“But is that monster going to cut all our heads off, then?  Ah, Senor Don Inocencio! these visits of the army remind me of what I have read in the lives of the martyrs about the visits of the Roman proconsuls to a Christian town.”

“The comparison is not wanting in exactness,” said the Penitentiary, looking at the soldier over his spectacles.

“It is not very agreeable, but if it is the truth, why should it not be said?” observed Pinzon benevolently.  “Now you all are at our mercy.”

“The authorities of the place,” objected Jacinto, “still exercise their functions as usual.”

“I think you are mistaken,” responded the soldier, whose countenance Dona Perfecta and the Penitentiary were studying with profound interest.  “The alcalde of Orbajosa was removed from office an hour ago.”

“By the governor of the province?”

“The governor of the province has been replaced by a delegate from the Government, who was to arrive this morning.  The municipal councils will all be removed from office to-day.  The minister has so ordered because he suspected, I don’t know on what grounds, that they were not supporting the central authority.”

“This is a pretty state of things!” murmured the canon, frowning and pushing out his lower lip.

Dona Perfecta looked thoughtful.

“Some of the judges of the primary court, among them the judge of Orbajosa, have been deprived of office.”

“The judge!  Periquito—­Periquito is no longer judge!” exclaimed Dona Perfecta, in a voice and with the manner of a person who has just been stung by a snake.

“The person who was judge in Orbajosa is judge no longer,” said Pinzon.  “To-morrow the new judge will arrive.”

“A stranger!”

“A stranger.”

“A rascal, perhaps.  The other was so honorable!” said Dona Perfecta, with alarm.  “I never asked any thing from him that he did not grant it to me at once.  Do you know who will be the new alcalde?”

“They say a corregidor is coming.”

“There, say at once that the Deluge is coming, and let us be done with it,” said the canon, rising.

“So that we are at the brigadier’s mercy!”

“For a few days only.  Don’t be angry with me.  In spite of my uniform I am an enemy of militarism; but we are ordered to strike—­and we strike.  There could not be a viler trade than ours.”

“That it is, that it is!” said Dona Perfecta, with difficulty concealing her fury.  “Now that you have confessed it——­So, then, neither alcalde nor judge——­”

“Nor governor of the province.”

“Let them take the bishop from us also and send us a choir boy in his stead.”

“That is all that is wanting—­if the people here will allow them to do it,” murmured Don Inocencio, lowering his eyes.  “They won’t stop at trifles.”

“And it is all because they are afraid of an insurrection in Orbajosa,” exclaimed Dona Perfecta, clasping her hands and waving them up and down.  “Frankly, Pinzon, I don’t know why it is that even the very stones don’t rise up in rebellion.  I wish you no harm; but it would be a just judgment on you if the water you drink turned into mud.  You say that my nephew is the intimate friend of the brigadier?”