ey say that a lot of them escaped. The civil-guards burned
Don Crisostomo's house down, and if they hadn't arrested him first
they would have burned him also."

"They burned the house down?"

"All the servants are under arrest. Look, you can still see the smoke
from here!" answered the narrator, approaching the window. "Those
who come from there tell of many sad things."

All looked toward the place indicated. A thin column of smoke was
still slowly rising toward the sky. All made comments, more or less
pitying, more or less accusing.

"Poor youth!" exclaimed an old man, Pute's husband.

"Yes," she answered, "but look how he didn't order a mass said for
the soul of his father, who undoubtedly needs it more than others."

"But, woman, haven't you any pity?"

"Pity for the excommunicated? It's a sin to take pity on the enemies
of God, the curates say. Don't you remember? In the cemetery he walked
about as if he was in a corral."

"But a corral and the cemetery are alike," replied the old man,
"only that into the former only one kind of animal enters."

"Shut up!" cried Sister Pute. "You'll still defend those whom God
has clearly punished. You'll see how they'll arrest you, too. You're
upholding a falling house."

Her husband became silent before this argument.

"Yes," continued the old lady, "after striking Padre Damaso there
wasn't anything left for him to do but to kill Padre Salvi."

"But you can't deny that he was good when he was a little boy."

"Yes, he was good," replied the old woman, "but he went to Spain. All
those that go to Spain become heretics, as the curates have said."

"Oho!" exclaimed her husband, seeing his chance for a retort, "and
the curate, and all the curates, and the Archbishop, and the Pope,
and the Virgin--aren't they from Spain? Are they also heretics? _Aba!_"

Happily for Sister Pute the arrival of a maidservant running, all
pale and terrified, cut short this discussion.

"A man hanged in the next garden!" she cried breathlessly.

"A man hanged?" exclaimed all in stupefaction. The women crossed
themselves. No one could move from his place.

"Yes, sir," went on the trembling servant; "I was going to pick
peas--I looked into our neighbor's garden to see if it was--I saw
a man swinging--I thought it was Teo, the servant who always gives
me--I went nearer to--pick the peas, and I saw that it wasn't Teo,
but a dead man. I ran and I ran and--"

"Let's go see him," said the old