by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.
A CHALLENGE IN A CHURCH.
While carrying on my eye-courtship with the kneeling devotee, I stoodsomewhat in shadow. A column, with the statue of some canonisedchurchman, afforded me a niche where I was concealed from the otherworshippers.
But there was a darker shadow behind me--occupied by a darker substance.
Tia Josefa was not the only spy present in the Cathedral.
I was made aware of it, by hearing a voice--of course spoken in awhisper, but so close to my ear, that I had no difficulty indistinguishing every word.
The voice said:--
"_Por Dios, caballero_! You appear greatly interested in the _oracion!You_ cannot be a _heretico_, like the rest of your countrymen?"
The sting of a wasp could not have caused me a more unpleasantsensation. The double meaning of the speech was not to be mistaken.The speaker had observed the eye signals passing between Mercedes andmyself!
I glanced into the gloom behind me.
It was some seconds before I could see any one. My eyes dazzled withthe splendour of the church adornments, refused to do their office.
Before I could trace out either his shape, or countenance, thewhispering stranger again addressed me:--
"I hope, senor, you will not be offended by my free speech? Itgratifies us _Catolicos_ to perceive that our Holy Church is makingconverts among the Americanos. I've been told there is a good deal ofthis sort of thing. Our _padres_ will be delighted to know that _their_conquest by the Word is likely to compensate for _our_ defeat by thesword."
Despite the impertinence, there was something so ingenious in the_argument_ thus introduced, that I was prevented from making immediatereply. Stark surprise had also to do with my silence.
I waited upon my eyes, in order that I might first see what sort ofpersonage was speaking to me.
Gradually my sight overcame the obscurity, and disclosed what the cornercontained: a man several degrees darker than the shadow itself, up tohis ears in a _serape_, with a black sombrero above them, and betweenhat and "blanket" a countenance that could only belong to a scoundrel!
I could see a bearded chin and lip, and a face lit up by a pair of eyessparkling with sinister light. I could see, moreover, that despite the_badinage_ of the speeches addressed to me there was _real anger_ inthem!
The sarcasm was all pretence. He, who had given utterance to it, wastoo much in earnest to deal long in irony; and I did not for a momentdoubt that I was standing in the presence of one who, like myself, was acandidate for the smiles of Mercedes Villa-Senor.
The thought was not one to make me more tolerant of the slight that hadbeen put upon me. On the contrary, it but increased my indignation--already at a white heat.
"Senor!" I said, in a voice with great difficulty toned down to awhisper, "you may thank your stars you are inside a church. If you'dspoken those words upon the street, they'd have been the last of yourlife."
"The street's not far off. Come out; and I shall there repeat them."
"Agreed!"
My challenger was nearest to the door, and started first. I followedthree steps after.
In the vestibule I paused--only for a second--to see whether my exit wasbeing noted by the kneeling Mercedes.
It was. She was gazing after me--no longer by stealth; but in surprise;I fancied in chagrin!
Had she divined the cause of my abrupt departure?
That was scarcely probable.
In the position lately occupied by my unknown challenger, she could nothave seen him. The statue interposed; and the column covered him, as hestepped towards the door.
I returned her glance by one intended to reassure her. With my eyes Isaid:--
"A moment, sweet saint, and you shall see me again!"
