our seraphic father, St. Francis. You, sinners,
captives of those Moors of the soul who infest the seas of the eternal
life, in the doughty ships of the flesh and the world; you who row
in the galleys of Satan, behold with reverent compunction him who
redeems souls from the captivity of the demon--the intrepid Gideon,
the courageous David, the victorious Roland of Christianity! the
celestial guard, more valiant than all the civil guards of past and
future. (The alferez frowned.) Yes, Senor Alferez, more valiant and
more powerful than all! This conqueror, who, without other weapon
than a wooden cross, vanquished the eternal tulisanes of darkness,
and would have utterly destroyed them were spirits not immortal. This
marvel, this incredible phenomenon, is the blessed Diego of Alcala!"

The "rude Indians," as the correspondents say, fished out of this
paragraph only the words civil guard, tulisane, San Diego, and San
Francisco. They had noticed the grimace of the alferez and the militant
gesture of the preacher, and had from this deduced that the father
was angry with the guard for not pursuing the tulisanes, and that
San Diego and San Francisco had taken upon themselves to do it. They
were enchanted, not doubting that, the tulisanes once dispersed,
St. Francis would also destroy the municipal guard. Their attention,
therefore, redoubled.

The monk continued so long his eulogy of San Diego that his auditors,
not even excepting Captain Tiago, began to yawn a little. Then
he reproached them with living like the Protestants and heretics,
who respect not the ministers of God; like the Chinese, for which
condemnation be upon them!

"What is he telling us, the Pale Lamaso?" murmured the Chinese Carlos,
looking angrily at the preacher, who went on improvising a series of
apostrophes and imprecations.

"You will die in impenitence, race of heretics! Your punishment is
already being meted out to you in jails and prisons. The family and its
women should flee you; rulers should destroy you. If you have a member
that causeth you to offend, cut it off and cast it into the fire!"

Brother Damaso was nervous. He had forgotten his sermon and was
improvising. Ibarra became restless; he looked about in search of
some corner, but the church was full. Maria Clara no longer heard
the sermon. She was analyzing a picture of the souls of the "Blessed
in Purgatory."

In the improvisation the monk who played the part of prompter lost his
pla