orrupt, nor more ungrateful."

"Nor more ill-bred."

The young man looked about uneasily. "Gentlemen," said he, still
speaking low, "it seems to me we are the guests of Indians, and that
these young ladies----"

"Bah, you are too timid: Santiago does not consider himself an Indian,
besides, he isn't here. These are the scruples of a newcomer. Wait a
little. When you have slept in our strapped beds, eaten the tinola,
and seen our balls and fetes, you'll change your tone. And more, you
will find that the country is going to ruin; she is ruined already!"

"What does your reverence mean?" cried the lieutenant and Dominican
together.

"The evil all comes from the fact that the Government sustains
wrong-doers in the face of the ministers of God," continued the
Franciscan, raising his voice and facing about. "When a curate rids
his cemetery of a malefactor, no one, not even the king, has the right
to interfere; and a wretched general, a petty general from nowhere----"

"Father, His Excellency is viceroy," said the officer, rising. "His
Excellency represents His Majesty the king."

"What Excellency?" retorted the Franciscan, rising in turn. "Who is
this king? For us there is but one King, the legitimate----"

"If you do not retract that, Father, I shall make it known to the
governor-general," cried the lieutenant.

"Go to him now, go!" retorted Father Damaso; "I'll loan you my
carriage."

The Dominican interposed.

"Senores," said he in a tone of authority, "you should not confuse
things, nor seek offence where there is none intended. We must
distinguish in the words of Father Damaso those of the man from those
of the priest. The latter per se can never offend, because they are
infallible. In the words of the man, a sub-distinction must be made,
into those said ab irato, those said ex ore, but not in corde, and
those said in corde. It is these last only that can offend, and even
then everything depends. If they were not premeditated in mente,
but simply arose per accidens in the heat of the conversation----"

At this interesting point there joined the group an old Spaniard,
gentle and inoffensive of aspect. He was lame, and leaned on
the arm of an old native woman, smothered in curls and frizzes,
preposterously powdered, and in European dress. With relief every
one turned to salute them. It was Doctor de Espadana and his wife,
the Doctora Dona Victorina. The atmosphere cleared.

"Which, Senor Laruja, is the mas