As though he had read my thoughts, he stopped on hearing my footsteps, and faced me, while he said in a resolute and commanding tone:
“Good afternoon, sir. You’ll excuse me for asking you a question. Do you come from San Andrés de Louza, and are you going to the Aldao’s Tower?”
“Yes, sir, I am going there,” I answered, somewhat surprised.
“Well, if you have no objection, we’ll go along together. I know the way, because I have been there before. I take the liberty of making this proposition, as I imagine that whenever one finds himself traveling alone in the country, he is not offended--”
“Offense! Quite the contrary,” I replied, pleased with the friar’s martial air.
We went on side by side, because the path was widening and allowed us this privilege of sociability. I then noticed that he wore no shoes, but had on sandals which were fastened over the instep, thus leaving free his toes, which were fleshy and well-shaped like those of the statues of San Antonio of Padua. He at once began to question me.
“You must pardon me, for I am very frank, and like to have people know each other. Are you, perchance, a relative of Carmiña Aldao?”
“No, sir, but of her betrothed. I am his nephew.”
“Ah, I know now; the one who was studying in Madrid to become a civil engineer; Benigna’s son.”
“Just so. How is it you know so much about me?”
“I’ll tell you. The Aldao family honor me with many confidences, and that’s the way I come to know so much about those details. And how do you get on with your studies? I know also that you are very assiduous, and have a brilliant future before you. And I am very glad to make your acquaintance. I say so sincerely, for I am not in the habit of paying compliments. But you don’t know my name yet. I didn’t tell you, because a poor friar does not need to introduce himself, as his habit is a sufficient introduction. My name is Silvestre Moreno, your humble servant.”
“Yes, I know, I know. Salustio Meléndez Unceta.”
“I wish I did,” replied the friar, with a good-natured laugh; and then stopping suddenly, he said to me imploringly:
“Couldn’t you do me the favor to give me a cigarette?”
“I don’t smoke,” I answered, with a certain hauteur, which afterward seemed absurd to me.