“Perhaps my uncle has heard something; he is here now, I hear him coming upstairs.”

“Thank God!” said Dona Perfecta, rising to receive the Penitentiary.  “He will have good news for us.”

Don Inocencio entered hastily.  His altered countenance showed that his soul, consecrated to religion and to the study of the classics, was not as tranquil as usual.

“Bad news!” he said, laying his hat on a chair and loosening the cords of his cloak.

Dona Perfecta turned pale.

“They are arresting people,” added Don Inocencio, lowering his voice, as if there was a soldier hidden under every chair.  “They suspect, no doubt, that the people here would not put up with their high-handed measures, and they have gone from house to house, arresting all who have a reputation for bravery.”

Dona Perfecta threw herself into an easy chair and clutched its arms convulsively.

“It remains to be seen whether they have allowed themselves to be arrested,” observed Remedios.

“Many of them have—­a great many of them,” said Don Inocencio, with an approving look, addressing Dona Perfecta, “have had time to escape, and have gone with arms and horses to Villahorrenda.”

“And Ramos?”

“They told me in the cathedral that he is the one they are looking for most eagerly.  Oh, my God! to arrest innocent people in that way, who have done nothing yet.  Well, I don’t know how good Spaniards can have patience under such treatment.  Senora Dona Perfecta, when I was telling you about the arrests, I forgot to say that you ought to go home at once.”

“Yes, I will go at once.  Have those bandits searched my house?”

“It is possible.  Senora, we have fallen upon evil days,” said Don Inocencio, in solemn and feeling accents.  “May God have pity upon us!”

“There are half a dozen well-armed men in my house,” responded the lady, greatly agitated.  “What iniquity!  Would they be capable of wanting to carry them off too?”

“Assuredly Senor Pinzon will not have neglected to denounce them.  Senora, I repeat that we have fallen upon evil days.  But God will protect the innocent.”

“I am going now.  Don’t fail to stop in at the house.”

“Senora, as soon as the lesson is over—­though I imagine that with the excitement that there is in the town, all the boys will play truant to-day——­But in any case I will go to the house after class hours.  I don’t wish you to go out alone, senora.  Those vagabond soldiers are strutting about the streets with such insolent airs.  Jacinto, Jacinto!”

“It is not necessary.  I will go alone.”

“Let Jacinto go with you,” said the young man’s mother.  “He must be up by this time.”

They heard the hurried footsteps of the little doctor, who was coming down the stairs in the greatest haste.  He entered the room with flushed face and panting for breath.

“What is the matter?” asked his uncle.