Father O’Malley shook his head sadly.  “You’ve no idea.  What do you think of a people who forbid the mention of God’s name in their schools?  That is what the revolutionists are doing.  Candeleria claims that the churches are the property of the State.  He confiscates them, and he charges admission.  He has banished all except a few of us priests, and has shamefully persecuted our Sisters of Mercy.  Oh, the outrages!  Mexico is, today, the blackest spot on the map of Christendom.”  His voice broke.  “That is the freedom, the liberty, the democracy, for which they are fighting.  That is the new Mexico.  And the Federals are not a bit better.  This Longorio, for instance, this—­wolf—­he brings me here, as his prisoner, to solemnize an unholy marriage!  He treats me like a dog.  Last night I slept in a filthy hovel—­”

“Oh!  I’m sorry,” Alaire exclaimed.  “But I’m half crazed with my own troubles.  You must come into the house; the best I have is yours.  You shall be as much my guest as I can make you, and—­ perhaps you will help me to escape.”  “Escape?” The little man smiled mournfully.  “You are watched and guarded, and so am I. Even if you got away from here, what then?  You can’t imagine the condition of the country.”

“I won’t marry him!” Alaire cried, with a shudder.  “I won’t!”

“He can’t very well force you to do so.  But remember, these are war times; the man is a fiend, and he puts no restraint upon his desires.  If he is madly bent on having you, how can you prevent it?  In normal times he would not dare injure one so prominent as you, but now—­” Father O’Malley lifted his hands.  “I only wonder that he suggests a lawful marriage.  Suppose you refuse?  Will he not sacrifice you to his passions?  He has done worse things.”  After a moment’s consideration he said:  “Of course it is possible that I misjudge him.  Anyhow, if you desire me to do so I will refuse to perform the ceremony.  But—­I’m afraid it will just mean ruin for both of us.”

“Surely he wouldn’t harm you?”

The Father shrugged.  “What am I?  An obscure priest.  Many of my brothers are buried in Mexico.  However, I shall do as you wish.”

As the day wore on Alaire realized even more clearly the fact that she was Longorio’s prisoner.  His men, in spite of their recent debauch, kept a very good watch over her, and it was plain that they would obey his orders, no matter how extreme.  It occurred to her finally that he was staying away purposely, in order to give her a fuller appreciation of her position—­so that she might beat her wings against the cage until exhausted.

Afternoon came, then evening, and still Longorio did not return, Father O’Malley could give scant comfort; Dolores was a positive trial.