528
PARTISAN REVIEW
movements
Of
their hands, they exchanged scornful derisory smiles.
The fat man in the cherry colored shirt appeared to be the leader. He
walked deliberately against a man who was still kneeling,
his
ragged
cap in hand, almost toppling him over. The man got to his feet,
put on his cap slouchwise, and squared up to the other, who stopped
short, looking down his nose with exaggerated disdain.
"Wipe that look off your face in the presence of the Host," said
the man who had been jostled, with extraordinary ferocity.
"I am not in any such presence," said the fat man, "I see a
eunuch with a bread pill."
They struck at each other's mouths almost at the same instant,
the smaller man leaped and tripped the fat man and they fought with
deadly
earnestnt>~'i.S
for a few seconds. Half a dozen men seized and
separated them, holding them intently, while the women scattered,
crying out and stumbling over each other.
Father Carillo picked up his altar and made for the stairs with–
out even a glance towards the unseemly disturbance. When the men
who had fought were freed and standing, there was blood on their
faces and their torn clothes. Their eyes, quite murderous and cal–
culating, met for an instant, then they walked away from each other
in silence, each mopping his face with a dirty rag, each surrounded
by his own friends, or guards, as they had become.
At seven, in the small library off the main salon, Father Garza
said Mass attended by the Spanish company, Doctor Sacher, Frau
Otto Schmitt and Senora Esper6n, who was pale and blotchy and
who leaned upon the shoulder of her Indian nurse. Tliey knelt upon
the carpeted floor, missing their padded prayer stools, the hot soft
wind bringing out drops of sweat on their foreheads. The Spaniards
knelt closely together, their bitter faces closed smugly, their dingy
slender hands twiddling with their rosaries. Frau Schmitt, observing
that the bride and groom knelt at a cliscreet distance from each other
and did not even exchange a glance, approved this delicacy of
behavior. She then covered her face with both hands and gave herself
up to soft, remembered emotions, a melting, ageless vision of divine
bliss to come. Lamb of God who takest away the sins of the world,
only in thy grace shall my soul be healed. Holy Mary, mother of God,
pray for us sinners now and in the hour of our death.
Near her, Amparo stirred, rustling her petticoats and rattling
her beads, hissing her prayers under her breath. Frau Schmitt, dis–
turbed by the sounds and the stale perfume from Amparo's oiled
black hair, moved away on her knees a few paces. But her happy
mood was gone. She sat back on her heels, opened her eyes and
