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Chapter 8

           “Thispicture,mychildren,muylindaemaravillosa,”FatherRomanwouldsaytosomeofhisflock,“whichyoubeholdherethroughthemunificenceofthewifeofourSenorAdministrador,hasbeenpaintedinEurope,acountryofsaintsandmiracles,andmuchgreaterthanourCostaguana.”Andhewouldtakeapinchofsnuffwithunction.ButwhenonceaninquisitivespiritdesiredtoknowinwhatdirectionthisEuropewassituated,whetherupordownthecoast,FatherRoman,toconcealhisperplexity,becameveryreservedandsevere.“Nodoubtitisextremelyfaraway.ButignorantsinnerslikeyouoftheSanTomemineshouldthinkearnestlyofeverlastingpunishmentinsteadofinquiringintothemagnitudeoftheearth,withitscountriesandpopulationsaltogetherbeyondyourunderstanding.”

           Witha“Good-night,Padre,”“Good-night,DonPepe,”theGobernadorwouldgooff,holdinguphissabreagainsthisside,hisbodybentforward,withalong,ploddingstrideinthedark.Thejocularitypropertoaninnocentcardgameforafewcigarsorabundleofyerbawasreplacedatoncebythesterndutymoodofanofficersettingouttovisittheoutpostsofanencampedarmy.Oneloudblastofthewhistlethathungfromhisneckprovokedinstantlyagreatshrillingofrespondingwhistles,mingledwiththebarkingofdogs,thatwouldcalmdownslowlyatlast,awayupattheheadofthegorge;andinthestillnesstwoserenos,onguardbythebridge,wouldappearwalkingnoiselesslytowardshim.

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