into the
air by bands of musicians that followed the floats. Meanwhile,
the _hermano mayor_ distributed candles with such zeal that many of
the participants returned to their homes with light enough for four
nights of card-playing. Devoutly the curious spectators knelt at the
passage of the float of the Mother of God, reciting Credos and Salves
fervently. In front of a house in whose gaily decorated windows were
to be seen the alcalde, Capitan Tiago, Maria Clara, and Ibarra, with
various Spaniards and young ladies, the float was detained. Padre
Salvi happened to raise his eyes, but made not the slightest movement
that might have been taken for a salute or a recognition of them. He
merely stood erect, so that his cope fell over his shoulders more
gracefully and elegantly.

In the street under the window was a young woman of pleasing
countenance, dressed in deep mourning, carrying in her arms a young
baby. She must have been a nursemaid only, for the child was white
and ruddy while she was brown and had hair blacker than jet. Upon
seeing the curate the tender infant held out its arms, laughed with
the laugh that neither causes nor is caused by sorrow, and cried out
stammeringly in the midst of a brief silence, "Pa-pa! Papa! Papa!" The
young woman shuddered, slapped her hand hurriedly over the baby's
mouth and ran away in dismay, with the baby crying.

Malicious ones winked at each other, and the Spaniards who had
witnessed the short scene smiled, while the natural pallor of Padre
Salvi changed to the hue of poppies. Yet the people were wrong,
for the curate was not acquainted with the woman at all, she being
a stranger in the town.

CHAPTER XXX

In the Church

From end to end the huge barn that men dedicate as a home to the
Creator of all existing things was filled with people. Pushing,
crowding, and crushing one another, the few who were leaving and
the many who were entering filled the air with exclamations of
distress. Even from afar an arm would be stretched out to dip the
fingers in the holy water, but at the critical moment the surging crowd
would force the hand away. Then would be heard a complaint, a trampled
woman would upbraid some one, but the pushing would continue. Some old
people might succeed in dipping their fingers in the water, now the
color of slime, where the population of a whole town, with transients
besides, had washed. With it they would anoint themselves devoutly,
although with di