DramA

"What else could it be but to try to kill Pedro so he doesn't lock him in a gate from which he will emerge to be shot?"

"And what has that man done that they want to hunt him down like a wild beast?" Cecilia asked. "What is his crime?"

"Is it known? If he's a thief..."

"It's already been said that he isn't," the young woman interrupted, "that's not his fault; they say it was a political matter."

"Then it could be that he didn't agree with the government and wanted to rebel against it. This has happened frequently in our country."

"And who was right?"

"Sometimes one side, sometimes the other."

"So it's possible that this man wasn't a villain?"

"If he had won, he would have been a hero; since he lost, he's a criminal. Your grandfather, that is, my father, fought against him during the time of King Joseph, and to save his life, he had to emigrate." From India, he later brought back the great riches your father possesses and those I had, which my husband (may he rest in peace) squandered in a short time. Never marry, Cecilia; men are usually not good, and the one who seems the best as a bridegroom makes the worst husband.

"I won't marry, Aunt, I've told my father a thousand times."

"And what does he think of your decision?"

"He told me he has to talk to you about it.

I'll convince him, if he hasn't already, that what's best for you is to come to the convent with me in a few years."

The church clock struck four, and Romualda, hearing it, said to Cecilia:

"In half an hour the novena to Saint Peter begins; go and dress and bring me the cloak and rosary when you get back here."

The young woman gathered her sewing and walked slowly into the house to obey her aunt's orders.

—81→
— II —

A quarter of an hour later, Pedro arrived. Romualda greeted him warmly, and the mayor took her daughter's chair.

"What's new?" the widow asked.

"Nothing, always the same," Serrano replied sulkily. "I don't know where this man is, and I'm determined to find him. I must hide someone in the village so that he can't be caught, but woe to anyone! I will be as inflexible with the fugitive as with the one who hides him in their home. Whoever does this will remember me. I have told all the people of this town, who love me as much as they fear me. I have promised a good reward to whoever hands me over to me. They write to me from Madrid, telling me not to let her escape. All of Spain is waiting to hear what happens in this poor corner, and it would be dishonorable if I dashed the hopes of so many important people who now trust in my zeal and loyalty.

"As long as it doesn't cost you dearly," Romualda murmured.

"There's no danger, nothing will happen to me. God is watching over me because you and Cecilia need me so much. And speaking of my daughter, why doesn't she come out to meet me?"

"She's getting dressed to go with me to the parish."

"Sister, I'm not opposed to the girl praying and observing all the religious practices, but it seems to me you're instilling in her certain ideas that don't please me. Don't raise her for the convent; it's my only consolation. I want to see her happy and settled in this place."

"Who are you going to marry her off to?"

"I've already made my plan." A nephew of my wife, a good and diligent young man, has completed his career at court, and I have invited him to come with me for a while. If he likes it, this will be her husband. Do you think I've spent my life economizing and increasing the capital my parents left me, so that some nuns might inherit it? Certainly not. When I walk around the village and see the beautiful houses they've built at my expense and which I rent out to the most important people in the town, I don't say, "It's all mine," but rather, "All this belongs to my daughter." Cecilia will be mistress and lady of the village, a queen here, where she is tenderly loved because most of the inhabitants saw her born. We will all live together: you, her second mother, the young couple, my grandchildren, if heaven grants them children, and I. We will make the whole world envious with our peaceful happiness and well-being. We will not leave this town—why? What does Cecilia care about what lies beyond those hills where aromatic herbs and simple flowers grow? This will be our paradise. I won't be mayor, so I can lead a less eventful life. I'll dedicate myself entirely to the work of the fields, and my son-in-law will help me. The boy will perhaps arrive this afternoon; it's useless to ask you to welcome him as if he were your nephew. As for Cecilia, accustomed to seeing the young men here so clumsy, so ill-mannered, she will gladly and joyfully receive a courtly cousin who will say a few of those gallant phrases that drive little girls wild.

"Do you already know of his imminent arrival?"

"No, I reserve the pleasure of the surprise for you."

"I will be glad that it is. Pedro, there is something about Cecilia that surprises me and would frighten me if I didn't know that her soul flies only toward heaven and that everything earthly seems sad and petty to her." Your daughter, educated exclusively by us, seeing satisfaction