. He could hear the pad, pad of the cautious horse hoofs advancing between the huts.
It's horrible, he said with a giggle.
Give it to me. She made it disappear somewhere into her clothes: it was a trick all women seemed to know. He said: Where's my case?
Never mind your case. Get onto the bed.
But before he could move, a horse blocked the doorway: they could see a leg in riding-boots piped with scarlet: brass fittings gleamed: a hand in a glove rested on the high pommel. Maria put a hand upon his arm-it was as near as she had ever come to a movement of affection: affection was taboo between them. A voice cried: Come on out, all of you. The horse stamped and a little pillar of dust went up. Come on out, I said. -somewhere a shot was fired. The priest left the hut.
The dawn had really broken: light feathers of colour were blown up the sky: a man still held his gun pointed upwards: a little balloon of grey smoke hung at the muzzle. Was this how the agony was to start?
Out of all the huts the villagers were reluctantly emerging-the children first: they were curious and not frightened. The [69] men and women had the air already of people condemned by authority-authority was never wrong. None of them looked at the priest. They stared at the ground and waited: only the children watched the horse as if it was the most important thing there.
The lieutenant said: Search the huts. Time passed very slowly: even the smoke of the shot seemed to remain in the air for an unnatural period. Some pigs came grunting out of a hut, and a turkey-cock paced with evil dignity into the centre of the circle, puffing out its dusty feathers and tossing the long pink membrane from its beak. A soldier came up to the lieutenant and saluted sketchily. He said: They're all here.
You've found nothing suspicious?
No.
Then look again.
Once more time stopped like a broken dock. The lieutenant drew out a cigarette-case, hesitated and put it back again. Again the policeman approached and reported: Nothing.
The lieutenant barked out: Attention. All of you. Listen to me. The outer ring of police closed in, pushing the villagers together into a small group in front of the lieutenant: only the children were left free. The priest saw his own child standing close to the lieutenant's horse: she could just reach above his boot: she put up her hand and touched the leather. The lieutenant said: I am looking for two men-one is a gringo, a Yankee, a murderer. I can see very well he is not here. There is a reward of five hundred pesos for his capture. Keep your eyes open. He paused and ran his eye over them: the priest felt his gaze come to rest; he looked down like the others at the ground.
The other, the lieutenant said, is a priest. He raised his voice: you know what this means-traitor to the republic. Anyone who shelters him is a traitor too. Their immobility seemed to anger him. He said: You're fools if you still believe what the priests tell you. All they want is your money. What has God ever done for you? Have you got enough to eat? Have your children got enough to eat? Instead of food they talk to you about heaven. Oh, everything will be fine after you are dead, they say. I tell you-everything will be fine when they are dead, and you must help. The child had her hand on his boot. He looked down at her with dark affection. He said with [70] conviction: This child is worth more than the Pope in Rome. The police leant on their guns: one of them yawned-the turkey-cock went hissing back towards the huts. The lieutenant said: If you've seen this priest, speak up. There's a reward of seven hundred pesos. …
Nobody spoke.
The lieutenant yanked his horse's head round towards them; he said: We know he's in this district. Perhaps you don't know what happened to a man in Conception. One of the women began to weep. He said: Come up-one after the other-and let me have your names. No, not the women, the men.
They filed sullenly up and he questioned them: What's your name? What do you do? Married? Which is your wife? Have you heard of this priest? Only one man now stood between the priest and the horse's head. He recited an act of contrition silently with only half a mind- ... my sins, because they have crucified my loving Saviour ... but above all because they have offended ... He was alone in front of the lieutenant I hereby resolve never more to offend Thee ... It was a formal act, because a man had to be prepared: it was like making your will-and might be as valueless.
Your name?
The name of the man in Conception came back to him. He said: Montez.
Have you ever seen the priest?
No.
What do you do?
I have a little land.
Are you married?
Yes.
Which is your wife?
Maria suddenly broke out: It's me. Why do you want to ask so many questions. Do you think he looks like a priest? The lieutenant was examining something on the pommel of his saddle: it seemed to be an old photograph. Let me see your hands, he said.
The priest held them up: they were as hard as a labourer's. Suddenly the lieutenant leant down from the saddle and sniffed at his breath There was complete silence among the villagers-a dangerous silence, because it seemed to convey to the [71] lieutenant a fear. ... He stared back at the hollow stubbled face, looked back at the photograph. All right, he said, next, and then as the priest stepped aside: Wait. He put his hand down to Brigida's head and gently tugged at her black stiff hair. He said: Look up. You know everyone in this village, don't you?