Winiktón had transformed the engineer’s words into the expression of his own dream. He said that the hour of justice had arrived; that the president of the Republic had promised to come, strip the patróns of their privileges and give the Indians satisfaction for all the offenses they had endured, all the humiliations, all the outrages.

The old men heard him in stupefaction and the young men with enthusiasm. If there had been any alcohol, how easy it would have been to sweep them off their feet, put a rifle or a torch in every hand.

Xaw Ramírez Paciencia had sat at the very back and was making an almost inhuman effort to pay attention, to listen. He looked around him to register the reactions of the listeners. Why were they taking leave of their senses like this? Had not Xaw himself warned them what the priest, Padre Manuel Mandujano, had preached? That they should pay no attention to this deceitful advice, that these foreigners were pukujes, devils come to bring perdition and damnation upon them.

The assembly concluded and each one took a ceremonious leave of Fernando, and made a brief bow, as was appropriate, towards César. All of them promised to look through their trunks and among their belongings to see if they found a document like the ones the Caxlán was requesting; if they were lucky and found something they would bring it to hand over to the engineer. Meanwhile, he and his assistant could spend the night here, since it was the place the Chamula authorities had designated for the town’s guests.

“Here? In the Cabildo?” Fernando asked incredulously.

Yes. The one of greater respect—Ulloa—could sleep on the table which was large and solid and would bear his weight well; the other could make himself comfortable on the pine needles.

That was what they did, and since there was no light and the stub of a candle they were provided with burned away very quickly they went to bed early. Their cigarettes glimmered in the darkness.

“What do you think of the reception they gave us?” the engineer asked.

“We can’t expect anything better; we have to accept some discomforts.”

“I’m not talking about that. I got the impression they didn’t understand what we told them. Otherwise I can’t explain why they reacted that way.”

“Some of them seemed very glad.”

“But the others looked at us with such mistrust. . . .”

“Indians are very ungrateful.”

“Don’t say ‘Indians’ as if you were talking about people from another planet; try to understand their attitude; think about how you would behave if you were in a similar situation.”

Santiago smiled with a hint of mockery.