fterward one of the rowers pretended to have discovered
signs of blood in the water near the shore, but his companions shook
their heads in a manner which might mean either yes or no.

CHAPTER XLI

FATHER DAMASO EXPLAINS.

In vain the costly wedding gifts were heaped upon the table. Neither
the diamonds in their blue velvet caskets, nor the embroidered pina,
nor the pieces of silk had any attractions for Maria Clara. The
maiden looked at the paper which gave the account of Ibarra's death,
drowned in the lake, but she neither saw nor read it.

Of a sudden, she felt two hands over her eyes. They held her fast
while a joyous voice, Father Damaso's, said to her:

"Who am I? Who am I?"

Maria Clara jumped from her seat and looked at him with terror in
her eyes.

"You little goose, were you frightened, eh? You were not expecting
me? Well, I have come from the provinces to attend your wedding."

And coming up to her again with a smile of satisfaction, he stretched
out his hand to her. Maria Clara approached timidly and, raising it
to her lips, kissed it.

"What is the matter with you, Maria?" asked the Franciscan, losing
his gay smile, and becoming very uneasy. "Your hand is cold, you are
pale.... Are you ill, my little girl?"

And Father Damaso drew her up to him with a fondness of which no one
would have thought him capable. He grasped both the maiden's hands
and gave her a questioning look.

"Haven't you any confidence in your godfather?" he asked in a
reproachful tone. "Come, sit down here and tell me your little
troubles, just as you used to do when you were a child, when you
wanted wax-candles to make wax figures. You surely know that I have
always loved you.... I have never scolded you...."

Father Damaso's voice ceased to be brusque; its modulations were even
caressing. Maria Clara began to weep.

"Are you weeping, my child? Why are you weeping? Have you quarrelled
with Linares?"

Maria Clara covered her eyes with her hands.

"No! It is not he now!" cried the maiden.

Father Damaso looked at her full of surprise.

"Do you not want to entrust your secrets to me? Have I not always
managed to satisfy your smallest caprices?"

The young woman raised her eyes full of tears toward him. She looked
at him for some time, and then began to weep bitterly.

"Do not cry so, my child, for your tears pain me! Tell me your
troubles. You will see how your godfather loves you."

Maria Clara approac