Don Alfonso gave the young priest his ring to kiss. As he was paying his reverences, a great relief swept over the bishop’s mind. The step, which had appeared so difficult, was taken. Certainly the boy had put up some resistance, but less than his fiery temperament had made the bishop fear. Nor had he seemed very suspicious. He had yielded, accepting his superior’s explanations.

Manuel walked away from the Palacio Episcopal with a confused and disappointed heart. Among all his illusions of triumph there remained only the somber prospect of confinement to an insignificant town to carry out a nonsensical mission. Meanwhile his schoolmates and teachers would forget him and he himself would forget his aspirations and allow himself to be worn down by inhuman customs. Manuel breathed with difficulty. He was suffocating, like an insect squashed under a rock.

Benita was frightened when she saw him come in.

“You’re very pale. Has something upset you or caused you pain? I’ll go to the kitchen and fix you some aguardiente with water and nutmeg.”

“Make some for yourself, too,” her brother suggested roughly. His tone was enough to hold her back.

“Manuel, what is happening?”

“What is happening is that I took a vow of obedience and today I had to fulfill it. The bishop has appointed me to another parish.”

“You aren’t going to stay in San Diego?”

“No: complaints have been made against me.”

“But, who? Who?”

“The Freemasons are becoming alarmed because according to them I’m doing subversive work.”

Benita did not understand what her brother was being accused of. She asked humbly, “It’s all slander, isn’t it Manuel?”

“You convince them of that, if you can. And convince Don Alfonso that for his own convenience he should support me and not let himself be intimidated by those devils. But the bishop is a prudent man; he doesn’t want to have any problems in his diocese and he is ridding himself of me by sending me to San Juan Chamula.”

“What is that?”

“An Indian town.”

“To an Indian town? You?”

“And you, too, if the sacrifice doesn’t seem too great.”

“But these bishops are insane, may God forgive and protect me! To send you away, you of all people. You were the best student at the seminary; you have all the most prominent people in Ciudad Real enthralled by your sermons . . .”

Benita wiped away a nonexistent tear with the corner of her apron. Manuel couldn’t resist the temptation to exacerbate her ingenuous and defenseless pain.

“Nevertheless they’ll complain that they didn’t get their money’s worth out of me. So much wasted on educating me, just so I can end up serving them in a church that could very easily be overseen by a priest who was completely ignorant.”

Suddenly Benita ended the discussion. “Patience, hermano. What date is your departure set for?”

“As soon as possible.”

“We must begin making preparations.”